ABSTRACT

THE MYTH OF THE HERO IN E. T. A. HOFFMANN:
THE CHRISTIAN ADVENTURE OF MEDARDUS AND THE
MUSICAL ADVENTURE OF KAPELLMEISTER JOHANNES KREISLER

BY

John Russell Hubbard

The paper shows that two of E. T. A. Hoffmann's
best-known figures, Medardus of Die Elixiere des Teufels
and Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler of Kater Murr, the
Kreisleriana and other Kreisler-stories, are personifi-
cations of one of man's oldest symbols of ontological
and eschatological awareness, the hero of the myth. To
this end, it lists the universal motifs of the life of
the hero, arranges the motifs in a composite Pattern of
the myth itself, and analyzes them as they appear in the
lives of Medardus and Kreisler in order to determine their
contribution to the total meaning of the two figures.

Jan de Vries' Heroic Song and Heroic Legend,~Lord Raglan's
The Hero. A Study in Tradition, Myth and Drama, and
Joseph Campbell's The Hero withia Thousand Faces repre-
sent the pioneering research as well as the most recent

work done with the myth of the hero. The Pattern of the

John Russell Hubbard

myth as presented in this paper is a composite gleaned
from their works and further substantiated by the heroic
biographies cited in the notes to the first chapter.

The first sections of the paper show the hero to
be a universal symbol, the mission and message of which
vary in degree of profundity, depending on the setting.
Interpretive approaches including, among others, psycho-
analysis, the sociology of religion and the history of
religion, reinforce the universal conception of the
Pattern by proving that the myth adapts itself to almost
any external setting, but remains essentially unchanged.
The reader sees that, at a less sophisticated level, the
story of the hero's life attempts to persuade the
initiate of the correctness of an action; at higher
levels, to convert him to a certain doctrine, and the
highest, to provide the symbolic means for spiritual
renewal. However, the paper is primarily concerned with
the highest level, the one that intends to reveal an
ultimate ontological and eschatological insight. Even
at this level, though, the discussion roots in the
basic outline of the composite Pattern, which is apparent
throughout the paper. The hero gains creative powers
by leaving the world (dying), by undergoing an experience
as a non-entity, and by returning as one reborn. These

three stages provide the foundation of folk mythologies

 

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John Russell Hubbard

as well as of more sophisticated ones, pointing to the
existence of an archetype which has nothing to do with
the possible historical existence of the hero.

The main discussion and analysis then show Hoffmann's
conception of Medardus and Johannes Kreisler to be another
expression of the universal myth in another setting and
idiom. The discussion builds on the underlying premise
that the myth has consistently shed outmoded expressions
to adapt itself to changing human conditions. The terms,
images and symbols which reveal Medardus and Johannes
as heroes of the myth are fundamentally the same terms,
images and symbols which appeared in the composite
Pattern of the herols life. They all provide the hero-
figure with insight into his own being, they all make
him aware of his total self and they all ultimately lead
him to a conception of life which goes beyond duality.
The reader finally sees how the images and symbols of
the myth are reflected in the Christian images and
symbols of Medardus' life in Die Elixiere des Teufels,
and in the musical images and symbols of the Kreisleriana
and Kater Murr. Both the Christian "adventure" of
Medardus' life and the musical "adventure" of Johannes
Kreisler's life then reveal themselves to be the same

transcendental "adventure" taken by the hero of the myth.

THE MYTH OF THE HERO IN E. T. A. HOFFMANN:
THE CHRISTIAN ADVENTURE OF MEDARDUS AND THE

MUSICAL ADVENTURE OF KAPELLMEISTER JOHANNES KREISLER

By

John Russell Hubbard

A THESIS

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of German and Russian

1971

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This is to express my special thanks to Professor
Stuart A. Gallacher of the Department of German and
Russian, Michigan State University. Professor Gallacher
provided the original inspiration for the topic of this
paper, and his suggestions and guidance were indispensable

in bringing it to a successful conclusion.

ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Section Page

INTRODUCTION 0 O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 1

CHAPTER ONE: THE PATTERN OF THE HERO'S LIFE
I. The Composite Hero . . . . . . . . . 5

II. The Motifs of the Pattern . . . . . . 10

CHAPTER TWO: THE MEANING OF THE MOTIFS
I. Understanding the Pattern . . . . . . 17
II. The Motifs of the Pattern: Interpre-
tation and Analysis . . . . . . . . . 20
CHAPTER THREE: THE MYTH OF THE HERO IN E. T. A.
- HOFFMANN
I. The Hero and the Christian Adventure
of Evil and Spiritual Renewal: Medardus

and Die Elixiere des Teufels . . . . 67

II. The Artist as Hero: Kapellmeister
Johannes Kreisler . . . . . . . . . 1&2

CONCLUSION O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 190
FOOTNOTES

Chapter I O O O O O O O O O C C O O O 194
Chapter II 0 O O O O I O C O O O O O O 205
Chapter III . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211

BIBLIOGRAPHY O 0 O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 222

iii

INTRODUCTION

Two of E. T. A. Hoffmann's best-known figures,
Medardus of Die Elixiere des Teufels and Kapellmeister
Johannes Kreisler of Kater Murr, the Kreisleriana and
other Kreisler-stories, personify one of man's oldest
symbols of eschatological and ontological awareness, the
hero of the myth. The aim of this paper is to list the
motifs of the pattern of the myth of the hero as they
appear in the lives of the two figures, to relate them to
a composite pattern of the myth itself, and then to ana-
lyze them in order to determine their contribution to the
total meaning of the heroic lives of Medardus and Jo-
hannes Kreisler. Jan de Vries's Heroic Song and Heroic
Legend, Lord Raglan's The Hero. A Study in Tradition,
Myth and Drama, and Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a
Thousand Faces represent the pioneering research as well
as the most recent work done in the area. The pattern of
the myth as presented in this paper is a composite gleaned
from their works and further substantiated by the heroic
biographies cited in the notes to the first chapter.

In order to understand the central discussion of
this paper, it is desirable that the reader understand

the symbol of the hero of the myth. He is to be aware

1

2
that the hero is a universal symbol the mission and mes-
sage of which will vary in degree of profundity, depending
on its setting. At a less sophisticated level, the story
of the hero's life attempts to persuade the reader or
listener of the correctness of an action; at higher levels,
to convert him to a certain doctrine, and the highest, to
provide the symbolic means for spiritual renewal. This
paper refers to all three aspects, but concerns itself
primarily with the highest level, the one that intends to
reveal an ultimate ontological and eschatological insight.
Even at this level, though, the basic outline of the
heroic biography is apparent. The hero gains creative
powers by leaving the world (dying), by undergoing an
experience as a non-entity and returning as one reborn.
These three fundamental stages provide the foundation of
folk mythologies as well as of more sophisticated ones,
pointing to the existence of an archetype which has
nothing to do with the possible historical existence of
the hero.

The archetypal images of the myth have sustained
themselves in man's innermost being down to modern times.
Mircea Eliade points out that the secularization of the
symbol of the eschatological king did not destroy man's
hope for the appearance of an exemplary hero to show him
the way to spiritual renewal, and that modern poets have

unconsciously given metaphorical and allegorical

3
expression to this ancient hope. Mythical thought sheds
outmoded expressions to adapt itself to changing human
conditions; it does not die. As Jan de Vries has pointed
out, the dissemination of the legends of Siegfried, of
Dietrich von Bern, of‘Gunther and Hagen to all parts of
the Germanic-speaking lands shows how tribes adopted the
heroic legends of other tribes. This adaptability of
mythical thought has been one of its most consistent
characteristics.

Such consistency and adaptability is the underlying
premise of this paper. The main discussion shows Hoff-
mann's conception of Medardus and Johannes to be another
expression of the universal myth in another setting and
idiom. The terms, images and symbols which reveal
Medardus and Johannes as heroes of the myth are funda-
mentally the same terms, images and symbols which appear
in the composite pattern of the hero's life. They all
provide the hero-figure with insight into his own being,
they all make him aware of his total Self and they all
ultimately lead him to a conception of life which goes
beyond duality. Whether Medardus and Johannes are com-
plete in terms of the Pattern of the myth, whether they
suggest exemplary, imitable lives, is an aspect of their
heroism to be determined in the analyses which follow.

In order to provide the necessary interpretive

framework, this paper is presented in three parts.

h
Chapter I explains the universality of the myth and lists
the motifs from the myth of the hero. This is a composite
pattern put together from various sources and based on
heroic biographies of myths from all over the world.
Chapter II analyzes each motif of the pattern according
to interpretive approaches ranging from psychoanalysis to
the sociology of religion. This reinforces the universal
concept of the pattern by proving that the myth adapts
itself to almost any external setting, but remains es-
sentially unchanged. Chapter III then shows that the
images and symbols of the myth are reflected in the
Christian images and symbols of Medardus' life in 213
Elixiere des Teufels, and in the musical images and symbols

of the Kreisleriana and Kater Murr. Both the Christian

 

"adventure" of Medardus' life and the musical "adventure"
of Johannes Kreisler's life then reveal themselves to be
the same transcendental "adventure" taken by the hero of

the myth.

CHAPTER I

THE PATTERN OF THE HERO'S LIFE

I. The Composite Hero.

 

Why is the pattern of the life of the hero so sim-
ilar the world over? The answer to this question ex-
presses a universal human tendency. Jan de Vries writes:
"The central theme in an heroic life is an echo both of a
god’s first work of the creation and of its imitation in
the initiation ritual."l This casts the hero as an off-
spring of myth, making him a universal symbol. But how
could the divine attributes of myth be projected onto
human figures? For the hero is, after all, human - far
superior to the rest of us, to be sure, endowed as he is
with superhuman characteristics and surrounded by wondrous
circumstances - but human, nevertheless. Such an ex-
tension is not surprising. It personifies the circular
path of human wishful thinking. Long ago, man projected
his ideas about the universe and his place in it into the
sky. But since all religious meaning first appears to
man as alienated concepts,2 his evolving consciousness
made him aware of an incongruity between himself in his
finiteness and the timeless symbols which he had created
to explain himself and his surroundings. It became

5

6
imperative for the mental stability of the race to over-
come its alienation from these symbols by returning to
the aboriginal time of creation and experiencing the be-
ginnings, even going beyond the realm of earthly experience
to realize a oneness with the totality of things. This
had to be experienced as a reality. It meant that a human
being had to assume the role of the creating god who had
been invented by man in his need to rationalize the
universe. It is important to emphasize here that a
human assumed this role. The great personality who rises
above the human lot and hopefully returns to teach man
what he has learned about life and creation is not a faded
god. He is a human who lives and dies, but because of
human wish-projection, he sometimes seems to live on in
some undefined place in the sky. Thus the cyclic path
of wishful thinking: from man into the sky and back to
man again, explains how mythical attributes accrued to
human figures.

We have historical evidence for this in an ancient
Babylonian custom dating from a time when the concept of
kingship was intimately connected with religious thinking.
At the symbolic renewal time, the beginning of the new
year, the people would come together to celebrate the
passing of the old with a great feast. During the
celebration, the old creation myths were recited, the

king became the creating god himself, and the participants

 

7

experienced the creation of the cosmos out of chaos as a
reality. To participate in this ritual was to transcend
chronological time and return to the aboriginal act of
creation, and so it is no wonder that the personalities
of the kings gradually became attached to the identities
of the gods, who had been created by man in the first
place.3 The King achieved an immortality of sorts in
this role, and through him his people saw their wish for
immortality, their wish to be like the gods, fulfilled.
The kings became a folk hero. Thus we see that the heroic
life described as an "echo" of the first act of creation
is appropriate, but that the hero is really a mortal man
who has gone beyond the pale of common human existence.

The Babylonian rite incarnated man's thoughts about
the creation of the world and took him back to a time
when he did not feel distinct and apart from nature and
the universe as we feel today. The universality of this
incarnation is no surprise, for all raCes at all times
have speculated on their origins and told stories of the
creation of man and of the universe. The costumes and
settings have been different, of course, but the basic
plot has not varied much. Indeed one should expect that
projecting elements of various creation myths onto human
forms would result in a common pattern, no matter what
the setting. And it does. Ancient rites of passage

probably provide the best evidence for this, for they

8

have been practiced by all primitive societies, and

their inseparability from the myths make the myths
functional, giving them their real significance.5 Here
the hero represents the youth who undergoes the ritual
ordeal of dying to his childhood and being born again as
a man. To accomplish this rebirth, i.e., to experience it
as a realit , the youth and participating figures must
ritually recreate the world out of chaos, just like the
first act of creation. To the youth and the others this
meant actually reliving the life and deeds of the elevated
hero-figure, the one who first performed the divine act
of creation.6 The creation of form out of chaos is the
core of every creation myth, so the life of every folk
hero who engages in this activity will of necessity fit
into a common pattern. This is what we want to point out
in detail: that man's need to rediscover his common
origins, reintegrate himself into the totality of things
and thereby reinforce his hope for immortality, is uni-
versal and has been personified in the world-wide figure
of the composite hero. Let us now look more closely at
the characteristics of this figure.

The composite hero has many extraordinary attributes
and is surrounded by miraculous circumstances throughout
his life. He is born into a world where men have lost
their awareness of a common origin, where human conscious-
ness is limited to individual ego, where a personality

endowed with the ability to help man transcend his

9

spiritual deficiencies is badly needed. When this
personality appears, his experience can vary in intensity,
depending on the sophistication of the society which in-
vents him. The hero of the fairy tale, for instance,
overcomes his adversaries and wins a "microcosmic" victory
for himself; the hero of myth, at the broader end of the
same fundamental experience, learns how to help his
nation and achieves thereby a "macrocosmic" triumph;
tribal or local heroes help their folk, universal heroes
help the world. The wishful thinking that created the
first folk hero applies in both cases, only the levels of
sophistication vary. The basic plan of the hero's ad-
venture stays fundamentally the same, whether the action
is described as physical, as in the popular stories, or
as moral, as in the higher religions.

The following list of individual motifs is a break-
down of this "basic plan." When checking heroic biog-
raphies against the list, the reader should not expect
to find every element of the composite in every hero's
life; usually, however, motifs which are not directly
stated are implied at some point in the hero's career.

The reader should also note that motifs which cite gifts
and powers describe aspects of the hero's being which are
always present. When they come to light during the course
of his adventure, they are simply being rediscovered.

The "adventure" itself is listed as a separate motif in

10
the Pattern, but we shall actually view the whole heroic
life as an adventure, making it a grand motif under which
all of the others are subordinated. We then note that
his life-adventure parallels the three steps of the
initiation rites: separation, initiation and return: he
leaves the world, goes to the source of some power and
returns to enhance life by revealing his knowledge of

this power.

II. The Motifs of the Pattern.

A. The hero's birth is foretold by an oracle or in
a dream, often with the attendant prediction that the
person to be born will be the liberator (or destroyer) of
his people.9 Later, the prophecy of the birth becomes
portentous in tone and helps to endow the birth, mirac-
ulous in itself, with another awe-inspiring, supernatural
aspect.10

B. The hero's conception is miraculous, or at least
in some way unnatural. His begetting is often the result
of his mother's union with a god, often the result of
incest. Whatever the nature of the unnatural union, the
hero's parents are always of elevated rank and stature.ll

;. His mother is a virgin. Until the hero's

conception, she has been childless, so the hero is always

the first of his mother's children.

11

 

 

2.7 The hero's father can be a god. or he can be
a king who is closelyrelated to the hero's mother. Here
the hero's divine attributes can be highlighted by the
father's appearance in animal disguise, one of the in-
numerable supernatural forms at his disposal. Gods of
myth often assume animal forms to cohabit with female
humans who have had the good (or bad) fortune to titil-
late divine fancies. Underscoring the universality of
the pattern as reflected by the ancient rites of passage,
is the fact that assuming animal forms, yet retaining
the power of speech is an important aspect of ritual.12

C. The birth of the hero and the circumstances
surroundingihis birth are miraculous, or at least highly
unusual.

1. An authority—figure feels intimidated by the
news of the impendingibirth and tries to prevent it,
either by placing the mother in a situation which would
preclude conception, or by having the child destroyed
shortly after its birth.13

2. The mother keeps and bears the infant in a
concealed place.

3. The birth itself is unnatural.lh

Q._ The hero's childhood is difficult and dangerous.

1, He is exposed shortly after his birth. The

hero-infant is enclosed in vessels and put into rivers,

oceans and onto mountains; he is delivered into the hands

 

12

of assassins and carried into deserts - but the most
frequent place of exposure is in water. Since all life
originates ultimately from the sea, making water a symbol
of the creative act of birth, the exposure in water
symbolically implements man's need to participate vicar-
iously in the creative acts mentioned above; it can also
be seen as a representation of the oneness of all life, a
oneness which is as inseparable at birth as it is in-
evitable at death. That this oneness can also be per-
ceivable during life is what man has forgotten, and thus
it is the foundation of the knowledge that the hero
transmits, if he is successful. Knowledge of the
totality of all things is indicated by the hero already
at birth, where the immersion in water, seen as a rever-
sal of the birth-process, seems to re-assimilate his
barely distinct form back into the total universe.15 It
only seems to do this, however, for the hero's role has
been predetermined; it is not an achievement on his
part; thus there can be no obstacle obstructive enough
to prevent his realizing his destiny.16

2. Animals find and care for the exposed child.
The helpful animals are closely related to the hero's
foster parents in their clear and untroubled connection

17

to nature.

13

3. The child is found by people of lowly social
status and raised bythem.18

h. The hero's upbringing is obscure. But it is
known that he exhibits superhuman qualities very early.19
During this time, the hero is in contact with forces not
evident to the objective world. The foster parents'
close connection to nature, a bond hidden from the eyes of
ordinary men, symbolizes this period of the hero's life
and helps to explain why relatively little is known of his
youth. As far as the every-day world is concerned, the
hero does not exist, or if some knowledge of his existence
is possessed, it is enough to say only that he is in
exile from the "real" world, from the world of men. It
is now that the heroic qualities latent in his consti-
tution surface in superhuman feats of strength or in
demonstrations of amazing precocity.20

E. The hero goes out on adventure.

1. Immediately previous to the beginning of the
adventureL the hero is advised against violatinggcertain
taboos. Of course, he does violate the taboos, to what
at first seems his great misfortune.

2. The challenges faced by the hero during his
central adventure activate finally his latent heroic
attributes. On the course of his adventure, the hero

overcomes a horribly menacing obstacle of some sort: he

kills a monster, overcomes a tyrant-king or even defeats

11+

or outwits a god. At this point something can happen to
makc him iuvulnerable, except for one vulnerable spot.
It seems as though the hero is qualifying himself for a
kingship or for an elevation in status of some sort:
first, he wins magical contests in which he demonstrates
his power over the elements;then he fights and kills the
old king.21 He is actually facing the first of a series
of horrors lurking just beyond the pale of objective
reality. The idea that only in this kind of combat could
the heroic qualities be activated is expressed in an
objective setting by the epic poet, who believed that
fighting was an ennobling experience.22

3. The adventure is objectified_in a journey_to
the land where the hero is to exercise his greatest
influence. In the initiation rites, progressive develop-
ment of the heroic character is marked by victories the
hero wins on the way. His fight with the king is fre-
quently with the king whom he is to succeed. Many times
the monster the hero fights is the old king in ritual
disguise. But the magical contest is really more impor-
tant than the fight, for this contest tests the divine
king's power over the elements, and the hero must at some
time indicate that he, too, controls such powers.23 Now
these have the ring of fairy-tale motifs, or of events
from mythologies; they are also legitimate motifs of

heroic legend - but the important point here is that the

15
meaning and significance of the hero is independent of
any requirement that certain motifs should conform to
certain genre, or that events in the hero's life should
rest on historical fact.

h. After the hero has undergone the difficult
tests and overcome the threatening obstacles, he must then
surmount another imposingJ but pleasant obstacle. He
does this with the aid of a helper who arrives just in
time.

5. The knowledge and security attained by the
hero is personified in a maiden he wins.24

F. The hero becomes king.

1. Veryfilittle is heard about him after he
ascends to the throne. It should be apparent at this
point that the hero has reconciled in his person what was
really always one and the same: the human and the divine
(See pp. l-h). ‘There is thus little reason to hear any
more about him.

2. The hero-king descends to the underworld.
Implicit in this motif is the idea of creation as victory
over death. The underworld is a fertile place whence
come all the riches of the earth. This is why treasures
are often guarded by dragons, because monsters of this
sort symbolize the life-disposing powers of the underworld.
But these monsters can also be gods who long ago tried to

hide from man the treasures divinely formed from chaos,

l6

and who therefore had to be destroyed by heroic man so
that humanity as a whole might benefit from them. Because
life must constantly be renewed if it is to be sustained,
the hero's most impressive deeds, killing dragons and
rescuing maidens, appear as a dim image of the original
acts of creation. Out of death and chaos comes new life.
Life goes on, is eternal. To personify this idea is to
solve symbolically the problem of death. Any king who can
conquer death and personify eternal life can present him-
self to his people as a divine being. To make possible
his return from death, he must first go down to Hades, to
the realm of the dead. When he returns, his victory
over death then insures the immortality of the mortal king
in the person of the immortal hero, consequently presenting
the gift of eternal life to his people, who participate
vicariously in his descent (death) and return (resur-
rection).25
G. The hero's death is miraculous and occurs

amidst extraordinary circumstances.

1. He loses his throne suddenly and mysteriously,
without really suffering a defeat.

2. He dies young.

3. His death has been prophesied to him.

4. He defies his death.

5. He often dies on a hilltop.

6. His body is not buried nor is it ever found,

26

but he does have one or more sacred shrines.

CHAPTER II

THE MEANING OF THE MOTIFS

. . . true symbols have something illimitable
about them. They are inexhaustible in their suggestive
and instructive power. Heinrich Zimmer.

I. Understanding the Pattern.

The real meaning of the Pattern presents itself only
from a total perspective showing well-defined details. It
is the function of the Pattern as a whole to represent
"the generally valid, normally human forms,"1 but only
through a detailed view of the Pattern, can we understand
the significance of the human totality it symbolizes.

Here the word "totality" connotes universal human ten-
dencies, tendencies which have been narrated in myth and
enacted in ritual drama the world over. We saw one
example of this above, where the hero-king and the com-
munal god of ancient and primitive societies were really
one and the same being, the king being the incarnation

of the god in the presently-existing generation.2 In
this ancient view of god-king-community, man's efforts to
integrate himself individually and communally into the
world and ultimately into the universe shone through.

Now this was in reference to ancient Babylonian rites,

l7

 

18

but the effort to identify with the gods is one of the
universal human tendencies, and is thus not geographically
limited in any sense. The Mycenean kings, for instance,
provide another of an infinite supply of examples of this
activity. In the hero-cults which evolved from the royal
death-cults of these kings, man and god converged. The
meeting of the two expresses itself in the myth of the
hero, where the divine enters the human, and human enters
the divine.3

But here the objection might well arise that heroes
function in historical time, so how can we identify them
with gods? or gods with them? After all, gods and
mythologies act outside of profane time, in another di-
mension. In reply to this objection, we should have to
concede that heroes always have aspects of the historic
about them; they are not to be completely separated from
history. But the nature of their existence nevertheless
sets them above history, even if they had once been his-
torical figures and had attained divinity incidentally,
as Hercules in Olympus, or as the rest of the Greek
heroes in the Underworld. To insist on their historicity
is to deny the mythological connections they have with
the gods as well as the effect of the original images
they represent.h We must always conceive of the heroic
figure as being released from the limitations of space

and time. But the final meaning of such a transcendent

19
setting focuses then Only through the perspective of the
Pattern as an entity, and not as a series of individual
motifs.

Nevertheless, to understand the meaning of the
Pattern as an entity, we must know exactly what it is that
the individual motifs constituting the entity contribute
to the total meaning. Only then can we have a deep
awareness of the workings and effects of the total Pattern,
because only then will we have assimilated the details
and realized how each individual part works in harmony
with the whole. Indeed, as the discussion of the single
motifs proceeds, they will Seem more and more to fall into
natural categories. Observing this more closely shows
that a generic grouping of the motifs results in three
main categories, each representing a specific stage in
the hero's life. Each category stands for one of the
three steps in the ancient initiation rites, a subject
touched upon in the first chapter, or for a manifestation
of the Unconscious, or even for one of the limitations
man imposes on himself in order to maintain his greater
social existence. These suggestions will become clearer
below. The point here is that the symbols arising from
the myth of the hero and the stages of human life in-
corporated in the rites have been interpreted and analysed
from several perspectives - even within a single discipline.

Many are discussed below in order to give the reader an

 

20

idea of the many-faceted, subjective character of the
myth, but the scope of the material precludes a more ex-
tended offering. Mentioning several of the many ap-
proaches does emphasize the universal nature of the
Pattern, though, and that is the real justification for
doing so; for in whatever interpretive framework the
myth appears, the three categories mentioned above show
forth as generation, death and rebirth. The full meaning
of the Pattern finally appears at the end when it becomes
possible to conceive of the three categories and each
single motif together as a grand motif: the Adventure.
And this Adventure is the universal Adventure of Death.

With the direction and ultimate end of this evolve-
ment in mind, let us proceed to the discussion of each
motif of the Pattern. For the reader's convenience,
each one is repeated.
Only the man who stands on the leading edge of modern ex-
perience can enjoy the victory over death in his belief

in the fact of doubt, or in the face of despair, or in
the face of relativity. John S. Dunne.

II. The Motifs of the Pattern: Interpretation and
Analysis.
Motif A. The Hero's birth is foretold.
A young man is about to undergo initiation into
manhood. He trembles at the demonic and monstrous sounds
he hears all around him. The grotesque faces and intim-

idating forms will surely destroy him, or at least drive

21
him shamefully back to the laps of the women. But he
does not hesitate. He steps forward, for he knows that
he is now no ordinary human being, standing helpless
before the dark horrors of the unknown. From this instant
on up to his rebirth as a man, he exists in the sacred
time of the initiation, and his identity is one and the
same with the tribal hero. The young initiate is about
to recall the original event as it was lived by the hero
of the myth and live it as though it were really happening.
He knows that the hero, the being he now is, succeeded;
therefore he, too, shall succeed. He knows that the
birth of the hero was foretold; therefore his birth, too,
is a certain outcome. This belief lent the initiate a
great psychological support to help him through the rigors
of the initiation rites. It provides a raison d'étre for
the motif. The certainty and inevitability of a hero's
existence has to be consistent throughout. Believers
maintain this consistency by somehow projecting themselves
into the paradoxical timeless time of the hero and be-
lieving that they are he, actually performing the acts he
performed. Periodic repetition adds the weight of re-
assurance to the believer. The initiate, knowing the
correctness of the ancient myth and perceiving its nar-
ration and ritual reenactment as something happening
apart from earthly time, rather than as part of a

chronological sequence of repetitions, has no fear of

 

22
Failing to be "born" himself, especial Ly since ho -is
actually the hero and moves in the sacred ”time of the
hero's existence.

To initiate a boy into manhood is to create a new
man ritually. This presumes the activization of the
primeval event, for if one could not engage in the
aboriginal act of creation, then nothing at all could
be created.6 This was and is a tenet of firm belief in
the primitive world. It renders the sense of the pre-
diction of the hero's birth even more profound by placing
his birth at the instant of a new beginning, at "the
creation of the cosmos, the creation of a new world, of
a new epoch of history . . . a new life - at no matter

"7

what level of reality. In both heroic potentialities,
liberation and destruction, lies the glimmer of a new
dawning. Foreseeing new beginnings is always mankind's
most meaningful cognitive activity, and seeing them ful-
filled his most fervent hope. That the birth of a human
hero marks the beginning of the new time adds meaning to
what would otherwise be only a cosmological event. The
fulfillment of the prophecy dignifies and hallows the
history of a tribe or people and reassures the believer
that his faith and hope in the redeeming power of the
hero are of substance.

This explains the motif's consistency, but how did

it arise in the first place? It is obvious that the

23

inception of the motif rests on ontological grounds.
Our development of this argument begins with Mircea
Eliade's assertion that the heroic child's chance to be-
come something more than human is really foretold in the
myths of the gods themselves, for heroic biographies are
nothing more than a repetition of the myths of gods who
were abandoned at birth.8 This seems to be the "faded
god" theory denied above, but it is not; whether the story
is such a repetition or not, the point of most signifi-
cance here is that the hero is always human. The hero
is thus a personification of man's thoughts about being,
meaning and truth, an ontology, that is, which has been
symbolized in man's gods and projected far beyond himself
into a mysterious sphere of incomprehensibility. The
birth of the hero demonstrates that it is much more
meaningful to man to have a human incorporate this
symbol; the prediction of his birth would then be simply
an expression of man's ontological awareness, otherwise
inexpressible. His birth becomes an expression and symbol
of irrepressible, ongoing, eternal life as a religious,
sacred fact of being and reality. It must happen, as life
must, and is thus predictable.9

Man takes his first step in the quest for the truth
of being when he tries to consort with the gods. The

prediction of the hero's birth then becomes an objecti-

fication of man's hope to be able to keep the company of

2h

the gods here on earth - at least vicariously through the
identity of the god-like human hero. The advent and ful—
fillment of his birth reveal man's expectation that the
dead will participate in the lives of the living - this is,
after all, what is meant by consorting with the gods, and
it reconfirms the hero's humanity.10 The idea that man's
hope to communicate with the dead might operate effectively
and pragmatically on a modern existential level, makes
this motif even more significant. The prediction of the
hero's birth can represent man's propensity to repeat
experiences on the immediate, existential and historical
levels of life. To experience one's own creation by
striving for self-understanding through insight into all
three of these levels of human condition is to move back
before the time of one's own birth. This would be an
attempt to move to a clear perspective of past and future
and "to appropriate (one's) own life or lifetime" and
finally to move to the historical level and appropriate
all of life, including present time and all of history.11
The most significant experience to be appropriated would
be the hero's experience, as primitive man thought. The
great hope for the one trying to appropriate this experi-
ence is that the prophecy of its occurrence came true.
The birth now reveals the desire of all men to consort
with gods, i.e., to realize the wish to have the dead

participate in the lives of the living.

25

The experience of one's own creation presumes an
act of will which lends great meaning to that part of life
which is least subject to human will: birth. It is the
idea of coming into existence willingly. It makes the
prophecy a verbal symbol of the hero's creative power to

. . . draw being out of nothingness. It is not

that such power is supposed to be given as an ele-

ment in human experience. The experience would

be of becoming and of the orientation that becoming

has from nothingness toward being. The experience

of reliance upon creative power would be an
experience of willingly becoming, of willingly
moving away from nothingness toward being, of
willingly being created.13

The prophecy is the hero's predicting his own birth

and willingly undergoing it. It is man in control of his

destiny from the very beginning.

Motif B. The hero's conception is miraculous.

1. His mother is a virgin.

2. His father can be a god, or he can be a king who

is closely related to the hero's mother.

The motif of the virgin birth probably has its his-
torical roots in primitive man's belief about the origin
of children. Early religious man did not regard the male
as a procreator; he was a father in a legal, social sense
only. Children originated rather in the earth and were
inserted directly into the mother's womb when she came in
contact with some animal or object. Men were related to
one another through their mothers only, and even that

relationship was not too certain. Men were offspring of

26
the land in a literal, not a figurative sense. Their
souls originated before birth in caves, rocks, crevices,
chasms and water - or they were alive in a pre-human form
in a cosmic zone somewhere. As such, the children belonged
to the "place," to the microcosm, and the mother merely
"received" them and helped them to complete their human
form.

The same belief accounts for the divinity of the
father. As evidenced by his belief in the origin of
children, primitive religious man thought of the earth
as a cosmic hierophany, i.e., as a cosmic manifestation
of the sacred, before he regarded it as chthonian, i.e.,
as a part of the underworld.lu The earth was the ges-
tating-place of the children, the womb of their souls.
Finite forms of the earth-hierophany kept the soul until
the time was right for transferring it to the mother's
body for human development. Thus it is clear that the
earth played the procreating role of the father, as well.
When the earth lost her sacred symbolism, the role of
procreator had to be incorporated into another symbol of
the sacred if the universe was to remain a meaningful
place. The creative force was projected onto the hero's
father. As the creative force, he implies all forms in
his symbolic role by revealing himself in various guises;
to be humanly conceivable, though, he must be anthro-

pomorphic (i.e., he must be able to speak even in animal

27

form, etc.). It is thus expected that an anthropomorphic
god begets the hero, for the hero, as the symbolic ideal
of human development and the supreme projection of human
wishful-thinking, is the living symbol of the purpose of
all religious speculation: to make human existence
meaningful. As Peter Berger writes: "Religion is the
audacious attempt to conceive of the entire universe as
being humanly significant."15 Thus, where before the
sacred earth held the source of life, it is now an
anthropomorphic divinity.

From the historical and theoretical evolution of
the motif we can proceed to a better understanding of
the symbolism it has gathered to itself in the course of
its evolution. Joseph Campbell says that the virgin
birth represents the "Invisible-Unknown" putting on an
earthly disguise. The mother is the disguise and remains
a virgin because the spirit-father is unknown and in-
visible.16 But the virgin birth can also mean the oneness
of the universe which it is ultimately impossible to
violate. Like the union of atoms in the formation of a
compound, where the nature of the compound is distinct
without itself violating the integrity of the individual
atoms; like the marriage of the sky to the earth in the
ancient rite of heiros amos, where form is created out
of the material of the earth without changing the essence

of the materia itself; like the marriage of the sun and

28

the moon, of sulphur and quicksilver - the union of the
virgin mother with the divine father is the pulsating of
the one universe. It is man standing in the river; it

is the universe remaining constant and indivisible in
change; it endures and is not affected by the vicissitudes

of its constituent parts. It remains untouched - virginal.

Motif C. The birth of the hero and the circumstances
surrounding his birth are miraculousyypr at
least highly unusual.

1. An authority—figure feels intimidated by the

news of the impending birth and tries to prevent
15.

2. The mother keeps and bears the infant in a

concealedjplace.

3. The birth itself is unnatural.

Again, from a discussion of the historical evolution
of this motif, we can hope to derive a clearer understand-
ing of the symbolism it incorporates. It seems to be
connected to the primitive concept of the earth, mentioned
above, as the harborer of the souls of children. If forms
of the earth are considered to be sacred symbols, then
the birth of a child is a sacred event; this is in keeping
with the old belief that the mother's conception in the
first place was a supernatural "placing" of the child in

her womb as a result of her coming into contact with

sacred, earthly, finite forms like rocks, plants,

29

animals, etc. Remembering that primitive man's super-
stitions endowed the earth with eosmie l'ol'm, i.e., let
it was consirered part of the whole area, part of the
microcosm; and that this form protected the souls of
children before they assumed human form, we can deduce
what immensely supernatural - even cosmic - meaning must
have attached to the birth of a child.

The earth as the mother goddess, as Tellus Mater,
represents one of the first theophanies of the earth. As
such, the earth was the mother of all things. According
to some scholars, the placing of babies on the ground
immediately after birth was meant as a dedication to the
earth mother. Others say that this was done to put the
child in contact with the earth's magic powers, or to
obtain a soul for the child.17 Whatever the surface
meaning, the disagreement is resolved in the significance
associated with the earth in all of these rites: the
earth is ". . . the source at once of force, of 'souls,'
of fecundity - the fecundity of the Earth Mother." Re-
calling the first view of the earth as a microcosm, as a
"cosmic unity identified with the whole surrounding area,
and not merely with the earth as such,"18 we can see in
the rituals once again the concept of the unity of all
things. If the earth has this total meaning, then the
placing of a child on the ground is an expression of

man's awareness of his integration with the whole

30

surrounding area. The more sophisticated a civilization
becomes, the more complicated become the allegories which
give symbolic expression to this otherwise inexpressible
feeling. Perhaps the stories of Jesus on the straw in
the manger in swaddling clothes, or of Perseus' birth
underground, or of Momotaro's birth from a peach - we
could go on and on - perhaps these stories are more
sophisticated developments of this ancient symbolism for
man's earthly origins.

The connection of the birth of the hero to this
historical background reaffirms again his essential
humanity. As pointed out above, the hero is an incar-
nation of the sacred in the myth of a people, and the
sacred is the hero, or the initiate as hero, in ritual
passage. That is, the hero and the god are different
appearances of the same being. But if we remember that
the hero's birth roots in the sacred earth just as any
other man's birth, then we can understand the full import
of the myth of the hero to his people. His triumph over
forces detrimental to them, his founding laws and customs,
and his deification (i.e., his being born to death) are
all related by the myth.

The above discussion pointed up the inseparability
of the myth from the rite as the means to activate the
original event, in this case, the birth and whole life of

the hero. When the initiate begins the process of rebirth

31
to manhood (or when the alchemist is in the incipient
stage of spiritual rehewal, or the mystic - the passage
mirrors itself in varying contexts and levels of pro-
fundity), the recitation of the part of the myth that
relates the birth of the hero activates the creation of
the hero as though it were really happening. The super-
natural aspect of the hero's birth is assimilated by his
imitator, and the mysterious, more-than-human aura of the
birth on the straw or under the earth is absorbed by the
one imitating the ideal and becomes part of his being.
For the duration of his existence in the sacred time
of the passage, he undergoes the very same supernatural
birth as the hero. In the knowledge he gains into the
secrets of being and reality, as expressed here at the
beginning of life, lies the true meaning of the "miraculous"
birth of the hero.

The threat to the child's life, or the effort to
prevent his birth, both of which stand as reasons for his
mother's removal to a concealed place, are also consis-
tent with the import of the total Pattern. As a person
standing "on the leading edge of experience," a symbol of
new beginning and a departure from the old, the hero's
birth poses a threat to tradition. Tradition clothes
itself in the dress of the threatening authority-figure.
The hero intends to usurp his throne, so the throne must

act to eliminate the threat (For more on this, see

32

Q

—

Chapter I, n. 10; see also the following analysis).

Motif D. The hero's childhood is difficult and dangerous.

1. He is exposed shortly after his birth.

2. Animals find and care for the exposed child.

3. The child is found by people of lowly social

status and raised by them.

4. The hero's upbringing is obscure.

Of course the hero cannot have a childhood in the
common human mode. His childhood experience must be ex-
traordinary, for his childhood is as much a part of his
sacred nature as all other segments of his life. The
child who is exposed to the elements is the child who is
marked by destiny to become a hero, saint, or king. As
Mircea Eliade expresses it:

1:

The tragedy of the abandoned child is made up for

by the mythological grandeur of the 'orphan,’

the primeval child, with its utter and invulnerable
loneliness in the universe, his uniqueness . . .

A child abandoned to the Earth-Mother, saved and
brought up by her (the animals and lowly parents) no
longer has any part in the common destiny of mankind,
for he re-enacts the cosmological instant of 'be-
ginning,' and grows not in the midst of a family, but
in the midst of the elements. That is why heroes and
saints come from among abandoned children: merely

by protecting the child, and preserving it from
death, the Earth-Mother (or the Water-Mother) is
dedicating it to a tremendous destiny which a common
mortal could never attain.19

This is the common denominator running through all
analyses and interpretations which either reflect or
parallel the motif. No matter whether the analytical

framework is psychoanalytical, soteriological, cosmogonic

33

or historical, all approaches point to the hero's child—
hood as the beginning of the fulfillment of his destiny,
not as an inactive period with little significance for the
Pattern as a whole.20 Water as the most frequent place
of exposure upholds the child's potential, for new begin-
nings, the dawning of new ages, human rebirth - in short,
anything pointing to rebirth and reintegration, anything
enabling man to participate in the first creative act

and thereby project human meaning into the universe has
been symbolized by water. Mircea Eliade expresses its
significance best:

Principle of what is formless and potential, basis

of every cosmic manifestation, container of all
seeds, water symbolized the primal substance from
which all forms come and to Which they will return
either by their own regression or in a cataclysm. It
exists at the beginning and returns at the end of
every cosmic or historic cycle; it will always exist,
though never alone, for water is always germanitive,
containing the potentiality of all forms in their
unbroken unity. In cosmogony, in myth, ritual and
iconography, water fills the same function in whatever
type of cultural pattern we find it; it precedes all
forms and upholds all creation. Immersion in water
symbolizes a return to the pre-formal, a total re-
generation, a new birth, for immersion means a dis-
solution of forms, a reintegration into the formless-
ness of pre-existence; and emerging from the water is
a repetition of the act of creation in which form

was first expressed.21

The hero's emergence from water continues the
creative cycle and endows it with sacred meaning by
appearing as the very first emergence of form from chaos,
i.e., by imitating the first creative act. His rescue

by animals and his obscure upbringing by lowly parents

3h

then mark a withdrawal from life, from the life of
objective reality, that is, and an introduction to the
details of the Pattern he is to follow in his new life.
This is the beginning of the beginning mentioned above;
this is the dim, indistinct encounter with the "seed
powers" which instill the hero with the creative drive
necessary for the fulfillment of his destiny. Campbell's
interpretation is soteriological, for he sees in the
universal heroic Pattern an example to be emulated by

all men which ideally results in a feeling of oneness
with the whole universe - a form of salvation.22 But
even psychoanalysis points to the same basic idea of
oneness which is the hero's destiny. As M. L. von Franz
writes: "The self is often symbolized as an animal,
representing our instinctive nature and its connectedness
with one's surroundings."23 Knowledge of the self in all
its conscious and unconscious aspects is the goal of
Jungian depth-psychology, and it is obvious that this
sort of knowledge can be regarded as knowing one's
personal "destiny." The further one develops in this
direction, the more sophisticated become the symbols of
the Self and its relationship with the total environment,
as shall be pointed out below, until finally full self-
knowledge is attained comprehensively in the inclusion of
conscious awareness, albeit symbolic, of the instinctual

tendencies of mankind, past and present. Motion towards

35

this destiny begins here, with the appearance of the
animals and the lowly parents.

The young initiate described above who assumes the
hero's identity in order to engage in the same creative
acts performed for the first time by the hero, readies
himself for a sudden separation from a preceding life-
Pattern. The uncertainties and horrors associated with
such a sudden withdrawal come from the violence of the
creation of form from chaos. The creative force setting
all this in motion recalls the father's appearance as an
animal, described in Motif B 2, for the creative force is
usually a masculine symbol. The varying interpretations
of the symbol all reduce to the first signification
of the father-symbol, whatever the form: to that of prime
mover. Connecting this symbol with the helpful-animal
motif here broadens the scope of heroic symbology even at
the beginning of the pattern. To establish this connection,
let us recall the meaning that the father's appearance in
animal form had for the hero's origin. The father's
ability to appear in animal form - or in other forms of
nature, as well - pointed to the hero's divine origins,
divine meaning here generally the life force which exists
in all of nature's variant forms. Recalling that the
helpful animals represent the hero's contact with funda-
mental forces of nature, we can see that the two symbols

together represent different aspects of the same force.

36
The father-animal, the helpful animals and the foster
parents, creators and helpers all, would be the universe
showing itself in finite form to help widen the perspective
which tries to comprehend and 22 all of creation, or which
attempts to internalize the social identity of a group,
or to appropriate all of human experience, or to plumb
the reservoir of unconscious human memories and instincts
in a search for self-understanding; the contexts in which
these motifs appear are almost infinite, but their under-
lying centers remain constant, imbedded as they are in the
universal conception of the motif.

Limiting ourselves for now to the literal sense of
the hero's "withdrawal," we see that the experience is
somewhat akin to a mystical experience in its irratio-
nality and naiveté. It is naive in the face of the hard
realities of egocentric existence, since it involves a
dissolution of the ego in a concept of total being,2h and
the destruction of the ego is a horrible prospect to
consider; its very contemplation seems incredibly naive
to more limited men. The first steps taken in this
direction are difficult. The naive innocence of the child
wending its way around and up the torturous path is an
appropriate symbol for the meaning of this stage of the
hero's life. It is neither the experience nor the goal of

a "normal" childhood. As Meister Eckhart wrote:

37

Perfect detachment is without regard, without either
lowliness or loftiness to creatures; it has no mind
to be below nor yet to be above; it is minded to be
master of itself, loving none and hating none, having
neither likeness nor unlikeness, neither this nor
that, to any creature; the only thing it desires to
be is to be one and the same (my own emphasis). For
to be either this or that is to want something. He
who is this or that is somebody; but detachment wants
altogether nothing. It leaves all things unmolested.

25
This is one of many expressions of progress toward
the ultimate goal of what is here best called spiritual
renewal. Joseph Campbell describes it as the hero's
probing the secret regions of his own soul; mysticism,
from where the expression above comes, calls it the
second step of the Way, where the senses are cleaned and
purified and attention is focused on things transcen-
dental; psychoanalysis regards this in general as the
process of exorcising infantile images. The ultimate
result is the hero's realizing that he is at one with all
things. The stage of progress represented by this motif
is perhaps the most difficult, just as the first step
in any developmental process is the psychologically most
difficult one. The hero-initiate and all other par-
ticipants are encouraged, however, by the intuitive
knowledge that ". . . it has always been the prime
function of mythology and rite to supply the symbols
that carry the human spirit forward."26 All of the

symbols of this motif, water, animals, etc., have just

this function in common, as has been amply demonstrated.

38

Motif E. The hero goes out on adventure.

1. Immediately previous to the beginning of the
adventure,_the hero is advised against violating
certain taboos.

2. The challenges faced by the hero during his
central adventure activate his latent heroic
attributes.

3. The adventure is objectified in a journey to a
land where the hero is to exercise his greatest
influence.

4. After the hero has undergone the difficult tasks
and overcome the threatening,obstacles, he must
then surmount another imposing, but pleasant
hindrance.

33 The knowledge and security the hero gains is
personified in a maiden he wins.

Soteriologically, the hero's adventure is an allegory

of the spiritual process of separation from the illusory
world and integration with the Absolute, with the oneness

27

of the universe - to be "without self." Sociologically,
the dissolution of the ego reveals man's need to submit
himself "masochistically" to the deity, or to a disciple
of the deity, in order to transcend himself and thereby
give cosmic meaning to the idea of his existence.28 Ob-

jectively seen, rites of passage in primitive as well as

in more sophisticated societies do give the individual a

39

symbolic means of social development beyond ego conscious-
ness. For example, by ritually submitting to the social-
ization of human instinctual tendencies (such as the
socialization of the sex drive in marriage), the "initiate"
takes an important step towards the total integration of
his personality with the established social order. When
he engages in other ritually-enacted aspects of this order,
he internalizes the meaning and significance of the
microcosm which is that order. He becomes an integer in
the sum. By thus assimilating other experiences of life,
which constitute his "adventure," the individual is more
able to withstand the grief and pain that must inevitably
come to him. As Peter Berger writes:

(man) . . . may 'lose himself' in the meaning-

giving nomos ('a meaningful order') of his society.

In consequence, the pain becomes more tolerable, the

terror less overwhelming, as the sheltering canopy

of the nomos extends to cover even those experiences
that may reduce the individual to howling animality.

29
Campbell asserts that the initiation rites also
purge the hero of the last vestiges of ignorance and ego
and fear. Obviously, then, the two approaches define
the same goal: to assuage man's fear of death. But they
are as different to each other as theology is to logic.
CFhe one is an edifying theory of personal salvation based
crn.the thought, theory and method of fundamental mysticism

hnith terminological references to depth-psychology and

Sfiet in the allegorical stages of the initiation rites;

140

the other is an empirically-based explanation of man's
need to preserve and maintain his social order in the
face of chaos and death and to justify the existence of
threatening forces from without. Both contexts lend
great human significance to this stage of the hero's
life, since both recognize man's attempt to see a divine
justice in the face of evil. Such a theory is called
theodicy, and it is intimately bound to the hero's final
adventure. Specifically, a theodicy is

man's attempt to make a pact with death. Whatever

the fate of any historical religion or that of

religion as such, we can be certain that the

necessity of this attempt will persist as long as

men die and have to make sense of the fact.30

Integration with the total social order has been

carried even farther by man in his effort, not merely to
come to terms with death, but to solve the problem and be
immortal here on earth. The Greek city-states, for
example, perceived immortality in the idea of an immutable
past. To be alienated in some way from this past was to
be damned in the sense that man thereby limited himself
to his finite existence. On the other hand, a man who
actually made and kept the past by executing meaningful
deeds could participate in its immortality. From this

31

comes the concept of the Eternal City. Here adventure

upholds the social order and assures the hero of his
immortality at the same time, although it seems to differ

from the sociological theory in that the concept of

hl

immortality connoted in the symbol of the Eternal City is
a personal, egocentric one, rather than one conceived of
impersonally and projected onto the societal group.

In whatever context one chooses to consider the
motif of the adventure, he would always have to go to
the history of religion to find the earliest manifestations
and beginning evolvement of the central meaning under-
lying it. Here the same, instinctual urge apparent in all
of the above contexts appears again, the urge to find a
transcendent place somewhere. To the historian of
religion, it reveals itself as primitive religious man's
desire to return to a state of undifferentiated form,
where all attributes exist side by side. This is the core
of the motif, which explains the presence of the seemingly
insurmountable difficulties surrounding it. All the
variant myths of quest and initiation trials tell of the
hardships and horrors demi-gods and heroes encounter
when trying to enter a transcendent place. They are all
rich in the horror-and-dread-evoking imagery which is
symbolic of the discouragingly formidable mental and
spiritual effort required to turn away from ego-identity
and return to a condition of oneness with the universe.

The reader may want to understand all of this as
a symbol of some universal, metaphysical purpose, or he
might prefer to impose the empirical limits of the

sociologist on his thinking and regard it as a symbolic

£42

projection of man's need to sanctify his social order. It
is our purpose here only to indicate the irreducible
tendency of the motif by pointing out that all of the
myths and rites which narrate and reenact the dangerous
adventure the here has along the way reveal
. . in artistic or dramatic form the actual act

by which the mind gets beyond a conditioned,

piecemeal universe swinging between opposites to

return to the fundamental oneness that existed

before creation.32

It is most appropriate to regard the sub-headings
of this motif as symbolic steps along the way. It may
seem illogical at first to imply that they constitute its
irreducible meaning, but it is really not a contradiction.
It is rather like saying that three units make up the
square root of the number nine. We know that the square
root consists of three, but that it is nevertheless an
irreducible factor at the same time; it cannot be the
square root of any number but nine. We know that the
motif consists cf several sub-motifs, but that it has
nevertheless an irreducible meaning, it cannot be anything
but the instinctual urge described above.

Let us begin then with the taboos that the hero is
warned against violating.' On the social level, these are
his own ego-centric defense mechanisms which protect his
social identity. To yield to the exhortation of the

disciple, to begin a spiritual process where success is

marked by the disappearance of part or all of socialized

43

identity, is to pose an immediate threat to the instinct
for social selfapreservation. This is the most inviolable
taboo. Or it seems to be. For after the hero violates
it, the biographies show how short-lived the incurred
misfortune is, and how soon it turns into good fortune.33
According to depth-psychology, the taboos are the dark
forces of the UnConscious; to the sociologist, they would
perhaps represent the horrible thought of the "totally
other," that conception of religious thinking which
alienates men from society and nature. Alienation means
here that man has forgotten that his relationship to
society is dialectical (i.e., man produces society and
society produces man), with the result that he produces

n34

". . . a world which denies him. As pointed out in

the first chapter, man projected his thought about being
and reality into the sky long ago, but not being conscious
of that fact, he is filled with fear and awe when con-
templating what now seemstotally and completely "other"

to him. The religious meanings, "objectified projections,"
as Berger calls them in The Sacred Canppy, as they "imply
an overwhelming sense of otherness, may be described as
alienated projections" (p. 89). What could be comprehen-
sible in human terms - simply because it is a human
product — is now covered with mysterious symbols of

sacred, and this aspect of the world now becomes an awe-

inspiring, terrible, unknown place.

an

It is not our purpose here to discuss the power
this sort of alienation has had on man, how it has
maintained his social institutions, such as marriage, by
"mystifying" them and implying them to be a priori condi-

35

tions of human existence. We do want to show, however,
that even to controvert the sociological consequences of
alienation is to violate objectified versions of the
"taboos" imaged in the Pattern of the hero's life. As
Berger explains it, man internalizes the sacred meaning
of the role assigned to him by society. For example, a
husband playing his role in the sacred institution of
marriage identifies his total being with this "socialized
identity." When faced with an alternative action in this
role, he accepts only that course of action which his
socialized identity deems the correct one. Any other
choice is impossible.36 If, on the other hand, the hus-
band were able to listen to the sound of his total being,
he would see that the choices open to him are infinite,
and not really limited to his socially defined role as a
husband. But to follow a path other than the one laid
down by society is to place one's social identity in
jeopardy. Thus man has alienated his total self from his
institutions and has made inviolable taboos of potential,

attempts to include the total human personal and col-

lective experience in his individual constitution.

1&5

Whatever the context of the interpretation, it is
clear that the hero rejects one identity to search for
another. He leaves a well-defined role - in which he is
actually alienated from his total being - and strikes off
on the road to non-alienation, towards reintegration with
his total being, in keeping with the archetypal urge
described above. To do this, he must challenge the sacred
meaning his social order seems to reveal to him by going
beyond the limited identity it has assigned. The initial
misfortune he suffers is ostracism and complete alienation
from social convention, which is the real taboo he has
violated. But at the highest level of experience, he is
"saved" through his realization that all social order is
a human product to which man, and not some "other," has
given sacred meaning, and that man ultimately does not
have to feel alienated from it nor fatalistically subject
to it. Taken to the extreme conclusion, the effect of a
mystical religious experience would be the disassociation
of all sacred religious meaning from social institutions.
Thus relieved of the aspect of otherness, they are no
longer alienated from heroic man, who sees them as illusory
and - aside from their control over unenlightened persons -
meaningless human works.37

To face the challenge of ego-destruction, the hero
must call on existential forces that have been lying

dormant until now. [These forces have to be especially

116

effective to cope with the terrible symbols which arise
to defend the superficial ego. Symbols of totality
connote the real power of these existential forces.
Although the aspect of the symbols vary, of course, de-
pending on the point of view of the analysis or interpre-
tation, the idea of totality is always implied. Campbell
refers to them as symbols of forces which represent the
life force of the universe, i.e., the Absolute.38
Jungian psychoanalysis regards them as fairer, deeper,
more comprehensive truths about the self pushing aside
"cherished illusions" with the help of the analyst.39
Together, these forces reveal what Jung calls the Collective
Unconscious, that part of the psyche which harbors the
"archetypes, the primordial images common to humanity."Ll0
What Jung calls one experience of an archetype seems to
parallel the sociological view of identity with the
group, as discussed above. But where sociology is bound
by the need for empirical evidence, psycholanalysis
fully recognizes the aspect of the irrational inhuman
experience. The irrational is what makes the encounter
with the above truths so frightening, for in Jung's
words,

the experience of the archetype is frequently guarded

as the closest personal secret, because it is felt to

strike into the very core of one's being. It is like

the primordial experience of the non-ego, of an

interior opponent who throws down a challenge to the
understanding.

 

47

It is obvious that the experience of non-ego in
one setting or another is the nucleus of all the analyses
mentioned here. The reader has seen that many areas of
inquiry into the human condition reveal the universal
human need to communicate between conscious and uncon-
scious levels of existence. Sociology sees the need re-
flected in man's view of his society as a microcosm which
meaningfully mirrors the total human experience set in
what would otherwise be a meaningless, empty cosmos. The
very raison d'etre of psychoanalysis is the human need to
"mediate between conscious and unconscious reality."u2
The appearance of symbols from the myth of the hero in
dream analysis points to the myth as the oldest and most
universal expression of this longing. It is from these
symbols in numerous cases that the analyst makes his de-
ductions and, in Jung's theory of the Collective Un-
conscious, his inductions. The objective of the analyst -
and of anyone who seeks the truth - is the goal of the
myth, also. As Joseph Campbell puts it: "The goal of the
myth is to dispel the need for (such) life ignorance by
effecting a reconciliation of the individual unconscious
with the universal will."u3 When the hero defeats the
monsters, dragons and other hindrances to this communi-
cation and reconciliation, he has restored "the normal

an

state of things." What this normal state of things is

supposed to be, whether the predominance of conscious

1&8

reality over the forces of the unconscious, or society
conceived of as a microcosm, or primitive reintegration
into sacred time, all depends on the context of the
analysis at hand.

The hero is now almost completely free of recurring
ontological doubts. Only his one vulnerable spot remains
to pose a potential regression. It is possible that the
monster will devour him the next time. The possibility
of defeat is always present, and explains why only the
most superior men, the heroes, dare to probe the depths.
Jung writes:

But if a man is a hero, he is a hero because, in the
final reckoning, he did not let the monster devour
him, but subdued it - not once but many times. It
is in the achievement of victory over the collective
psyche that the true value lies; and this is the
meaning of the conquest of the treasure, of the
invincible weapon, the magic talisman - in short, of
those desirable goals that the myths tell of.

Anyone who identifies himself with the collective
psyche, or, in symbolic language, lets himself be
devoured by the monster and becomes absorbed in her,
also attains to the treasure defended by the dragon,
but he does so in spite of himself and to his own
great loss. 5

To be heroic, the hero must return victorious. Just
to dare the venture is not enough. He must resist the
universal yearning for reintegration.)46 His discovery
of essential oneness (the collective unconscious, some-
times called the collective psyche; the macrocosm in the

societal microcosm, etc.) must be used for the benefit of

himself, or his people, or mankind’- depending on the

'49
sophistication of the myth. He must "become himself the

initiator and guide through whom others might transcend

good and evil to the majesty and serenity of the universe."

Transcending good and evil would be restoring the
"normal state of things." The hero cuts off some vital
organ, killing the monster. He then steps forth, often
with those whom the monster devoured before. The un-
conscious is now "robbed of its energy,(and) no longer
occupies the dominant position."u8 The reborn hero now
takes the final step in his return from the depths. He
returns to land. It now remains for him to find a posi-
tion in the area where he will act as guide, i.e., in
the land where he is to exercise his greatest influence.
The potential force of his influence lies in his having
assimilated his unconscious. Once he has done this, he
realizes all the difficulties that make up his being.

He feels responsible for the entire human condition, a
responsibility that the "mass man" is unable to perceive.
According to Jung, the man who assimilates his uncon-
scious at least has the chance to reach a higher spiritual
perspective. The hero, however, as the ideal, £233 reach
it. He attains to a "spiritual point of vantage, a
kingdom that is not of this world."u9

The last step to this vantage point represents the

final, but pleasant obstacle, pleasant because it does not

obscure the final goal, but rather connotes fulfillment in

'47

50

its position as the last step of the way. It is an
imposing obstacle, though; it requires a helper to
surmount. Again, the helper often appears as an animal.
In psychoanalysis, the helpful animal is the Self trying
to free itself from the negative forces of the anima.
(the feminine tendencies within every man) in order to
enroll her in her positive role as mediator between the
ego and the unconscious, "between the ego and the Self."50
In mythology, the hero's first experience of the anima
is negative. On his passage to totality, he perceives
woman as a fierm voluptuous manifestation of~the flesh.
But as he probes more deeply into the secrets of life
with the guidance of helpers in animal and other forms,
he comes upon the secrets of existence which lie beyond
the flesh.

The female image then becomes positive as it is
enlisted first as a mediator between ego consciousness
and the unknown, then as a symbol for what has been

51

learned about the unknown. The positive evolution of
the feminine image is symbolically marked by the hero's
fight with the dragon. In Jungian terms, the negative
force of the anima is an over-bearing mother-image from
which the hero frees his anima when he subdues the dragon.

The youthful feminine image released from the dragon's

power represents the hero's newly-won maturity. He has

51

clarified and made a more conscious part of his total
being that aspect of his personality personified in the
feminine image. To state it in terms of the myth, the
maiden plays a positive role as a symbol for a consciously
comprehended aspect of totality.52
Whatever the critical and analytical approach to
the myth, the process of becoming always threatens the
ego. Explicitly or implicitly all interpretations con-
sider this to be a real and present danger to the final
meaning of the myth. If the hero's introspectiveness
holds him inside, the loss of his own finite identity
will be a loss to his fellow man also. In his new aware-
ness of all there is to know, he is far from the world of
secondary appearances which is the world of men. But as
the Pattern shows, his destiny fulfills itself only when
he returns to the world of appearances "to confront
society with his ego-shattering, life-redeeming elixir,
and take the return blow of reasonable queries, hard re-
sentment, and good people at a loss to comprehend."53
Just as he was helped on his way "in," he must now be
helped on his way "out." Whereas before the helpers
appeared as aspects of the hero's unconscious, as emis-
saries from unknown regions, the helpers who appear now
are masculine images (feminine in women) from the con-

scious world, such as wise old men, gurus, etc. They

prevent the destruction of ego-consciousness and save the

52

total individual. He now becomes aware of his total

self - which would not be total without what was before

a severely-limited ego-consciousness. All symbols of

danger are rendered harmless. This redemption of the

self is the ultimate meaning of the hero's victory over

threatening aspects of his anima (the dragon). The

victory can also be described as the "redemption" of this

aspect of the anima, which is now a fully integrated,

positively contributing part of the Self.5u
The feminine image of the maiden won incorporates

the release of energies, the gaining of knowledge, and

the achievement of fame; it thus contains in its con-

notative import all of the stages along the way to total

awareness. His marriage to her is the marriage of his

ego to his total self. It is the communication of his

personal conscious with the personal and the Collective

Unconscious. It is the mythological consummation of his

destiny. Whatever the interpretive application, the essence

of the feminine image of this motif is life itself. The

55

maiden is life, and the hero knows her in every respect.

 

53

Motif F. The hero becomes king.

1. Very little is heard about him after he ascends

to the throne.

2. He descends to the underworld.

The hero at the summit, disposing human history
and providing a continuing example of the fulfilled life:
this is the image which reveals itself at all levels of
speculation on the human ideal. It has inspired the
thinking of men on the "edge of experience," the vanguard
thinkers who have dreamed the heroic dream right down to
our own time. Their projection of sublime values and
divine attributes onto the image and their subsequent
effort somehow to identify with it reveal mankind's common
desire to transcend the present human condition. This
desire is the very thread of the composite myth, and the
wishful-thinking that it is has been cited as the primary
reason for the universality of the Pattern. Its intensity
varies. It ranges from practical-sounding political con-
siderations to the unio mystica. But always implicit is
the conception of fulfillment. In the imagery and
symbology of the myth, fulfillment clothes itself in the
royal vestment of the hero-king. This carries over to
other contexts, as well, for the man who has fought and
won the battle, killed the monster, won the maiden and
proven himself superior to the common lot can always be

thought of as king, whatever the point in time.

5h

The deeds of the man who has undergone so many

grueling tasks in order to become king cannot possibly
be so spectacular again. He is fulfilled in his role as
king, and little more is heard from him. Indeed, if
speculation on the hero emanates from the desire to
identify with projected ideals, the vicarious fulfillment
of imitating the projection is reason enough for the
hero's reticence at this point. He does indeed symbolize
fulfillment as king, and further progress is redundant,
no matter what context the projection issues from.
Thomas Carlyle's hero, for instance, connotes this sort
of fulfillment beyond which it is impossible to go. Of
Carlyle's hero, Eric Bently writes:

He postulates the hero because, in the first place,

the hero is human, fleshly, successful, the highest

point in the evolutionary process, and because,

in the second place, men may transfer to the hero

the feelings they had associated with God. The

hero is an instrument of progress and a justification

of life. His achievements are substantial, the

hope he holds out is unbounded. Through him body

and spirit, time and eternity, policy and religion,

and reconciled . . . in a new Weltanschauung.5

Hope of fulfillment in the hero is expressed by

Nietzsche in a preface (originally unpublished) to The
Birth of Tragedy: "I would like nothing better,"
Nietzsche writes, "than to meet a man . . . of angry
greatness, with the bravest eye and keenest will; at once
warrior, poet, and philosopher; one whom you could imagine

"57

standing over serpents and monsters.

55

These projections were as real to Carlyle and
Nietzsche as initiatory identification with the tribal
hero was to primitive man. The obvious difference is
that Carlyle and Nietzsche were speculating on a potential,
vicarious fulfillment, whereas the primitive initiate was
actually fulfilled in his identity as tribal hero.

Another difference is the earth-bound setting of Carlyle's
and Nietzsche's hero, whereas the tribal hero or here of
myth was a link between the earth and the transcendent
place that existed before the Fall. Nevertheless, the
Carlylean and Nietzschean hero is really just as utopian

a concept in its direct expression of the total realization
of a human potential transcending the present condition.
Only the setting and language are different. Instead of
linking man with heaven, or of insuring his immortality

by integrating him into the microcosmic society he
personifies, or of giving him ontological and eschato-
logical insight, this hero implements their hope for the
realization of human potential by determining and thereby
justifying history. Other than this, neither Carlyle nor
Nietzsche saw an ultimate goal, a higher destination for
man.58

Thus for Nietzsche and Carlyle, the hero as de-
terminer of human history is the fulfilled hero - quite
in keeping with the mythical hero's role as King. But

aspects of heroic completeness vary, as mentioned. Other,

 

56

more intense levels of experience substantiate this motif
even more convincingly.

The ultimate goal of mysticism and alchemy, for
instance, reveals the same conception of fulfillment as
connoted by the hero-king of the Pattern. The entire myth
of the hero actually reveals allegorically the soul-
purifying process of mysticism and of alchemy (which is
its own form of mysticism) as well.59 Above comments
have shown that political and historical heroes accumu-
late human projections which betray a hope for some sort
of objective redemption, be it from historical whim,
economic tyranny or societal oppression. But whereas
the "redemption" offered by these heroes remains objec-
tive, the redemption offered by the hero of myth - in
his symbolic role in the mystical process of alchemy,
for instance - is wholly subjective: "It is not outside,
it is inside: wholly within," wrote Mister Eckhart.6O
He attains an inner freedom which he then tries to impart
to his people. In terms of mysticism and alchemy, it is
freedom from earthly desire, the ultimate goal of spir-
itual man. Man has trod many paths down through the
ages to fulfill his wants; along the way he has moved
from magic through religion to science.61 But the goal
of mysticism is much more sublime than the fulfillment of

mundane wants - it is the freedom from wanting. The less

need a man has of magic, religion and science, the freer

 

57

he is in the mystic sense.62 This freedom is what the
true alohemists were trying to achieve before their
spiritual symbols were objectified in the laboratory and
transformed into the practical foundations of chemistry.
The hero-king personified and symbolized this goal for
the alchemists. It was the sole object of his journey.
After he reached it, he no longer had to engage in
spectacular deeds. The sound of his name diminished, and
little was heard of him thereafter.

But the objection arises, why does the hero descend
to the underworld, if he has indeed realized his destiny?
The imagery of the motif is quite spectacular in itself,
standing in seeming contradiction to the entire discus-
sion above. But the resolution of the objection lies,
symbolically, in the image of the constant renewal of
nature. The image reflects man's constant need for
spiritual renewal, and evidence indicates that the descent
can be understood in this sense. Full realization of
the heroic destiny does not preclude a fall back into

63

spiritual imperfection. Such a regression carries with
it the obligation to renew the lost spiritual state, and
so the hero must re-exhibit his ability to return to the
transcendent place again and again. One evidence of such
ability is incorporated in the mastery of fire. Both

primitive mysticism and Christian mysticism speak of the

need for the spirit or soul to be purified by fire before

58

it can experience the primordial time before time when
man was not separate from God. Also evident in the
Shamanism of archaic societies, mastery of fire (walking
on coals, swallowing coals, etc., are variations on this)
seems to be a universal requirement for spiritual renewal.
Again, the idea in both traditions is one with which the
reader is familiar by new: man must enter a transcendent
place, i.e., transcend the human condition. The best
evidence of having attained the desired state is the
ability to walk through fire with impunity. To primitives,
the main characteristics of spirits was their "incombus-
tibility." This idea is alive in the Christian tradition
as a sign of the Spiritual nature of the unio mystica:

the age-old yearning for a return to Paradise and union
with God.6u Similarly, mythological systems which tell
of the periodic destruction and re-creation of the world
give cosmic expression to the yearning that motivates the

65

hero's descent. Whatever proportions the allegorical
expression of this yearning might take, and however it
may be interpreted and analysed, the essential point is
that, like nature's annual renewal, so the spirit, or
soul, or psyche of man must be periodically rejuvenated.
Here this means that the hero will have to descend to
the underworld and do battle with the forces of chaos

again and again. When he is successful, the renewal - now

in terms of depth-psychology - manifests in a

59

personification of the unconscious as a woman, rather than
a dragon, and he repeats the process discussed above in
the motif of the adventure. As a result, the "shadow
side of the personality," i.e., the previous spiritual
imbalance, "takes on a less menacing form."66

As a reader knows, the aspect of the underworld
varies from myth to myth. But whatever the imagery,
whether a place of fire, a treasure hoardguarded by
dragons, a place of darkness or a place inhabited by shades
of men, to return from it is to unlock the door to spir-
itual renewal. And the hero has the key. Sometimes,
though, the hero refuses to return from the underworld.
This can be symbolic of a real-life individual, as well.
An individual who becomes obsessed with the superficial
and transitory goals of the world of secondary appearances,
is like the hero who becomes entangled in what he thinks
are his own best interests. He forgets that the values
perceived by him in his present form are - like his form
itself - of the passing moment only. To paraphrase
Campbell, he forgets that the god within him represents
the life force in and around about him. He sees only that
the withdrawal of this god will paradoxically and in-
evitably mean his own demise. The god then becomes a
monster in his mind from whom he tries to hide. The
result is a living hell, for the hero is a god, and god

67

is the hero. It is impossible to hide from one's self.

60

In this case, the hero has descended to the underworld, but
is unwilling to return. Only the one who goes down and
returns to the world of men can be said to have fulfilled

the heroic destiny.

Motif G. The hero's death is miraculous and occurs
amidst extraordinary circumstances.
1. He loses his throne suddenly and mysteriously,
without really suffering a defeat.
2. He dies yonng.
3,, His death has been prophesied to him.
A. He defies his death.
5. He often dies on a hilltgp.
6. His body is not buried nor is it ever found,
but he does have one or more sacred shrines.
This motif by no means brings the pattern of the
hero's life to an end; it brings it rather full circle.
Here death recycles the main"adventure," which is really
itself his whole life, as mentioned above. As such, it
parallels all of the other motifs in every respect but
one: it goes beyond the rest (except for the preceding
one, which has been seen to reflect this idea somewhat,
although to a far lesser degree than this motif) in its
connotation of endless repetition. This is its uni-
versality. The perception of life and the human condition

as an ever-recurring cycle of generation, death and

 

61

rebirth reveals itself to us in primitive as well as more
sophisticated initiation rites. The cyclic Pattern of
the rites re-enforced the hope that death was a "rite of
passage" which ended in the creation of something. The
"creation" could be conceived of as knowledge gained in
the passage, thus making death a symbol of wisdom; only
through a death-symbolism did primitive man realize a
spiritual renewal, as revealed by the many and complex
stages of his initiation rites.68

This explains the apparently acausal loss of the
throne in the myth of the hero. Since ancient religious
evidence testifies both to the belief that ritual repe-
tition of the hero's death maintains and renews the
wisdom the hero won through the original death, and to
the initiate's having undergone the agony willingly at a
definite point in his life as the only way to rebirth,
then it is obvious that the hero-initiate really suffers
no defeat at all. He really enjoys a spiritual victory
in death. The myth shows the hero continually losing his
throne in order to perpetuate this victory in the eternal.
cycle of the Pattern.

His early death symbolically re—enforces this
belief, for vital, life-affirming youth usually stands
farthest from a concept of death understood only as the

end of all things.

()2

To conquer death this way is to fulfill the heroic
destiny. Those who are destined are usually aware of
their destiny. The hero of myth is no exception. Since
he realizes his destiny by acquiring the wisdom symbol-
ized in his death, he knows that he must die. The very
cyclic succession of the Pattern informs us that proph—
ecies of this sort will be known. All of this has been
undergone before and will be undergone again. It follows,
then, that the wisdom and knowledge of previous cycles
lends prophetic insight into coming cycles, and that
the Pattern has come full circle.

Out of the connected circuit of the closed circle
flows the full current of meaning, comprehensible now
that the total Pattern is in view. The cyclic succession
of the Pattern shows forth as the end and beginning of
all things. This is the knowledge the hero has acquired.
It is a perception of men and events that transcends time
and space, and one which the hero must continually re-
focus by repeatedly confronting chaos, for here is where
true wisdom lies. As Micea Eliade writes:

One goes down into the belly of a giant or a monster
in order to learn science or wisdom . . . But, if
entering into the belly of a monster is equivalent

to a descent into Hell, into darkness among the dead -
that is, if it symbolizes a regression to Cosmic

Night as well as into the darkness of 'madness' where
all personality is dissolved - and if we take account
of all these homologies and correspondences between

Death, Cosmic Night, Chaos, madness as regression to
an embryonic condition, etc., then we can see why

63

death also symbolizes Wisdom, why the dead are
omniscient and know the future, and why the.
visionaries and poets seek inspiration among the
tombs.69

The Greeks were aware of the hero's intimate rela-
tionship with death and its significance. Kerenyi points
out, for instance, that Dionysis and Hades are different r-
aspects of one and the same concept. In these two images,
the concept reveals itself symbolically as opposites.
First, the dead hero is presented as Dionysis, King of

the Underworld. He suffers and dies in this role,

 

whereupon he reveals his opposite nature and dispenses
happiness to his people. Herein lies the essence of the
prophesy, for the hero, Kerenyi continues, like the god-
man Dionysis, is not born in death, but 32 death so that
his life will continue to have an effect on men after he
dies.70

Man perceives this effect mirrored in the symbolism
of the death and rebirth of the here. In the conceivable
image of the hero's defiance in the face of death, man
can see his own destiny reflected. The defiance supports
man's hope that the coincidence of opposites — in the
figure of Dionysis, for example - really does represent
a beginning in death. The hero's resistance here is
his saying that he ". . . is the champion not of things

become but of things becoming; the dragon to be slain by

him is precisely the monster of the status quo: Holdfast,

61}

the keeper of the past."71 It is obvious that the motif
could support other interpretations, as well, from the
psychoanalytical to the theological. And underlying all
of them might be defiance as an ontologically meaningful
experience. Mircea Eliade, for instance, envisions the

constant reliving of death and resurrection as "the be-

 

ginning of immortality," i.e., as an anticipation and
preparation for immortality as a situation in which one

participates "from now on outward and from this present

"72

 

world. For ages the hero's defiance of death has é.
instilled men with such a hope by opening to them the
symbolic path to renewal.

The hero as god and the god as hero: man's pro-
jection reaches the heights in the myth, and the hero's
death on a hilltop objectively implements the mental
projection; it certainly visualizes the starting point
to the transcendent place. The hill points the hero in
that direction and thereby implies a joining of the human
and the divine, just as the figure of Dionysis implies
'such a coinciding at the opposite end of the universe.
The joining of opposites at diametrically opposed places
only re-enforces the significance of the symbolism which
is the conception of totality. It has twice the impact
on the human conscious. The inseparability of the two is

incorporated in the inseparability of the myth from the

rite: the hero is the god in myth, and the god is the

()5
73

here in ritual passage. The hero's death on a height

provides his followers with a symbolic ladder of ascension
to the "new" creation above profane, earthly existence
(Jacob's Ladder, The Cross, The Cosmic Tree, The Axis Mundi,
etc., are several variations among a great number of such
symbols).

That such sacred meaning is attached to the hero's
death in a place which connotes transcendence precludes
his body ever being found. Such a discovery would
completely invalidate the preceding discussion. There is
nothing at all divine about a corpse. It seems almost a
paradox, then that it is the hero in the underworld
amidst the dead who makes the most awe-inspiring impres-
sion. But it is not really a paradox. As discussed
above, it is a coincidence of opposites which underscores
the meaning of the cyclic Pattern of the whole myth. It
shows the here at the beginning and end of all things.
Here is where the hero performs his most difficult and
most meaningful deeds. Here is where the entire heroic
Pattern takes place, for the hero stands at the beginning
and end at all points in his life. To this idea the
hero-cult paid tribute, not in exaltation, but in

7h

imitation of the hero's life. For the Greeks, the here
was inseparable from his cult. We have seen that this is

true in the myths of other races, as well, especially

where the initiate assumes the identity of the tribal

66

hero. Any difference would be a difference in degree,
and not form, i.e., the intensity of the imitation
probably varied from cult to cult.

We have seen in our final view of the total Pattern
that the hero's significance is a humanizing one, con-
taining ideals which are possible to emulate on this
side of life. His cult testifies to the primary signi-
ficance of the hero as a knower of death and witnesses to
this by recalling in the symbolic images of his life
Pattern what he learns in the face of death. His con-
frontation with and victory over death stand perpetuated
in the shrines erected to his memory, and the final, human
import of the myth of the hero lies in the tradition of

75

stories which have arisen from the cult of the hero.

 

CHAPTER III

THE MYTH OF THE HERO IN E. T. A. HOFFMANN

The spiritual adventure of our time is the exposure of
human consciousness to the undefined and the indefinable.
C. G. Jung.

I. The Hero and The Christian Adventure of Evil and

 

Spiritual Renewal: Die Elixiere des Teufels.

A. The Birth Motifs.

The prediction of Medardus' birth is an expression
of hope and faith that his family will be released from
the long-standing curse cast upon it. Medardus is the
last in a line of sons from Camillo, Ffirst von P. Fran-
cesko I is Camillo's son and Medardus' great-grandfather.
The reader first sees this Francesko as the Old Painter
who appears throughout the novel in the role of Medardus'
primary spiritual helper. Later it is learned that as a
youth he perpetrated grievous crimes, sinking his progeny
into a mire of murder and incest which has cursed the
line right down to the time of Medardus' birth. The
mission of the hero of myth appears already in the sug-
gestion of Medardus' liberating role, for his birth,
foretold to his father in a vision, is to free the family
from the curse and insure Christian forgiveness for

67

68

their sins. Told to proceed to the sacred Holy Linden

monastery in East Prussia, Medardus' father knows the

prophecy is true when, on the way, Medardus' mother

realizes that she is pregnant:

Auf der beschwerlichen Wanderung dahin ffihlte meine
Mutter nach mehreren Jahren der Ehe zum erstenmal,

daB diese nicht unfruchtbar bleiben wfirde, wie mein
Vater befflrchtet, und seiner Dflrftigkeit‘unerachtet
war er hocherfreut, weil nun eine Vision in Erffillung
gehen sollte, in welcher ihm der heilige Bernardus
Trost und Vergebung der Sfinde durch die Geburt eines
Sohnes zugesichert hatte . . . er starb entsfindigt

und getrBstet in demselben Augenblick, als ich geboren
wurde.1

 

 

The cyclic Pattern of the family's history points

 

to the inevitability of Medardus' birth. His existence

is an existence in sin, just as his ancestor's was.
Later, Medardus becomes aware of the Pattern his life is

following and finally realizes that his destiny has re-

quired the entanglement with sin. He
burden of his family's curse in order
from it through his death. His death

piation, a true, heroic mission. The

appears at the beginning of Medardus'

destiny in a statement to his mother.

had to assume the
to release them
is a death of ex—
Old Pilgrim who
life sums up his

The statement

foreshadows the hero's struggle with dualism, with the

clash of opposites:

Euer Sohn ist mit vielen Gaben herrlich ausgestattet,
aber die Sfinde des Vaters kocht und gart in seinem
Blute, er kann jedoch sich zum wackern KAmpen fflr den
Glauben aufschwingen, lasset ihn geistlich werden!
(21, II, 7)

69

That this potential was indeed predictable, that it had
to happen, that Medardus' life is heroically 'correct'
in terms of the Pattern, all of these references to the
Pattern of the myth are upheld by the Old Painter, the
first Francesko. His continued appearance throughout
the story is like a musical leitmotif, constantly re- "
minding of the original crime and implying that Medardus, i
too, must undergo the cycle before deliverance can be

final. Thus the weight of destiny attaches to the pre-

 

diction of Medardus' birth, and the entire Pattern of t
the myth of the hero is implied.2
One of the Old Painter's first appearances takes
place after the adult Medardus has become a Capuchin Monk.
Preaching for the first time in St. Anthony's Day,
Medardus' egotistic arrogance and puffed-up pride in his
eloquence engenders the Old Painter's scorn and hate,
for he sees in Medardus the beginning descent into the
same sin from which he knows Medardus must release him.
But then images of the Holy Linden from Medardus' child-
hood suspend the chronology of the immediate moment to
reveal an instant of hierophanic time, a concept of time
which implies the transcendent goal of the hero's mission.3
Hierophanic time suggests that all points of time are.
capable of revealing the absolute. For Medardus, the

absolute is symbolized by the Holy Linden, and the Old

Painter evokes, through his presence, the sacred image:

7O

". . . Die ganze Gestalt hatte etwas Furchtbares -
Entsetzliches! Ja! - es war der unbekannte Maler aus
der heiligen Linde." (33, II, 29-30)

The Holy Linden symbolizes the Cosmic Tree, the
center of the earth. The conception of time invoked by

this scene is a fifth dimensional,all-in-the-present, P-

VII-

time. The appearance of the Holy Linden, connecting &
heaven and earth, at this chronologically later time re-

flects the archetypal urge to live in eternity; the hero

 

sees through profane time for an instant to his own é
timeless symbol of the absolute.

The Old Painter's role here is really that of
conjuror: he reminds Medardus of his source, which is
incorporated in the sacred symbol of the Holy Linden.

Seen this way, the Old Painter's intermittent appearances,
of growing and ultimate significance to Medardus right to
the end of his life, serve as a continual reinforcement
of the interpretation that Medardus is acting out a
destiny. The destiny is, like the Pattern of the myth,
cyclic in form; the birth is thus inevitable and pre-
dictable.

Medardus' reaction to the Old Painter's presence on
that St. Anthony's Day reveals the irresistable motion
towards his destiny. It is not just the Old Painter's
deathly pale face and piercing gaze that transfix him,

but more the merciless penetration of his eyes to the

71

quick of his soul. The Old Painter knows the hateful
force which must be extirpated from Medardus' soul before
the destiny can be fulfilled. Medardus subconsciously
perceives this knowledge in his ancestor's unmoving gaze:

Sein Gesicht war leichenblaB, aber der Blick der

groBen schwarzen, stieren Augen fuhr wie ein

gluhender Dolchstich durch meine Brust. Mich

durchbebte ein unheimliches grauenhaftes Geffihl,

schnell wandte ich mein Auge ab und sprach, alle

meine Kraft zusammennehmend, weiter. Aber wie

von einer fremden zauberischen Gewalt getrieben,

muBte ich immer wieder hinschauen, und immer starr und

bewegungslos stand der Mann da, den gespenstischen

Blick auf mich gerichtet. So wie bittrer Hohn -

verachtender Hap lag es auf der hohen gefurchten

Stirn, in dem herabgezogenen Munde. (2!, II, 29)

Later, when Medardus is masquerading as a private

person on a pleasure-trip in the busy industrial city,
both the appearance of the Old Painter's exhibition show-
ing scenes from Medardus' life at the Holy Linden, and
the presence of the Old Painter himself at the Stammtisch
to which Medardus had been invited, allude to the Old
Painter's knowledge of the higher powers which are at
conflict in Medardus' soul from the very beginning of his
life. The Painter's portrait of the young Aurelie, done
at the Baron F.'s while Medardus was there posing as
Viktorin in the guise of - himself (more on this below),
has deeply affected all present. They comment on how
closely it resembles a Saint's portrait. The Painter's

description and interpretation of the portrait reveal his

foreknowledge of the course of Medardus' life, and so

72
establishes the connection of the scene to the birth
motifs. The Old Painter knows what development the re-
lationship between Medardus and Aurelie is going to take.
The likeness of his portrait of her to the Saint Rosalia
proves this. The connection of this knowledge to the
course of Medardus' life is apparent to the reader who
remembers Aurelie's murder by Viktorin at the very moment
of her initiation into the convent. The Old Painter's
knowledge of the future establishes him in the role of
helper and guide in terms of the myth; it implies his
foreknowledge of Medardus' birth and its significance as
a hope for forgiveness and salvation - the Christian
expression of the spiritual liberation implicit in the
life of the hero; and it surrounds the birth with a
supernatural aura, an important aspect of the birth
motifs, as discussed in the previous chapter. Replying
to Medardus' comment that the portrait would comply
exactly with his conception of the holy St. Rosalia - a
comment that itself foreshadows and anticipates and adds
the momentum of inevitability to the conclusion and thus
to all of Medardus' life - the Old Painter says:
In der Tat ist jenes Frauenzimmer, die das Portrét
getreulich darstellt, eine fromme Heilige, die im
Kampfe sich zum Himmlischen erhebt. Ich habe sie
gemalt, als sie, vom dem entsetzlichsten Jammer er-
griffen, doch in der Religion Trost und vom dem
ewigen Verhflngnis, das uber den Wolken thront, Hilfe
hoffte; und den Ausdruck dieser Hoffnung, die nur in
dem Gemflt wohnen kann, das sich fiber das Irdische hoch

erhebt, habe ich dem Bilde zu geben gesucht.
(pw, II, 100)

 

73

At the end of the novel, Aurelie dies with just this
sublime, martyred expression on her face. Her last words
reveal that her similarity to the St. Rosalia in the por-
trait and in Medardus' mind was an intimation of her

destiny; they reveal that her fate and Medardus' were

 

inextricably intertwined and disposed by higher powers;
that evil forces hid the meaning of the higher powers
from Medardus and Aurelie, causing them to interpret their

mutual love in earthly terms. The sacred manifesting I

 

itself in the profane is the central problem of all “
religion,“ and here on this highly personalized level it
torments Medardus with unbearable lust until he is finally
able to perceive the sacred symbol of the Saint in the
earthly form of the girl Aurelie. This is Aurelie's
problem, too: her love for Medardus is a hierophany,
but she must struggle to see the sacred nature of her
love beyond the profanity of her earthly desire, where
fulfillment is incest:
Ein besonderer RatschluB des Ewigen hatte uns bestimmt,
schwere Verbrechen unseres freveligen Stammes zu
sfihnen, und so vereinigte uns das Band der Liebe,
die nur fiber den Sternen thront und die nichts gemein
hat mit irdischer Lust. Aber dem listigen Feind
gelang es, die tiefe Bedeutung unserer Liebe uns zu
verhfillen, ja uns auf entsetzliche Weise zu verlocken,
daB wir das Himmlische nur deuten konnten auf irdische
Weise. (g1, II, 312)
But these evil forces were working at the disposal

of the higher powers of good, incongruously plunging

.Aurelie and Medardus into horrible quagmires of incest

74
and murder as eXpiation for the family's crimes. The
threads are finally woven together at Aurelie's death,
rendering the prediction of Medardus' birth at the begin-
ning of the story a reflection of the beginning of the
universal Pattern, and endowing it with the heroic po-
tential to transcend human guilt. Breaking through
the cause and effect nexus to a point where guilt and
innocence lose their opposing meanings is the hero's goal
in the Christian setting. The cyclic path he takes
again and again to accomplish such spiritual renewal comes
together in this novel in the appearance once again of
the Old Painter at the time of Aurelie's martyrdom. Just
as his presence before and during Medardus' birth and
childhood at the Holy Linden pointed ahead to the hero's
destiny, so his appearance now coincides with the real-
ization and fulfillment of the destiny. The story is

brought full circle. The family is free of the curse:

 

 

 

Eine starke Stimme sprache neben mir: 'Sancta Rosalia,
ora pro nobis', und alle, die noch in der Kirche
geblieben, riefen laut: 'Ein Mirakel - ein Mirakel,

ja sie ist eine Mdrtyrin. Sancta Rosalia,pora pro
nobis.‘ Ich schaute auf. Der alte Maler stand neben

mir . . . ernst und mild . . . Kein irdischer Schmerz
fiber Aureliens Tod, kein Entsetzen fiber die Erscheinung
des Malers konnte mich fassen, denn in meiner Seele
dfimmerte es auf, wie nun die rAtselhaften Schlingen,
die die dunkle Macht geknfipft, sich lfisten. (2!,

II, 310)

The prediction of Medardus' birth as motif of the
myth of the hero includes the other motifs of this part

of the Pattern as well. Medardus' mother, for instance,

 

 

 

 

75

is the daughter of a Landsmann, suggesting close ties to
the earth and implying the Tellus Mater conception of the
source of children, discussed above. She represents the
purifying power of love, for she carries the means of
Francesko's (Medardus' father's) penitence in her womb.

The knowledge of Medardus' impending birth and its signal

 

of deliven/fbr Francesko came to him in a vision of St.
Bernard, instilling a more than common significance in

the figure of his mother. Medardus is the first and only

 

'F'Ju‘ill a
U1

child of the marriage. These implications of the virgin
birth together with the clear play of transcendent powers
evident in all of the passages quoted so far, recall
Campbell's words about the virgin birth being the "In-
visible-Unknown" putting on an earthly disguise (See

above p. 27). As pointed out above, Medardus was born

to release his father and the family from the cycle of
crime which has degenerated it. And his birth was decreed
by higher powers: "Ein besonderer RatschluB des Ewigen

. . ." The outcome is inevitable, even though Medardus'
confined vision blinds him for a time to the real meaning
of machinations. In this context, his mother is definitely
the "Invisible-Unknown" putting on an earthly disguise in
order to facilitate the will of the Absolute. In the
short passage devoted to Medardus' mother it is very clear

that Hoffmann conceives of her as an agent of the power

which lifts the guilt-ridden Francesko out of himself

76

through the birth of Medardus:
Von Gram und Krankheit gebeugt, kam er (Francesko)
auf der Flucht zu einem Landmann, der ihn freundlich
aufnahm. Des Landmanns Tochter, eine fromme, stille
Jungfrau, faBte wunderbare Liebe zu dem fremden und
pflegte ihn sorglich. So geschah es da, als
Francesko genesen, er der Jungfrau Liebe erwiderte,
und sie wurden durch das heilige Sakrament der Ehe
vereinigt. . . Endlich sandte ihm der Himmel einen
Strahl des Trostes. -Er soll pilgern nach der heiligen
Linde, und dort wird ihm die Geburt eines Sohnes die
Gnade des Herrn verkfinden. (2E, II, 267)

Hoffmann had the Old Painter write the above passage,
and the entire account of the family history, on an old
parchment in which the editor (Hoffmann) found Medardus'
manuscript. The Old Painter has been given permission by
the "ewige Macht des Himmels" to accompany Medardus to his
destiny. His narrative describes the miraculous birth and
its circumstances and points to Medardus' latent heroic
potential. This child is clearly set apart from the
common human lot. The promise of a new beginning stands
out against the death of the old: Francesko, Medardus'
father, dies on the day of his birth. The serenity of
the birth-place, the Holy Linden, and the play of tran-
scendental powers narrated and described by "The Messenger
of Celestial Peace," the Old Painter, all point to the
birth place itself as the goal of Medardus's life.5 When
the reader remembers that the Holy Linden is a perfectly
legitimate representation of the Cosmic Tree, then he

sees the miraculous birth, the hero's goal and the entire

cyclic pattern of the myth all implicit in the Old

 

I'V" . I

 

 

 

77

Painter's account of the birth of Medardus at the Holy
Linden Monastery:

In dem Walde, der das Kloster zur heiligen Linde
unschlieBt, trat ich zu der bedrfingten Mutter, als sie
fiber dem neugebornen vaterlosen Knfiblein weinte, und
erquickte sie mit Worten des Trostes.

Wunderbar geht die Gnade des Herrn auf dem
Kinde, das geboren wird in dem segensreichen Heiligtum
der Gebenedeiteh! Oftmals begibt es sich, daB das
Jesuskindlein sichtbarlich zu ihm tritt und frfih in
dem kindischen Gemfit den Funken der Liebe entzfindet. ;
(31, II, 267-68) ,

 

The figure of Medardus' father is another aspect

of the motif. First, he is of royal lineage. As mentioned,

 

Hoffmann describes a line which goes back to a noble
Italian family with Camille, Ffirst von P., as the pro-
genitor. Second, and more important, he believes himself
to be operating according to a higher principle which has
given him insight into the conditions and presuppositions
of life. This establishes a connection of the character
with a divine source of power, but there is a qualification
to be made here. Francesko believes himself to be in
control of this power, but in reality the power is con-
trolling him. He is merely acting out a role which he
has in no way created. Like the hero who is held fast

by ego, Francesko tries to use the unknown power within
him for egotistic purposes; he forgets that his form is
only one of many finite manifestations of the power, and
that its real meaning lies in conceiving of it as a whole.

’This is Medardus' challenge: to overcome the urge to

78

misuse the power implicit in the knowledge of the con-
ditions of life. When he places this knowledge, given to
him through the imaginative workings of the subconscious,
in the service of the ego-bound self, he allies himself
with what the Christian setting of Die Elixiere calls the
powers of evil. He then becomes like his father and his
ancestors, whose tradition of evil is the very tradition
Medardus must destroy. This tradition is Medardus' legacy.

It is the threatening force of the authority figure of

4*‘M'1'. ' .

 

the myth. If Medardus fails, the tradition will destroy
him. As the editor (Hoffmann) says in the Foreword:
. . . (es) war mir auch, als kfinne das, was wir
insegeheim Traum und Einbildung nennen, wohl die
symbolische Erkenntnis des geheimen Fadens sein, der
sich durch unser Leben zieht, es fest knfipfend in
allen seinen Bedingungen, als sei der aber ffir
verloren zu achten, der mit jener Erkenntnis die
Kraft gewonnen glaubt, jenen Faden gewaltsam zu
zerreiBen und es aufzunehmen mit der dunklen Macht,
die fiber uns gebietet. (2E, II, 3)
While Medardus thinks for a time that he is in con-
trol of higher powers, he is in fact only their tool.
The only way to peace of mind for him lies in recognizing
that fact. Free will plays its significant role here, for
it is only Medardus who can see the evil in his arrogance
and recognize the Good which is latent in his soul.
Whenever his will strengthens in this respect, the power
of Good begins to stir. His heroic task is to dispel the

darkness of his father's tradition of evil and illuminate

the essence of the more sublime power operating here.

79

Francesko, like his forefathers, was unable and unwilling

 

to do this. He was subjected to this power in its good
and evil connotations, but remained blind to its real
meaning, which goes beyond good and evil to an acceptance
of total self. The Old Painter, Francesko's grandfather,
represented the power for him, too; as he relates in his r
manuscript:

Mit krfiftigem Arm wollte ich den schwankenden Francesko

erfassen, wenn er sich dem Abgrunde nahte, der sich .

vor ihm aufgetan. Tfirichtes Beginnen des ohnméchtigen 3

Sfinders der noch nicht Gnade gefunden vor dem Throne E
des Herrn! (BE, II, 267)

 

The time has come for the new hero to confront the
old and evil tradition of "Holdfast" and to represent the
promise of liberation for the family. Medardus confronts
the problem of evil within himself. The abstract power
in its evil aspect is embodied in the Elixirs, and the
connecting symbol of the tradition of evil reveals itself
shockingly at the end of Part I, where Medardus realizes
that the knife with which he murdered Hermogen is the
same knife his father used to murder the Prince's brother.
At this point the inner conflict turns to a conscious
struggle upward as Medardus' will begins to assert itself:

Klar stand es vor meiner Seele, Francesko war mein
Vater, er hatte den Prinzen mit demselben Messer
ermordert, mit dem ich Hermogen tfitetel Ich beschloB,
in einigen Tagen nach Italien abzureisen und so endlich
aus dem Kreise zu treten, in den mich die bfise

feindlich Macht gebannt hatte. (2y, II, 162)

That Medardus' father, under the control of the

8O
'powers' spoken of here, has passed on to his son the
evil tradition which must be destroyed by him in order
to begin anew, is the best evidence for his place in the
composite Pattern. For Francesko has fathered a man who
in this special context works his way up to a projected
ideal, Hoffmann's in this case. This is one of many
statements of Medardus' heroism, for Francesko functions
according to the direction of a transcendental power when
he sires Medardus, but the spiritual traits passed on to
him remain unknown and unknowable.

Let us sum up, then, the evidence for the birth
motifs of the myth in Die Elixiere des Teufels. First,
the prediction of Medardus' birth expresses the all-
important liberating role the hero of the myth plays.
His birth brings expiation for his father and ultimately
for the whole family. In the sense that his life will
release the family from the curse of sin, his birth de—
fies the tradition of his fathers. Here, the tradition
of evil presents the immediate threat to the infant-hero;
its very real potential stands out sharply against the
holy surroundings of his birth. Hewett-Thayer calls the
novel a story of Christian meaning: sin and redemption
is the theme.6 The Christian helpers and guides are
present from the very beginning to warn against the de-
structive potential the sins of his fathers hold for

him; the Pilgrim, for instance, is Joseph. He appears

 

81

with the child Jesus, who points Medardus in the direction
of his destiny:
Er brachte einmal einen fremden wunderschfinen Knaben
mit . . . wir (saBen) im Grase, ich schenkte ihm
alle meine bunten Steine, und er wuBte damit allerlei
Figuren auf dem Erdboden zu ordnen, aber immer bildete
sich daraus zuletzt die Gestalt des Kreuzes.
(2)1. 11, 6) -
This Christian symbol of the Center of the Universe and of

Medardus' immovable center imprints itself indelibly on

his soul later, when the Abbess embraces him:

 

. . . es fand sich, daB das diamantne Kreuz, welches
die Ffirstin auf der Brust trug, mich, indem sie
heftig mich an sich drfickte, am Halse so stark
beschddigt hatte, daB die Stelle ganz rot und mit
Blut unterlaufen war. (2W, II, 8)

Finally, these indications of his heroic potential
are confirmed through their anticipation implicit in the
surroundings and circumstances of his birth. His mother
bears him in the Holy Linden, and keeps him for a time
in the Monastery there: the concealed-place motif. These
surroundings suggest a closeness to the earth, to a
utopian conception of the microcosm reflecting the serenity
of the universe; Medardus' description of the place
evokes this mood, and the yearning tone of his reminis-
cence casts the Holy Linden as the transcendent goal of
the hero's mission, implying spiritual rebirth and the
cyclic form of the Pattern:

Mit dem ersten BewuBtsein ddmmern in mir die lieblichen
Bilder von dem Kloster und von der herrlichen Kirche

in der heiligen Linde auf. Mich umrauscht noch der
dunkle Wald - mich umduften noch die fippig aufgekeimten

82
Graser, die bunten Blumen, die meine Wiege waren.
Kein giftiges Tier, kein schfidliches Insekt nistet
in dem Heiligtum der Gebenedeiten; nicht das Sumsen
einer Fliege, nicht das Zirpen des Heimchens unter-
bricht die heilige Stille, in der nur die fromme
Gesfinge der Priester erhallen . . . (2!, II, 5-6)

He is truly born at the place of the Cosmic Tree,
at the World Navel, at the Center of the Universe: "Noch
sehe ich mitten in der Kirche den mit silber fiberzogenen
Stamm der Linde, auf welche die Engel das wundertAtige
Bild der Heiligen Jungfrau niedersetzten." (2!, II, 6)
The reflection of the myth of the birth of the hero in the
life of Medardus is very clear. Let us follow the course

of the Pattern in his life and see how the heroic potential

is activated.

B. The Childhood.

The exposure motif is very apparent in the con-
ception of the Holy Linden, with its symbol of the £323,
mundi incorporated in the tranquil and completely integrated
scene described above. Here the reader sees Medardus
exposed to the lonely stillness of the universe at the
symbolic place of its center. The appearance of Joseph
and of the boy Jesus marks the hero's destiny to ascend
this image Which connects heaven and earth, or the sub-
conscious and the conscious. .When Jesus draws the cross
in the soil he points ahead to Medardus' later ascension
to the loftiness of spiritual regeneration and access to

the knowledge of and assimilation into the universe.

 

 

83

The helpful animals commonly represent the hero's
contact with the fundamental forces of nature. But so
do other figures (See Chapter I, n. 18). The Old Painter,
the Pilgrim (Joseph) and the boy Jesus all assume this
role for Medardus. Clearly, they are all trying to show

him the way to the source - especially the Old Painter,

 

who overtly and covertly assists Medardus throughout his
"adventure." The Painter's role reflects the image of

the monsters of the threshhold: just as their terrible

1'"

 

presence becomes less menacing and turns into an image of
help and assistance the moment the hero dares to go beyond
ego to contemplate his inner self, so the presence of
Medardus' ancestor turns from that of emissary of evil to
a guardian and helper the more Medardus is able and wil-
ling to acknowledge his total self. As long as Medardus
is under the control of evil, i.e., as long as he refuses
to take the responsibility for all aspects of his exis—
tence, he continues to interpret the figure of the Painter

7 It is

as an image of evil working for his destruction.
apparent, however, that Medardus does learn the secrets
of the source from these helper-figures. The real effect
of his contact with these "seed powers," with those who
sowed the seeds of regeneration in him, reveals itself
dramatically after his arrival at the Cisternian convent.

There the blood drawn by the Abbess's cross impresses on

him an external sign of the heroic potential activated by

8h
these helper-figures. His amazing display of religious
knowledge proves the inner validity of the external sign
of the cross and reveals the effect the presence of his
still unknown main spiritual helper, the Old Painter, has

had on him:

. . . ich (konnte), wie von einer hfiheren Macht
inspiriert, ihr (der Abtissin) die schbnen Bilder

des fremden unbekannten Malers so lebendig, als habe
ich sie im tiefsten Geiste aufgefafit, beschreiben.
Dabei ging ich ganz sin in die herrlichen Geschichten
der Heiligen, als sei ich mit allen Schriften der
Kirche schon bekannt und vertraut geworden. (2W,

II, 9)

Medardus' mother gives him over to the Abbess, who
raises him. In the religious atmosphere of the convent,
personified in the Abbess, Medardus remains close to the
source, revealed to him before at the Holy Linden. The
Abbess, as Medardus' foster-mother, joins the group of
helper-figures by exerting a holy and exalted effect on
him:

Welche Heiligkeit, welche Wfirde, welche fiberirdische
GrfiBe strahlte aus jedem Blick der herrlichen Frau,
leitete jede ihrer Bewegungen! Es war die

triumphierende Kirche selbst, die dem frommen glfiubigen

Volke Gnade und Segen verhieB. Ich hfitte mich vor
ihr in den Staub werfen mfigen, wenn ihr Blick
zuffillig auf mich fiel. (21, II, 12)

The symbolic proximity to the center of the universe

connoted by the religious atmosphere of the convent and
Inade audible by the choral, evokes in Medardus visions
of his first contact with the emissaries from the tran—

scendental place, and reconfirms the immovable center

 

 

irtm.’ :-

85

within:
Ich versank in das hinbrfitende Staunen der begeisterten
Andacht, die mich durch glfinzende Wolken in das ferne
bekannte, heimatliche Land trug, und in dem duftenden
Walde ertfinten die holden Engelsstimmen, und der
wunderbare Knabe trat wie aus holden Lilienbfischen
mir entgegen und frug mich lachelnd: 'Wo warst du
denn so lange, Franziskus? - Ich habe viele schfine
bunte Blumen, die will ich dir alle schenken, wenn
du bei mir bleibst und mich liebst immerdar. (21,
II, 12)

But Medardus has yet to undergo the horror of
venturing out beyond earthly ego in search of total self.
He must first know good and evil as it confronts him along
the path to the Kingship; eternal life as symbolized in z
the convent and the Abbess must be won through his own
efforts, and not passively accepted as "the gratuitous
gift of the sky god."9 Just as the hero of the myth
chooses to be like the gods, knowing good and evil, so
Medardus yields to the archetypal urge to know life in
every respect. His battle is then the battle for self:
He must acknowledge his involvement in the sins of his
fathers by turning inside - by accepting total responsi-
bility for life instead of projecting part of his self
onto other images.10 Thus Medardus' visions of the Holy
Linden soon dissipate in the colorful images of earthly
existence:

Hatte sich erst mein Innres, von heiliger Andacht
durchglfiht, ganz dem fiberirdischen zugewendet, so

trat jetzt das frohe Leben auf mich ein und umfing
mich mit seinen bunten Bildern. Allerlei lustige

 

 

86

Erzfihlungen,,SpABe und Schwfinke wechselten unter dem
lauten Geldchter der G5ste, wobei die Flaschen fleiBig
geleert wurden, bis der Abend hereinbrach und die
Wagen zur Heimfahrt bereitstanden. (2!, II, 12-13)
The motif of the obscure upbringing in the novel
implies, as in the myth, the hero's further contact with
the seed powers in preparation for the next step of the
Pattern, the "adventure." We first hear of Medardus again
many years later: ". . . Sechzehn Jahre war ich alt
geworden, als der Pfarrer erklfirte, daB ich nun vor—
bereitet genug sei, die hfiheren theologischen Studien
. . . zu beginnen . . ." (2W, II, 13) His transferral
from the convent to the Caphucin monastery as a novice
marks his readiness to begin the descent to the depths on
the long climb to spiritual renewal, here symbolized by
the Christian concept of salvation. Medardus will con-
front the horrors along the way to total self-knowledge
before he reaches the proper state of detachment. From
the priest's declaration above, we can assume that his
upbringing in the convent, of which we hear nothing at
all, has set in motion the drive to his spiritual goal.
In his new surroundings at the Monastery, Medardus'
goal lives in the person of Prior Leonardus, whose glowing
spirit embraces the total man and leads him to complete
realization and acceptance of self. In him burns a flame

of life fed by the most perfect combination of the bright'

spirit of antiquity and the dark mysticism of Christianity.

 

 

 

87
He will understand Medardus' coming trials and know how
to help him to the final goal. Leonardus is a mystic
whose religious awareness extends beyond Christianity to
the realms of rite and myth. He is the perfect repre-
sentative of the meaning of the Pattern of the hero of
myth; Hoffmann even implies that the old Prior knew and
understood the ancient, archetypal images of the myth of
the hero, sound evidence for the validity of this
interpretation:
. . . aber auch den Unglficklichen . . . hatte
Leonardus bald getrfistet; mit der Welt versfihnt . . .
hatte er, im Irdischen lebend, doch sich bald fiber das
Iridsche erhoben. Diese ungewfihnlichen Tendenzen des
Klosterlebens hatte Leonardus in Italien aufgefaBt,
wo der Kultus und mit ihm die ganze Ansicht des
religifisen Lebens heitrer ist als in dem katholischen
deutschland. So wie bei dem Bau der Kirchen noch
die antiken Formen sich erhielten, so scheint auch
ein Strahl aus jener heitern lebendigen Zeit des
Altertums in das mystische Dunkel des Christianism
gedrungen zu sein und es mit dem wunderbaren Glanze

erhellt zu haben, der sonst die GBtter und Helden
umstrahlte. (31, II, 16)

C. The Adventure.

Medardus' naiveté and severely limited existential
awareness at the beginning of his "adventure" out of the
Monastery into the world reveals itself at the time of
his monastic vows. It is the desire to purge himself of
erotic thoughts of the Concert Master's daughter, rather
than sincere religious devotion, that decides him to take

them. The maid of the myth cannot communicate with such

88

an impure soul, she has only the effect of the negative
anima (See Chapter II, n. 51). Trying to respond to the
Prior's inquiry about his celibacy, Medardus involuntarily
conjures up the erotic image in his mind's eye. The Prior's
ironic smile confirms the characterization of him above,
and his admonition to Medardus reveals his insight into
the hero's soul and anticipates the "adventure":

. . . der Herr bewahre Sie vor der Verffihrung der

Welt; die Genfisse, die sie Ihnen darbietet, sind von

kurzer Dauer, und mann kann wohl behaupten, daB ein

Fluch darauf ruhe, da in dem unbeschreiblichen Ekel,

in der vollkommenen Erschlaffung, in der Strumpfheit

ffir alles Hfihere, die sie hervorbringen, das bessere

geistige Prinzip des Menschen untergeht. (2!, II,

17-18)

The Prior's warning is a prophecy of Medardus' fate
and "adventure." It foreshadows his eventual submission
to fleshly pleasures and thereby places him on the un-
changeable course of the Pattern which ineluctably guides
the hero — first down to the depths of sin and death,
then up to the heights and existential awareness of
Leonardus, The Abbess and the Holy Linden.11 Medardus
takes the vows, rises rapidly in the esteem of the Prior
and his brothers and, five years later, is put in charge
of the relic room. Here he learns the legend of St.
Anthony and the Devil's Elixirs. Brother Cyrillus warns
him not to open the little box containing the bottle, and

therewith confronts Medardus with the taboo which, when

violated, triggers the "adventure."

89

Medardus locks the box in a cupboard and hides the
key, apparently putting it out of his mind. As he rises
in the esteem of the monks and the congregation through
his eloquence as chief preacher, he begins to lose his
peace of mind, implying that the taboo has already been
violated mentally, and that he has already begun the
fight with the evil within. He is aware of his apartness:
"Da keimte in mir der Gedanke auf, ich sei ein besonders
Erkorner des Himmels . . ." (2E, II, 27), but pride
blinds him to the transcendent meaning of his divine
nature: "Den Heiligen, den hoch fiber sie (die Brfider und
den Prior) erhabenen, sollten sie in mir erkennen, sich
niederwerfen in den Staub und die Ffirbitte erflehen vor
dem Throne Gottes." (2!, II, 28) Werner's statement of
Medardus' coming battle with himself, echos Campbell's
comment on the hero who forgets that his form is finite.
(See above, p.59 ): "Sfinde ist es, wenn der Mensch sich
zum Herrscher fiber sein Leben aufwirft und vergiflt, daB
er nur das Geschfipf einer hfiheren Macht ist."12

Medardus' overweening misinterpretation and misuse
of his call deludes him into construing the Prior's ad-
rnonitions as envy of his eloquence. On St. Anthony's Day
119 sees the Old Painter staring at him with hatred and
:acorn. The effect on Medardus is that of a microscopic
:flash of insight into one's inner being: the shock

‘triggered by the sudden but momentary awareness of

 

9O

incomprehensible instinctual images overwhelms the
subject.13 Medardus screams madly that he is St.
Anthony - and faints. The experience robs him of his
eloquence, and he is replaced as head preacher.

Now the violation of the taboo is objectified.
The key to the cupboard mysteriously appears in conjunction
with a strange visit to the relic room by two men who doubt
the probability of the legend behind the Elixirs.
Medardus opens the cupboard and drinks of them. In so
doing, he again breaks into an instant of hierophanic
time. By drinking of the Elixirs, he reenacts the rite
which is narrated and implied in the legend of St. Anthony.
The connection of this inviolable act in present time with ‘
the implied ritual in the legend of St. Anthony as told
to Medardus by Cyrillus (2!, II, 23-24), merges past and
present. It sets Medardus apart from other men, but
because the legend of St. Anthony gives his action a
holy aspect, it suggests that he is about to embark on a
timeless adventure from which others might benefit.ll‘t

St. Anthony, in Hoffmann's account in the novel,
was spiritually advanced enough to resist the temptation
of the Devil's Elixirs; he had already fought his battle
and was thus far beyond the first step away from ego that
the violation of such a taboo represents in the myth. But

Medardus' battle is just beginning. His eloquence returns

‘when he drinks of the Elixir, but it is accompanied by a

 

91

strange feeling of guilt. He begins to realize aspects
of his being which he could not see before. His experience
of the anima, his approach to the maiden of the myth,
shows him to be the novice that he is. He takes the
confession of a girl who resembles St. Rosalia. The girl,
Aurelie, confesses her love for Medardus. The combining
of the figure of the girl with the image of the Saint
anticipates the final release of the anima from Medardus'
lust to the elevated feminine ideal at the end of the
"adventure." Again, the total cyclic Pattern emerges at
all points in the story, just as it does in the myth. At
this immediate point, though, Medardus' violation of the
taboo invokes the initial horrors of the threshhold. Here
they take the form of his overwhelmingly lustful desire
for the girl, Aurelie, and his attendant mental anguish.
Her image is alive in his mind. He flaggelates himself
before the portrait of St. Rosalia, but curses his vows.
Medardus' anguish is clearly the anguish of the hero-
initiate between identities. He has rejected the identity
assigned to him by the Monastery, but he is far from the
goal of totality which lies at the end of the "adventure."
His ignorance of self appears in his perception of woman
as voluptuous flesh, as the negative anima:

Ich hatte das Gesicht der Unbekannten nicht gesehen,

und doch lebte sie in meinem Innern und blickte mich

an mit holdseligen dunkelbraunen Augen, in denen

Trfinen perlten, die wie mit verzehrender Glut in
meine Seele fielen und die Flamme entzfindeten, die

92

kein Gebet, keine Bupfibung mehr dfimpfte. Denn diese
unternahm ich, mich zfichtigend bis aufs Blut mit dem
Knotenstrick, um der ewigen Verdammnis zu entgehen,
die mir drohte, da oft jenes Feuer, das das fremde
Weib in mich geworfen, die sfindlichsten Begierden,
welche sonst mir'unbekannt geblieben, erregte, so
dafi ich mich nicht zu retten wuBte vor wollfistiger
Qual. (211. II. 39)

And he suffers the terrible desperation of self-
alienation, the first horrors on the path to totality:

Da lag ich stundenlang, wie von verderblichem Wahnsinn
befangen, niedergeworfen auf den Stufen des Altars und
stieB heulende entsetzliche Tfine der Verzweiflung aus,
daB die Mfinche sich entsetzten und scheu von mir
wichen. (23, II, 39)

The central adventure begins objectively with
Chapter II, "Der Eintritt in die Welt." Prior Leonardus,
understanding Medardus' spiritual problem and reconfirming
his own role as helper and guide, wisely assigns Medardus
a mission to execute for the Monastery in Rome. This is
the beginning of Medardus' journey in, when the challenges
of the central adventure of the myth rise up to confront
the hero. In his case, the challenge is the confrontation
with evil. The insight of the depth-psychologist best
illuminates the meaning implicit in the mythological
allusions here; Karin Cramer defines the evil as a mis-
understanding of self. It continues and is reinforced
so long as Medardus projects his guilt onto the figure of
his half-brother, Viktorin, who personifies Medardus'

15

subconscious. Medardus' battle to bring the irrational

manifestations of his subconscious, personified in the

93

insane Viktorin, under control is the hero's hazardous

journey to totality. Medardus' journey south triggers

the release of energies described in the Pattern. For

Medardus, the release of energies is the activation of

his will. The process is long and torturous, for

Medardus continues, first intensely, then intermittently -

to attribute his mistaken identity to a higher power.

He ignores his own free will in so doing. This is his

most powerful talisman, once he is willing to use it;

it represents the ability to assimilate his entire being.16
The first confrontation happens soon after Medardus

leaves the Monastery at the beginning of his journey.

He comes upon a man, apparently sleeping, who seems to

be about to slide off the edge of the rock and down into

the chasm, appropriately called Devil's Canyon. Medardus

startles the man, who we know is Viktorin, and he falls

to the bottom far below. Viktorin's valet appears

immediately, and mistakes Medardus for his master, who

he thinks has disguised himself as a monk. Medardus

goes along with the mistaken identity, and his "adventure"

with evil begins dramatically. He goes to Baron F.'s

castle, where Euphemie, the Baron's young and beautiful

wife, takes him for Viktorin in disguise. Medardus

confronts therewith the monster of unharnessed subcon-

scious, what the initiation rite interprets as the

psychological wrench of leaving one identity for another.

91+

Perceived as an irresistable urge, it compels Medardus
to disregard the truth of an inner voice which already
begins to articulate his real goal: to accept his total
self. Medardus Continues the deception:
Der innere unwiderstehliche Drang in mir, wie es
jenes Verhangnis zu wollen schien, die Rolle des
Grafen fortzuspielen, fiberwog jeden Zweifel und
fibertdubte die innere Stimme, welche mich des Mordes
und des frechen Frevels bezieh. (2E, II, #6)

Medardus becomes Euphemie's accomplice in evil and
soon surpasses her. The farther Medardus sinks into this
pool of deceit, lust and finally, murder, the farther he
removes himself from his own complete identity. There is
little chance at this point for mediation between con-
scious and unconscious reality, or for integration into
a societal group - the reader is reminded of the numerous
interpretive possibilities the myth offers. Medardus'
ego seems detached, floating in the ocean of his experiences.
Dissolution of superficial ego has begun, but the dragon
of the unknown might devour the hero - to his complete
loss of self. To Reinhold, the hero is Medardus; to
Euphemie, he is Viktorin: "Ich bin das, was ich scheine,
'und scheine das nicht, was ich bin, mir selbst ein
'unerklArlich Rfitsel, bin ich entzweit mit meinem Ich."
(_1_3_W_, II, 60)

The unharnessed forces of the subconscious rage out

of‘control. The storm jams mediation and communication

‘with.se1f and compounds the futility of Medardus' present

95

approach to his search for meaning. This is a modern
reflection of the changing approach of man's quest for
happiness as it evolved in the heroic epics, from
Gilgamesh to Homer's works. Overcoming the obstacles for
Gilgamesh and Hercules, for instance, meant overcoming
death in some way. But by the time of the Iliad and
Odyssey, the futility of continuing such a search appears
as absurdities in man's quest for meaning. The obstacles
now appear gratuitous and senseless, especially since
they reflect attempts to ". . . exhaust the possibilities
of the finite."17 At this point in the novel, Medardus'
quest directs itself towards this goal instead of the
greater goal of Gilgamesh and Hercules. So long as he
remains apart from himself - and thus the universe, his
quesh like Ulyssesg centers on the ultimately meaningless
finite forms. Viktorin and Euphemie are the two best
examples of this, and Medardus is plagued by thoughts of
insanity. But when his quest turns to a quest for total
meaning, meaning beyond the fulfillment of just earthly
wants, then the obstacles, in their implication of total
fulfillment, lose their grotesqueness. In Medardus'
case, Viktorin vanishes and the threat of insanity abates.
But at Baron F.'s, Medardus' quest is still blind
to the higher reality. The crimes he plans and perpe-
trates with Euphemie and finally by himself, and his un-

controllable lust for Aurelie are misguided attempts to

96

defend himself. His reaction is his desperate effort to
appease the monsters which have arisen to defend the
superficial ego with self-centered earthly pleasures.
The effort corresponds in its depravity to the terrible
symbols of the myth mentioned in Chapter II. Medardus
is not yet able to call on the existential forces within
him which could show him that the anguish he feels in
the growing doubt of his own identity, expressed above,
is really one of the first signs of an incipient journey
to totality and real meaning. The beginning dissolution,
here expressed in negative terms in an evil setting, is
really necessary if he is to overcome the limitations of
earth-bound ego. The superficial ego, defending itself,
leads him to misinterpret the potentially good signifi—
cance of what he has called "ein unerklfirlich Rfitsel."
Thus he persists for now in refusing to recognize Viktorin
as part of his own identity, and continues to wallow in
the evil of compliance in the demands of ego.18

The terror Medardus incites in his soul represents
its most gruesome image at the end of Chapter II. In a
fit of lust evoked through the religious eroticism of
their prayers together, Medardus seizes Aurelie in a pas-
sionate embrace. She screams and evades him. Hermogen,

lier brother, suddenly appears. His weird, crazed words

express the conflict of Medardus' soul in grotesque

97

images: "Ich wollte mit dir kampfen, aber ich habe kein
Schwert, und du bist der Mord, denn Blutstropfen quillen
aus deinen Augen und kleben in deinem Bartel" (2E, II,
73-7h)

This is a prelude to Medardus' full confrontation
with the horrors of the unintegrated hero. Still at
Baron F.'s, Medardus responds to a vision of Aurelie
beckoning to him with loving eyes. He goes to her room,
leaving Euphemie to die from the poisoned fruit and wine
she had intended for him. In Aurelie's room, Hermogen
walks in and attacks him from behind. In the struggle,
Medardus stabs and kills him with the knife he had meant
to use on Euphemie. At this point, Medardus sees himself
reflected in all the horror of the unknown depths of his
being. The experience of the non-ego surfaces in the
image of Viktorin's bloody corpse. This grotesque image
of his subconscious strikes him with terror, the terror
of the unknown and misunderstood. Medardus is still far
from mediating and communicating with this aspect of the
self. In fact, his ego is still able to delude him for
another instant into seeing this misconstrued symbol of
totality as a manifestation of his own power, given by
God. His pursuers stop short when he cries

. . . mit schrecklicher Stimme: 'Wahnwitzige, wollt
ihr das Verhangnis fahen, das die frevelnden Sfinder
gerichtet?‘ . . . Nicht fliehen wollt' ich mehr, ja

ihnen entgegenschreiten, die Rache Gottes an den
Frevlern in donnernden Worten verkfindend. (2!, II, 81)

98

But then he realizes with terror that it was not
he, not Medardus the monk who spoke these words: "Aber -
des grfiBlichen Anblicks! vor mir! vor mir stand Vik-
torins blutige Gestalt, nicht ich, er hatte die Worte
gesprochen. Das Entsetzen strdubte mein Haar, ich stfirzte
in wahnsinniger Angst heraus . . ." (2E, II, 81)

Medardus has now had his first full glimpse of the world
within, of a seemingly grotesque world beyond the ego's
setting in objective reality. Just as the myth of the
hero shows, the irrationality of the primordial images
of totality is almost too frightening to bear. To
Medardus, they appear grotesquely evil.

Medardus escapes from Baron F.'s. He meets Vik-
torin's valet in the forest, as though by plan. The aid,
still believing Medardus to be Viktorin, has a horse and
a change of clothes for him. Medardus disposes of the
habit, putting it in a hollow tree, and rides into a
large industrial city, beginning Chapter III, "Die
Abenteuer der Reise." He decidesto go into the city
and give himself over to his fate. He is now completely
over the threshhold and ready to do battle with the forces
within which stand in the way of his salvation. He will
sever all ties with the outside world - an essential
requirement of the hero's mission:

Die vornehmsten Mapregeln . . . schienen mir . . . alles

Auffallende aus meinem Aufiern zu verbannen und mir
irgendeinen Namen zu geben, mit dem ich ganz unbemerkt

99

in die Masse der Menschen eindrfingen kfinne. Das Leben
lag vor mir wie ein finstres, undurchschauliches
Verhflngnis, was konnte ich anders tun, als mich in
meiner Verbannung ganz den Wellen des Stromes
fiberlassen . . . (2!, II, 86)

The above passage is an expression of the hero's
isolation and apartness from the world as he uncovers
the secrets of life within his own being. Like all I
traditional heroes, Medardus embarks on a solitary journey

with no provisions or spare clothing, to engage in single

19

 

combat with another hero. Medardus' adversary is
himself, as has been pointed out several times. The
hero's urge to know the secrets he will uncover in his
victory over the adversary invokes a yearning for this -
as yet - dimly perceived goal. The maiden of the myth
personifies the goal. She is all there is to know.
Medardus has this yearning. It is inarticulate and
hardly understood, but it is very real and quite cor-
responds to the motif of the Pattern. Medardus is closer
to the truth of this image than to any other he has seen
up to this point:

Nur Aureliens holdes Bild lebte noch wie sonst in mir,

und ich konnte nicht an sie denken, ohne meine Brust

beengt, ja physisch einen nagenden Schmerz in meinem

Innern zu ffihlen. Doch war es mir, als mfisse ich sie

vielleicht in fernen Landen wiedersehen, ja als

mfisse sie, wie von unwiderstehlichem Drange hinge-

rissen, von unauflfislichen Banden an mich gekettet,
mein werden. (PE, II, 82)

In the city, Medardus meets one of the most impor-
tant helper—figures in the whole novel. The barber-

philOSOpher-fool Peter Schfinfeld - Belcampo belongs in

 

 

, [How [did
. FE ,,

 

 

100

the ranks of the other significant figures, Francesko
I, the Abbess and Prior Leonardus. He plays the fool's
role, revealing secrets to Medardus that would otherwise
remain hidden from view. His perception and empathetic
insight into Medardus shows through his droll humor and
idiosyncratic behavior. Even though his manner is almost.
farcical, his ironic, detached view of life contains
the distancing necessary for both an objective and sub-
jective view of self; a trait that is not lost on
Medardus:
Sehen Sie, mein Herr', sagte der Kleine, 'das sind
die Hauptingredienzien Ihres fiuflern Anstandes, und
wenn Sie es wfinschen, so will ich, Ihre Zfige, Ihre
Gestalt, Ihre Sinnesart beachtend, etwas Caracalla,
Abfilard und Boccaz zusammengieBen und so in der Glut,
Form und Gestalt bildend, den wunderbaren antik-
romantischen Bau Atherischer Locken und Lfickchen
beginnen.‘ Es lag so viel Wahres in der Bemerkung
des Kleinen, daB ich es ffir geraten hielt, ihm zu
gestehen, wie ich in der Tat geistlich gewesen und
schon die Tonsur erhalten, die ich jetzt soviel
mfiglich zu verstecken wfinsche. (3E, II, 90-91)
Medardus feels that a spiritual principle vitalizes
his new life, that his old life is over. This is yet
another sign of evolving forces within trying to come to
conscious awareness. He has assumed the identity of a
private person on a pleasure-trip, but the disguise only
intensifies his feeling of apartness from the objective
world, the significance of which was discussed above.

Even though his superficial self tries to ignore the

deeper aspects of his existence by concentrating on the

101

immediate condition, Medardus dimly perceives the other

reality in which he is suspended as he walks incognito

through the Cl ty:

Von niemanden gekannt zu sein, in niemandes Brust

die leiseste Ahnung vermuten zu kfinnen, wer ich sei,
welch ein wunderbares, merkwfirdiges spiel des Zufalls
mich hierher geworfen, ja was ich alles in mir selbst
verschliefle, so wohltatig es mir in meinem Verhfiltnis
sein muBte, hatte doch ffir mich etwas wahrhaft
Schauerhaftes, indem ich mir selbst dann vorkam wie
ein abgeschiener Geist, der noch auf Erden wandle,

da alles ihm sonst im Leben Befreundete lfingst
gestorben. (2!, II, 9h-95)

When Medardus hears from the friends at the

Stammtisch of the Old Painter's exhibition, he goes and

 

discovers the scenes from his childhood at the Holy
Linden. He sees the old Pilgrim and the Abbess in his
ancestor's pictures. Clearly, the Old Painter has re-
appeared to resume his role as helper and guide. He has
confronted Medardus with scenes from the innocent and
naive time of his childhood. This is the time before the
central "adventure" when the hero is least burdened by
the weight of the earth. It is the time most like the
released spiritual state effected by the central adventure,
'but before the hero is consciously aware of his destiny.
So the effect of Medardus' viewing these scenes implies
jyet another awakening of latent powers and feelings. It
'triggers the yearning experiences of an archetype as it
tnxres into the center of his being. Viewing his foster-

nuather, the Abbess, Medardus sees the archetypal image

 

102

and intuits the instinct it symbolizes:
Geffihle, die mir langst fremd geworden, durchstrfimten
meine Brust, eine unausprechliche Sehnsucht riB mich
fort, ich war wieder bei dem guten Pfarrer im Dorfe des
Zisterzienserklosters, ein muntrer, unbefangener,
froher Knabe, vor Lust jauchzend, weil der Bernardus
tag gekommen. (23, II, 96)

Then the portrait of Aurelie to which the Old
Painter leads him next fires another bolt of momentary
self-awareness, Aurelie still evokes lust, still has the.
impact of the negative anima, but it is nevertheless the
Old Painter's intent to show him the portrait of Aurelie,
not to titillate him, but rather to awaken in him yet
another weapon to use against the monster. For the
view of Aurelie reveals to him for a second’a sliver of
a beam of self—awareness: "Der Alte stellte mich sorglich
in das gehfirige Licht und zog dann schnell den Vorhang
weg. Es war Aurelie! Mich ergriff ein Entsetzen, das
ich kaum zu bekémpfen vermochte."

Medardus' "Entsetzen" is the reaction of horror at
seeing his total self reflected for only an instant, in
the knowing eyes of the girl's portrait, depicted by the
Old Painter, Medardus' great grandfather, with all-knowing
strokes of his brush. It is not his horror of renewed
lust. The word "aber" provides the contrast, which
proves that Medardus, after the first flash of insight,

immediately misinterprets his initial reaction of horror

as the work of the Devil; it is really his own misunderstood

 

103
self, sublimated and projected as lust and evil:
Aber ich erkannte die NAhe des Feindes, der mich in
die wogende Flut . . . gewaltsam hineindrfingen, mich
vernichten wollte, und mir kam der Mut wieder, mich
aufzulehnen gegen das Ungetfim, das in geheimnisvollen
Dunkel auf mich einstfirmte. (2!, II, 98)

At this point the Old Painter reminds Medardus
directly of the impure nature of his soul. First, he
interprets the portrait of Aurelie for what it will
ultimately mean to Medardus (we have already seen the
interpretation in another context). Aurelie becomes the
idealized, positive anima, the maid of the myth. In her
martyrdom as St. Rosalia, she reveals the knowledge of
the absolute through the connotation of archetypal yearn-
ing in the pain of earthly existence. Then, the Old
Painter confronts Medardus with the image of the battle:
he must fight and win before he can hope to understand
the meaning of the portrait. He asks the men at the
Stammtisch, "Haben Sie schon den Teufel gesehen, meine
Herren?" referring obviously to Medardus. It is true
that the threat which total self-knowledge poses to the
false security of existence in the world of senses appears
to Medardus as the Devil. But he does not know that the
personification rises out of him! He ironically perceives
the emissary of the spirit, the Old Painter, as the Devil.
He rejects his most significant helper and guide, and

shows that his struggle with self, which is his adventure,

is far from decided:

10h

Der fremde Maler war aufgestanden und durchbohrte

mich mit den stieren lebendigtoten Augen wie damals

in der Kapuzinerkirche. Er sprach kein Wort, er

schien starr und leblos, aber sein gespenstischer

Anblick straubte mein Haar, kalte Tropfen standen auf

der Stirn, und von Entsetzen gewaltig erfaBt, erbebten

alle Fibern. 'Hebe dich weg', schrie ich auBer mir,

'du bist selbst der Satan . . .' (2!, II, 102)

Medardus is forced to flee the tavern and the
members of the Stammtisch when the Painter identifies him
as the monk who murdered Hermogen at the Baron F.'s
castle. With the help of Belcampo, Medardus leaves the
city. He notices that his route has been exactly in the
direction of the mission assigned to him by Leonardus,
south, towards Rome. Waylaid by a terrific storm, he
stays a day and a half at a forester's house. This sojourn
deep in the forest releases the remaining existential
forces deep within his soul, and the central "adventure,"
objectified in the cyclic journey from the Monastery in
B. to Rome and back again, takes its symbolic upward turn
toward the light after he leaves the forest.
The turn is made when Medardus dies to himself.

The death of his limited identity in the world began when
he pushed Viktorin off the cliff. Later at Baron F.'s,
he alluded to his ego's death-struggle when he expressed
confusion about his conception of self - "ein unerklfirlich
Rfitsel." The final blow is struck here at the forester's.
Shocked by the sudden appearance of the crazed Viktorin

dressed in his own Capuchin habit,20 Medardus listens

 

105

apprehensively as the Forester relates the story of the
monk who claims to be Medardus. The incredulous Medardus
hears the latest experiences of his own life attributed
to a figure who confronts him in the guise of - himself!
In terms of the myth, the forester is another helper along
the way. In the figure of Viktorin he supplies Medardus
with the means to view an aspect of totality again in
order to dispel self delusions. But when Medardus hears
his own life outlined, his formidable adversary rages up
anew, preventing his seeing the tranquility behind the
terrible image of Viktorin. He feels encaged, dead to
the world and to himself; clearly, he is trapped in the
belly of the whale:

Aber ich selbst war herabgesunken zum elenden

Spielwerk der bfisen geheimnisvollen Macht, die mich

mit unauflfislichen Banden umstrickt hielt, so daB

ich, der ich frei zu sein glaubte, mich nur innerhalb

des KAfigs bewegte, in den ich rettungslos gesperrt

worden. (31, II, 123)

In a scene highly suggestive of ritualistic drama
in its almost mindless sequence of instinctive reactions,
Medardus re-enacts his own death to himself and to the
world. With a hunting party in the forest, Medardus
waits alone at an assigned post for a chance to shoot.
Shocked by the vision of Euphemie's hands, red with the
blood of Hermogen's wound, he cries out in terror. His

gun fires, and two birds fall dead at his feet. The

implications of the symbol are obvious. The forester's

 

filed at..l’€;'¢iu j
. . . .

106

story of Viktorin-Medardus and the bloody visions out of
his past have rubbed Medardus' sensitivity raw. His
alienation from himself - his death - surfaces and fo-
cuses dramatically in the image of the two dead birds,
felled by an involuntary shot. Neither Medardus, the
traveler, nor Viktorin-Medardus, the false monk, are
alive to the truth of their one identity. Both are
separate and apart - dead to each other, like the two
birds. The involuntary shot is the hero's inevitable
destruction of the finite manifestations of self in
anticipation of their mergence in an image of totality.
The inevitability suggested by the myth reveals itself
here in the direction in which Medardus was aiming the
gun - in exactly the Opposite, away from the birds! His
confusion signals his own inarticulate awareness of the
death to self:

. . . mein glficklicher SchuB in jener aufgeregten,

entsetzlichen Stimmung, den doch nur der Zufall

herbeigeffihrt, erffillte mich mit Grauen. Mit meinem

Selbst mehr als jemals entzweit, wurde ich mir selbst

zweideutig, und ein inneres Grausen umfing mein Wesen

mit zerstfirender Kraft. (2!, II, 12h)

Medardus' death of superficial ego is an agonizing,
desperate, inner dissolution. Just as the myth relates,
to challenge the guardians at the threshhold of the five
senses is to die a horrible death, it seems. But as the

courage and ability of the hero rises, the frightfulness

and danger of the monster-watchmen diminish. The hero

107
transcends the five - senses and therewith dies to the
world.21 There is no sudden transition, of course. The
progress Medardus makes towards this goal is one of slow
evolution, and any lines of demarcation between one
stage of development and another are always somewhat
arbitrary. But seen from the total perspective of the
novel's structure, it is safe to say that he is within
the other realm at this point, and that his journey out
begins with the fourth chapter, "Das Leben am ffirstlichen
Hof." For here at the Residence Medardus fights his most
significant battle and opens a clearer perspective of the
meaning of the feminine image.

Medardus has impressed the Prince with his erudition
and receives an invitation to play fare at the Residence.
The Prince's enthusiastic description of the psychic
stimulation of the game presents Medardus with the chance
to view the workings of his destiny from an ironic
distance:

'Das ist ein herrliches Spiel', fuhr er fort, 'in
seiner hohen Einfachheit das wahre Spiel ffir
geistreiche MAnner. Man tritt gleichsam aus sich
selbst heraus, oder besser, man stellt sich auf
einen Standpunkt, von dem man die sonderbaren
Verschlingungen und Verknfipfungen, die die geheime

Macht, welche wir Zufall nennen, mit unsichtbarem
Faden spinnt, zu erblicken imstande ist.‘ (2!, II

13h)
Medardus plays the game. True to the Prince's
description, he does see the dim outline of his destiny

in motion. And it is clear that it moves according to

108

his will, for he does not win until he plays on his own

 

and bets on the Queen. The queen's face is - Aurelie's.
His luck astounds the others as he continues to bet on
the queen, but his mind is not on the game itself. Play-
ing almost unconsciously, he thinks of Aurelie and thus
of the fulfillment she represents. The image begins to
clear as he intuits a relationship between his lucky

shot in the forest and his luck here at the gaming table:
"Auf wunderbare Art fand ich einen geheimen Zusammenhang
zwischem dem glficklichen SchuB aufs Geratewohl, ... . und
zwischen meinem heutigen Glflck." (2!, II, 139) This
perception, in conjunction with Aurelie's image, reveals
his feeling that a relationship exists between the two
situations is clearly evoked by her face in the card.

Her clarified image will ultimately mean fulfillment for
Medardus, a fulfillment which is total acceptance of

self and the universe. It is anticipated by Medardus'
death to himself in the forest, and by his luck at the
fare table in the imagined presence of Aurelie.

The paradox implied between Medardus' willing his
destiny, the third statement in the preceding paragraph,
and his seemingly blind luck at the tables resolves it-
self when the concept of will is understood in the special
context of Medardus' problem. R. Taylor's discussion of
free will in Die Elixiere points to the hero's task to

.know and integrate the forces of the underworld and to

109

use them to his advantage, expressed here in Christian
terms. He says,

All rests on his own inner conversion - on his

realization that his life has been that of a willing

agent in the service of the Devil, on his final

sincere and complete renunciation of evil, on his

own free and conscious choice of the true and the

divine.22
His luck in the forest and at the gaming table is really
the result of an incipient inner conversion. But his
continuing problem is that of a limited perspective. He
has free will, the will to see and accept totality, and
thus renounce evil, but he is unwilling to accept the
personal responsibility for the actions of his will; so
long as he sublimates his guilt in this way, he remains
in the service of the Devil.

Es wurde mir klar, daB nicht ich, sondern die fremde

Macht, die in mein Wesen getreten, alles das

Ungewbhnliche bewirke und ich nur das willenlose

Werkzeug sei, dessen sich jene Macht bediene zu

mir unbekannten Zwecken. (2!, II, 139)
He will not recognize the power of his will, and so he
separates himself from his actions by attributing their
cause to "die fremde Macht." His "blind luck" must then
be understood as the result of an inner volition which
he still fails to recognize and acknowledge. It is the
moving inertia of the hero's still invisible, immovable
center.

But Medardus' perspective is not absolutely limited.

As mentioned above, his stay at the Residence marks the

llO

beginning of his journey out. Even though he still mis-
interprets signs of totality as evil, and projects his
own responsibilities onto "die fremde Macht," he is,
nevertheless, beginning to feel a developing inner power.
This is the power of his will. Finally he begins to
acknowledge it, showing that he is on his way out and up
towards totality. Before, this was "ein unerklérlich
RAtsel"; now, it is an awareness of a deeper aspect of
being:

Die Erkenntnis dieses Zwiespalts, der mein Inneres

feindselig trennt, gab mir aber Trost, indem sie mir

das allméhliche Aufkeimen eigner Kraft, die, bald

stdrker und stdrker werdend, dem Feinde widerstehen

und ihn bekampfen werde, verkfindete. (2!, II, 139)

The enemy is, of course, himself. He has unknow-

ingly acknowledged this in the above passage. But even
though he is aware of the need to reconcile the schism
in his soul, he still misinterprets the very image of
this reconciliation, the image of Aurelie. He refuses
to look beyond the effect her physical appearance has on
him, and so the fight to free the maiden continues:

Das ewige Abspiegeln von Aureliens Bild konnte

nichts anderes sein als ein verruchtes Verlocken zum

bbsen Beginnen, und eben dieser frevelige MiBbrauch

des frommen lieben Bildes erffillte mich mit Grausen

und Abscheu. (31, II, 139)

Medardus' insight continues to deepen, though,

while he is at the Residence, where full knowledge of

his legacy comes from an unexpected source. From the

 

 

 

3. .. ,4.. . :14, L. f... .Ellfi‘
. \
I . .ll‘

 

 

lll

court physician, Medardus learns that his father long

ago seduced the bride of the Prince's brother and then
stabbed the brother to death. The murder weapon is the
same knife Medardus used to kill Hermogen, and the issue
of the seduction is Viktorin. The sister of the Prince's
wife, now the Abbess of the Cistercian Convent and
Medardus' foster-mother, was to be married to Francesko.
However, on the wedding-day, the Old Painter appeared and
silently confronted Francesko with his guilt. The
wedding did not take place. Francesko escaped and, as
the reader knows, married, traveled to the Holy Linden
and died as Medardus was being born.

Medardus now realizes that Francesko was his father,
and he feels the full burden of the sin that is his her-
itage. The nature of his mission is clear to him now; he
must distance himself from the circle of evil in which
he has been enclosed. To do this, he must probe more
deeply into his being. His subsequent incarceration
symbolizes this aspect of the myth.

At the Residence, Aurelie, whose appearance shook
Medardus to the point of insanity, recognized her brother's
murderer in him. She had him arrested and sent to a cell
deep within the castle. The location of his cell is
another image of the possibility of the complete dis-
solution in non-ego, of the threat of being devoured and

absorbed by the monster and never returning: "Die lange

 

 

 

 

'l lll‘ ll. lirll-‘

112

nachhallenden Tritte und das Auf-und ZuschlieBen vieler
Tfiren lieBen mich wahrnehmen, daB ich mich in einem der
innersten Geféngnisse auf der Burg fand." (2!, II, 172)
The thrust of his interrogation is impelled by the
symbolic import of the cell. During the questioning,
Medardus loses his hold on all of his previous identities.
Now with the alias Leonard, Medardus fabricates a story
which is to persuade the judge that he is really a Pole,
Leonard Krczynski, but that his papers were lost in an
accidental exchange of briefcases with a wild-looking
stranger. The papers found in the stranger's case con-
tained a few notes, incomprehensible to him, and some
letters addressed to a 933: Viktorin. The reader knows
that Medardus is relating the story of his flight from
Baron F.'s after Hermogen's murder, when he exchanged
the Capuchin habit for Viktorin's effects brought to him
in the forest by Viktorin's aid. Now the symbolism of
the isolated cell focuses. The threat of total absorption
grows as Medardus begins to believe his own lie. The
forces of the Unconscious are out of control. They
dominate and condition his conscious awareness of self:
". . . indem ich alles befriedigend beantwortete, rundete
sich das Bild davon so in meinem Innern, daB ich selbst
daran glaubte und keine Gefahr lief, mich in Widersprfiche

zu verwickeln." (2E, II, 177)

113

After the initial hearing, Medardus is taken back
to his cell, which is now even more miserable because of
the absence of chair and bed, taken because the jailer
suspected him of trying to escape. He is left there for
three days, alone. Here the battle alluded to at the
beginning of his visit at the Residence begins in earnest.
Medardus is still in the belly of the whale, and he must
do further battle with himself if he is to emerge vic-

23 He fights this battle from now to the end of

torious.
the chapter, when it abates and the final obstacle comes
into view/v.2]4 Again, the details shall be considered to
see how they reflect the myth.

After the first three days cited above, Medardus
becomes hallucinatory. All the grotesque images of his
heritage of sin and guilt arise to torment him. On the
ninth night, he hears a ghostly voice calling to him.25
The voice is Viktorin, who was committed by the forester
just as Medardus left the Revier for the Residence. The

half-brother is in the cell directly below Medardus.

The voice stammers ". . . Brflderlein, hast . . . du, du

mi-mich erkannt . . . ma-mach auf wir wowollen in den Wald."

Still Medardus refuses to recognize this other part of
his being; ironically, the freedom such an admission holds
in store for him is imaged in his own denial: "'Armer
Wahnsinniger', so sprach es dumpf und schauerlich aus mir

heraus, 'armer Wahnsinniger, nicht aufmachen kann ich dir,

11h

nicht heraus mit dir in den scthen Wald, in die herrliche
freie Frflhlingsluft, die draufien wehen mag . . .'".
Medardus-Viktorin is trapped, ". . . 'eingesperrt im
dumpfen dflstern Kerker bin ich wie du'". (2!, II, 179)
Medardus is interrogated a second time by a judge

who is intellectually more alert than the first one. He
knows Polish and, when he hears Medardus speak his broken
Polish, he thinks that he is probably lying. Cyrillus,
the Old monk from the monastery at B., appears and identi-'
fies him as Medardus by the red cross on his neck, left
from the Abbess's embrace. The incidents of this second
hearing now take on the images of alchemy, as the here
comes into contact with the spirit and his form is made
receptive to its impression. Medardus' prevarications
dissolve in the heat of the alchemist-judge's boring gaze,
magnified by his glasses:

Der Richter war bis jetzt in ruhiger Fassung geblieben,

ohne Blick und Ton zu findern; zum erstenmal verzog

sich nun sein Gesicht zum finstern, durchbohrenden

Ernst, er stand auf und blickte mir scharf ins Auge.

Ich muB gestehen, selbst das Funkeln seiner Glaser

hatte ffir mich etwas Unertrégliches, Entsetzliches,

ich konnte nicht weiter reden. (2E, II, 183)

Intuitively, Medardus feels the real meaning of

the process he is undergoing. Ultimately, the form-
giving spirit will impress itself upon him through his
fulfillment in love, which is synonomous with his personal

Lhntegration into the cosmos in death. The aspect of his

'being most receptive to the spirit is his anima. His

115

union with her happens only in the Liebestod: "'Wohl
liebe ich dich Medardus, aber du verstandest mich nicht'
. . . meine Liebe ist der Tod.'" (2!, II, 189) The
reader knows by now that Aurelie-St. Rosalia symbolizes
the union of his being with the spirit, with the Absolute.
Medardus' perception of this focuses more sharply during
his battle for clarity in the interrogation room. The
judges soul-rending questioning tears at Medardus' spirit,
pulling him away from his physical being to reveal a
flash of truth. To the uninitiated, such truth appears
as insanity. To Medardus, the momentary insight appears
in the image of Aurelie, but his instantaneous rise to
the spiritual vantage point necessary in order to gain
the insight, lifts him with a wrench far beyond his
meaningless earthly identities. To any vestige of earth-
bound ego, such a rent in the cause-effect linkage
appears aberrant and even grotesque. Medardus thus first
perceives the truth only as his own insanity:

. . . von innerer verzweifelnder Wut grimmig

erfaBt, die geballte Faust vor der Stirn, schrie ich

laut auf: 'Aurelie!‘ 'Was $011 das, was bedeutet

der Name?' frug der Richter heftig. 'Ein dunkles

Verhflngnis opfert mich dem schmachvollen Tode', sagte

ich dumpf, aber ich bin unschuldig, gewiB . . . ich

bin ganz unschuldig—entlassen Sie mich . . . haben

Sie Mitleiden . . . ich fflhle es, daB Wahnsinn mir

durch Nerv und Adern zu toben beginnt . . . (2!, II,

183)
Later, Medardus realizes that his insanity was the

only path to self-knowledge: "Schien nicht der Wahnsinn,

116

der fiberall sich mir in den Weg stellte, nur allein
vermBgend, mein Inneres zu durchblicken . . .?"26
At this point, Medardus already knows that he has
lost his grip on objective reality - a prerequisite to
the entire "adventure." It is expected that he should
experience this loss as insanity. To lose one's grip
on reality is, after all, to go insane.
Back in his cell, Medardus hears the voice again.
But this time Viktorin appears through a hole cut in the
floor with a knife, the knife used to kill the Prince's
brother and Hermogen. When this image of the unharnessed
Unconscious confronts Medardus, the shock is too great
and he passes out. The horror of the unintegrated self
is overwhelming. Medardus no longer knows who he is.
He cannot see through the artificial grotesqueness of the
misconstrued point of contact between the conscious and
the unconscious. Any aspect of being which arises out
of something other than the cause-effect sequence still
appears grotesque, but the fact that Medardus is doing
battle anticipates the hero's final victory. When he
tells the guard the next morning that he is accustomed
to talking to himself during the night, he tells the
truth. This admission marks his stay at the Residence as
the most significant battle of the "adventure." He now is
ready to begin the journey out, for his self-acknowledge-

ment expresses his greatest effort to defeat the monster.

 

27

117

The sharpened awareness manifests itself, appropri-
ately, as a more positive image of the anima. As Medardus
holds the knife his father used to murder the Prince's
brother and the one Medardus used to kill Hermogen, the
weapon becomes a connecting symbol of past and present,

a time-puncturing talisman. With the instrument in his
hand, he contemplates suicide, and instantly Aurelie's
image appears. The two symbols together, the one of
death, the other of love and life, merge in this scene
to connote the most exemplary aspect of the life of the
hero. As Medardus contemplates his own death with the
knife, the imageof Aurelie breathes the fire of pure love
into his being, and death, life and love come together
into one transcendent concept of spiritual renewal.
Death then loses its sting as it becomes synonomous with
love:
Die unbegreifliche Art, wie ich das Messer erhalten,
war mir ein Fingerzeig der ewigen Macht, wie ich
meine Verbrechen bfiBen, wie ich im Tode Aurelien
versbhnen solle. Wie ein gBttlicher Strahl im
reinen Feuer durchglfihte mich nun die Liebe zu
Aurelien, jede sflndliche Begier war von mir gewichen.
Es war mir, als séhe ich sie selbst, wie damals, als
sie am Beichtstuhl in der Kirche des Kapuzinerklosters
erschien. 'Wohl liebe ich dich Medardus, aber du
verstandest mich nicht! . . . meine Liebe ist der
Todl' (3,11, 189)

In a swirling montage of dreams on the border of

consciousness and unconsciousness, Medardus confesses

everything, but only to himself. He tries to get another

hearing, but no one comes. He dreams he is being tortured,

 

118

but when he opens his mouth to confess, meaningless

\

babble spews out. His words make sense only to the all-
important inquisitor, to himself:

Noch einmal forderte mich (der Richter) auf, zu
gestehen. Nochmals strengte ich mich an, aber in tollem
Zwiespalt stand Rede und Gedanke. Reuevoll, zerk-
nirscht von tiefer Schmach, bekannt ich im Innern

alles, abgeschmackt, verwirrt, sinnlos war, was der r'
Mund ausstiefl. (331, II, 190)

 

Medardus' self-confession signals his acknowledge-
ment of free will and his recognition of responsibility

for self. Again, images from alchemy arise. The torture

 

suggests the alchemical purification of the body in
preparation for its reunification with the ego-free soul.
The result is form-receptive materia, on which the spirit
impresses a pure and incorruptible form, represented by
gold.28 Medardus' receptiveness enables him now to
accept total responsibility for Self. His new perception
of the meaning of the Old Painter reflects this, and
marks the point in the Pattern where helpers appear as
wise old men, gurus, etc., to protect the total individual.
At last Medardus is able to understand that the Old
Painter is helping him to his goal. As the ancestor in-
vokes images of Medardus' childhood and his contact with
the seed powers, Medardus sees him in his true role as
celestial emissary:

. . . wie ein Gesandter der ewigen Macht, mich

aufzurichten, mich zu trBsten im endlosen Elend,

erschien mir der sonst so schreckliche Maler . . .
er legte die Hand auf mein Haupt, wie mich segnend;

119

da gingen in lichten Farben herrliche Gebilde in

mir auf, -Ach£ Ich war in dem heiligen Walde! ja,

es war derselbe Platz, we in frfiher Kindheit der
fremdartig gekleidete Pilger mir den wunderbaren
Knaben brachte. Ich wollte fortschreiten, ich wollte
hinein in die Kirche, die ich dicht vor mir erblickte.
Dort sollte ich (so war es mir) bfiBend und bereuend
AblaB erhalten von schwerer Sfinde. (Pw, II, 191-192)

The final obstacle remains. It is imposing for
Medardus as it is for the hero of the myth. Medardus
cannot conceive of himself as part of the wholeness
symbolized by the scenes from the Holy Linden: "Aber ich
blieb regungslos - mein eignes Ich konnte ich nicht
erschauen, nicht erfassen." (2!, II, 192) He must
surmount the barrier from within in order to find his way
back to the serenity of his childhood at the Holy Linden,
The universal Pattern of the myth anticipates Medardus'
success. His destiny is preordained, but he must will it
done: "Das Werk, zu dem du erkoren, muBt du vollbringen
zu deinem eignen Heil." (2!, II, 192) No one can divert
the energy which drives the here along his course:

'Ach', rief ich voll Verzweiflung, 'warum hieltst du
nicht meinen Arm zurflck, als ich in verruchtem Frevel
jenen Jflngling . . .' 'Das war mir nicht verannt',
fiel der Maler ein, . . . vermessen ist es, vorgreifen
zu wollen dem, was die ewige Macht beschlossen.‘

(g1, II, 192)

The Old Painter then instills in Medardus his most
meaningful psychic support, a talisman of confidence:

"'Medardus, du gehst deinem Ziel entgegen . . . mergenl'"

(PE, II, 192) Medardus thinks that the Painter approves

wflv 1......—

 

120
of his contemplated suicide. The irony in this false
interpretation is that Medardus' goal is death, but not
through suicide. His still somewhat limited perspective
is an aspect of the final obstacle, for self-destruction
is not his goal. His goal is rather the goal of life

r

and fulfillment in death, the soteriological statement of

the hero's goal. The Painter anticipates this in his 5
answer to Medardus' question: "'Wann, wann sehe ich dich
wieder?’ 'Am Zielel' rief er . . ." (EX, II, 192)

 

Medardus is slowly ascending to the spiritual
vantage point. His further attempts to confess are
thwarted when Cyrillus identifies the imprisoned monk,
Viktorin, as the real Medardus. Whatever the literal
events of the plot, Medardus' confession would in any
case be an unwarranted concession to objective reality
at this point in the journey. His goal is a transcen-
dental one; it cannot be blocked by the demands of human
institutions. Although recurring images of the battle
will continue to afflict him, Medardus has advanced to
the point where the goal is in view. The final path to it
is free of the obstacles he has encountered along the way:
"Ich stand auf dem hbchsten Punkt des Lebens;abw5rts
muBte es sich wenden, damit ein Geschick erfflllt werde,
das die hBhere Macht beschlossen." (2E, II, 201)

The evolving significance of the feminine image in

Medardus' mind strengthens accordingly. Released from

121

prison, Medardus learns of the intimate connection of
his and Aurelie's fate. In a purloined letter from
Aurelie to the Abbess, Medardus reads of the love of

Q
Aurelie's mother for his father, Francesko. This love
has been passed on to Aurelie in the form of her obsession
with his image. The obsession impressed itself upon her
psyche when, as a child, she saw her mother gazing at a
portrait of Francesko. Plagued by nightmare images in her
sleep, she has a vision of a monk, who promises to dis-
pel the images of sin and evil if she will declare her
love for him. She does this, calling the monk Medardus
by name. Both Medardus and Aurelie carry the blood of

29

Francesko I, the Old Painter, in their veins, and its
effects show in Aurelie through her forbidden love for
the image of a monk. 'Still in her dreams, she goes to
confess the next morning and sees that her confessor is -
Medardus! The confession she then makes to him brings
the story full circle, for this is the confession related
by Medardus at the beginning of the novel:

Da rauschte es in meiner NAhe, und ich erblickte ein

grofles, schlankes Frauenzimmer . . . einen Schleier

fiber das Gesicht . . . Jedes ihrer Worte griff in

meine Brust, als sie bekannte, wie sie eineu verbotene

Liebe hege . . . sie stockte -mit einem Trfinenstrom

. . . brach sie los: 'Du selbst - du selbst, Medardus,

bist es den ich so unaussprechlich liebe.' (2!, II,
38-39)

The integration of self has thus already begun at

the beginning of Medardus' experience, in keeping with

 

122

the timeless symbol of the circular Pattern of the myth.
Clearly, the epistolary reference to this incident not
only connects their fates, it also imperceptibly merges
their two identities. As Aurelie frees herself from her
passion for the monk, so Medardus slowly rises above his
lust for Aurelie. The freeing of self and further pro—
gress towards the goal spoken of above is signaled by the
evolution of the symbol of the feminine image from earthly
form and physical desire, to transfiguration and fulfill-
ment in physical death. The appearance in Aurelie's dream
of the Old Pilgrim, St. Joseph, from Medardus' childhood
(it is never certain whether Medardus' sight of her in
the confessional was a vision or real) is a certain sign
of this. In the letter to the Abbess, she tells of her
declaration of love for Medardus and how it was heard by
Joseph. Joseph knows that her love is Medardus' salvation.
'Du selbst, du selbst, Medardus, bist es, den ich so
unaussprechlich liebe.' Das waren die letzten Worte,
die ich zu sprechen vermochte, aber nun floB lindernder
Trost der Kirche, wie des Himmels Balsam, von den
Lippen des M8nchs, dir mir plBtzlich nicht mehr
Medardus schien. Bald darauf nahm mich ein ehrwfirdiger
Pilger in seine Arme und ffihrte mich langsamen Schrittes
durch die G5nge der Kirche zur Hauptpforte hinaus.
Er sprach hochheilige, herrliche Worte . . . Ich verlor
was BewuBtsein. (2!, II, 219)
The release of energies loosed in the rescue of the“
maiden continues. Seen in only its physical setting, the
planned marriage of Aurelie and Medardus would be blas-

phemous, for Medardus is still a monk. But in the

suggestion of their ultimate union in death, it contributes

 

 

123

to the ever-deepening awareness Medardus develops within.
As the wedding-preparations proceed, Medardus learns that
the trial of the insane monk (Viktorin) has been inter-
rupted by new evidence of the monk's insanity. The court
has received news of the death of Medardus' mother, and had
immediately informed Viktorin, still believing him to be
Medardus. Viktorin laughed wildly and said that the
Italian princess, wife of the Prince's murdered brother,
had died long ago. This sounded like insane babble to
the court, but Medardus knows the grisly reference.
He then learns the exact time of his mother's death from
the judge, and discovers that his vision of her several
days before, took place at the same moment of her death.
Suddenly he understands the meaning of the vision: she
is the mediator between him and Aurelie. Her image in-
corporates the ancient symbol of Tellus Mater, a symbol
of human integration into the earth as microcosm. It
explains the Aurelie-St. Rosalia image as a symbol of
human integration into the universe as macrocosm, and
thus deepens Medardus' understanding of Aurelie's love:
. . . und tief eindringend in Sinn und Gemflt, war nun
auch die nur zu sehr vergessene Mutter die Mittlerin
zwischen mir und der reinen Himmelsseele, die mein
werden sollte. Milder und weicher geworden, schien
ich nun erst Aureliens Liebe ganz zu verstehen, ich
mochte sie wie eine mich beschirmende Heilige kaum
verlassen, und mein dfisteres Geheimnis wurde, indem
sie nicht mehr deshalb in mich drang, nun ein mir

selbst unerforschliches, von hbheren MAchten verhflngtes
Ereignis. (2)1, II, 22h)

- r1114.

 

12h

The connection between his unconscious and conscious
has been made, but it has yet to be firmly secured. It
is made again on the day of the wedding, when intimation
of the transcendent knowledge that Aurelie-St. Rosalia
holds for Medardus appears. Aurelie's dress and hair in-

voke ancient, archetypal yearnings, and the mergence of

 

the two figures fires a bolt of insight into Medardus'

soul:

 

Ihr Gewand sowie ihr Haarschmuck hatte etwas sonderbar' ,
Altertflmliches, eine dunkle Erinnerung ging in mir auf, E
aber von tiefem Schauer fflhlte ich mich durchbebt,
als plbtzlich lebhaft das Bild des Altars, an dem wir
getraut werden sollten, mir vor Augen stand. Das
Bild stellte das Martyrium der heiligen Rosalia vor,
und gerade so wie Aurelie war sie gekleidet . . . mit
dem KuB des reinsten Entzflckens durchdrang mich aufs
neue das deutliche Gefflhl, daB nur durch Aurelie meine
Seele errettet werden kbnne. (2!, II, 22h-25)
Even though Medardus must still struggle for the
final release of the maiden, this confession signals and
anticipates the ultimate meaning she has for him. She
is the salvation of his soul, the Christian gift of life.

In the myth, the maiden is life, and the here knows her

in every respect.

D. The Kingship.

Chapter II of the second part of the novel, "Die
BuBe," clearly implies elements of the kingship motif.
Medardus' progressively firmer grasp of the concept of

the feminine image has lead him closer to a psychological

125

possession of her her knowledge, idealized and personified
in the figure of St. Rosalia. True to the essential
meaning and purpose of the ancient initiation rites,

30 He is at the point of thee

Medardus has become another.
Pattern where the here as king descends to the under—

world. The restoration of the external signs of his real

 

identity, his Capuchin habit, clearly symbolizes his
ascension to the throne and his readiness to assimilate

the knowledge represented by the underworld. As a vest-

 

ment of the Church, the habit is the mark of the mediator
between heaven and earth, - another symbol of totality.
Let us recall the events leading to this restoration.

The marriage did not take place. Viktorin's appearance
on the wedding—day sent Medardus into a crazed frenzy,
culminating in his attempt on Aurelie's life and in

31

another struggle with the escaped Viktorin. Medardus
awakens from the experience to find that he has been in
an asylum in Italy for three months. Schbnfeld found him
naked in the woods, an apparent symbol of the complete
dissolution of superficial ego. After the struggle in
the woods, Viktorin had taken Medardus' clothes and left
his habit lying beside him. Sch8nfe1d dressed him in
the habit and took him to the asylum.32
The figure of Sch8nfe1d now becomes more than that

of a helper-figure. He becomes a representative of the

underworld and, in his mediating role between the forces

126

of the depths and the consciousness of Medardus, another
symbol of totality. In colorful images, he praises and
describes the treasures that lie buried in the uncon-

scious. These are the treasures the hero wins in his

 

battle and the ones he gains in his descent and return from
the underworld. The reader knows from the previous chap-
ter that the winning of "treasures" means the gaining of
the knowledge of death. Only the hero can see beyond

their misleading and sometimes frightening appearance on

 

.3.--.

the surface, to the enlightening, ultimately comforting !
substance beneath. First, Medardus expresses relief that

his ravings have subsided, and that he seems to be free

of impending insanity. But Scthfeld's description of

the unconscious raises the monk's misconstrued perception

of the conscious and unconscious as opposing aspects of

the two levels of reality, to one that transcends all

opposites, a mental process that is the function and goal

33

of most myths, rites and beliefs. Medardus is then

able to see the rich images of the unconscious:

'Ei, ehrwflrdiger Herr! was haben Sie denn nun davon!
Ich meine von der besonderen Geistesfunktion, die man
BewuBtsein nennt . . . Die schflnsten Juwelen werden
wie schane Saatkorner in die Erde gesteckt, und was
emporschieflt, sind hflchstens Runkelrflben, aus denen
die Praxis . . . eine Viertelunze fibelschmeckenden
zucker preBt . . . Hei . . . hei . . . und doch sollte
jede Ausfuhr einen Handelsverkehr begrflnden mit der
herrlichen Gottesstadt da droben, wo alles stolz und
herrlich ist. (31, II, 238)

Belcampo-Schbnfeld then alludes to Medardus'

127
readiness to begin the descent, having fought through the
"beet-roots" lying just underneath the surface, the sub-
conscious, to the seeds of jewels in the depths, to the
knowledge of the underworld, to the Collective Unconscious:
"'Du bist, mein lieber Bruder Medardus, nunmehr ganz
genesen, du bedarfst meines Beistandes nicht mehr . . .'".
(g1, II, 2&0)

Medardus leaves the asylum and continues on his way
to Rome, ever on the route of the mission given him by
Prior Leonardus. The quest-aspect of this mission cor-
responds to the hero's descent to the underworld, for
here, appropriately in another Capuchin monastery just
outside Rome, Medardus plumbs the farthest depths of his
being in the most severe acts of penance. In the torment
of starvation and flagellation, he is separate from the
upper world of men. Horrible, grotesque images of his
past loom up at the entrance to the underworld, and visions
of Aurelie still incite lust. But the intensity of
Medardus' penance convinces the Prior that his contrition
is genuine. His intercession signals the beginning
revelation of the underworld's treasures to Medardus.
Defining virtue, the Prior lifts the opposing fields of
Good and Evil to the one, higher plane where the two are
coincidental, mutually generating parts of a greater con-
cept. He explains that an inescapable fate (the hero's

immovable center) has subjected Medardus to the power of

128

the devil (the lost perception of oneness, unharnessed
subconscious forces, ego-bound intransigence, etc.), but
that he was never at any time without the power of free
will to combat the evil. The clash of opposites in his
soul has caused him the most agonizing psychic torment,
but the battle has been necessary. Without it, there
could be no virtue. Battling through to this level of
existential awareness is a struggle which Medardus' free
will has enabled him to fight, even though fate has
decreed that he shall. In his conquest of the self, his
free will recognizes and concedes the inevitability and
necessity for evil to generate virtue or for virtue to
generate evil. In thus accepting the universe for what
it is, the self rises above the view which shows him only
the clash of opposites to a perspective which reveals a
coincidence of opposites. Instead of viewing the process
of creation from the attitude of the forms created, the
hero now views it from the comprehensive vantage of the
creating source.3h The greater entity formed out of

this coincidence is like the fruit of the marriage of sun
and moon, sulpher and quicksilver, king and queen; the
energy released is the source of the light of the Absolute
shining through the purified soul; it is the universe seen,
not as a chaotic raging of eternally warring opposites,

35

but as an undifferentiated totality. The Prior explains

this to Medardus:

 

129

In wessen Menschen Herz stfirmt nicht der Bfise und
widerstrebt dem Guten; aber ohne diesen Kampf gfib'
es keine Tugend, denn diese ist nur der Sieg des guten
Prinzips fiber das Bfise, sowie aus dem umgekehrten
die Sfinde entspringt.
After a few days, the Prior gives Medardus the
Old Painter's manuscript. Opening it, he sees sketches

of the frescos in the Holy Linden, and reads the entire

family-history. This is the point in the Pattern where Z

the hero receives final, full revelation of the secrets

and treasures of the underworld. Medardus is not surprised

 

at the contents of the book:
Lfingst wuBte ich ja alles, was in diesem Malerbuch
aufbewahrt werden. Das . . . waren meine Trfiume,
meine Ahnungen, nur deutlich, bestimmt, in scharfen
Zfigen dargestellt, wie ich es niemals zu tun
vermochte. (2!, II, 2&8)
Appropriately, the image of the anima takes on a more
comforting aspect just before this revelation of self.
Just as the myths of the heroes represent the agonies of
finite form in various ways: "Blutete auch meine Herzen-
swunde fort, wurde auch nicht milder der Schmerz, der aus
dem Innern heraus mich durchbohrte . . .", they also and
at the same time reveal the peace permeating the cosmos,
"the heavenly rose":36 ". . . an dem schfinen Bilde der
heiligen Rosalia (war) ein Straufl der schfinsten, in dieser
Jahreszeit seltenen Rosen (befestigt)." (2!, II, 319)
To Medardus, Aurelie-St. Rosalia is the heavenly rose:
. . . ich sah die holde Gestalt der lebenden Aurelie,

die, himmlisches Mitleiden im Auge voll Trfinen, sich
fiber mich hinbeugte. Sie streckte die Hand, wie mich

130

beschirmend, aus fiber mein Haupt, da senkten sich
meine Augenlider, und ein sanfter erquickender
Schlummer go neue Lebenskraft in meine Adern.
(.1231. II. 2h8
At this point in the novel, the editor (Hoffmann)
interrupts to supply the reader with the Old Painter's

manuscript. It tells how a drink of the Devil's Elixirs

 

also began his, the first Francesko's, life of evil. As
the family multiplied, the web of incest and murder grew

more intricate. The Old Painter, given a special dis-

 

pensation by heaven to follow his progeny through their :
earthly lives, hopes that Franz-Medardus will release the
family from its curse. He sees Medardus fighting evil,
but St. Rosalia interceding and saving him. He vows to
stand by him throughout his life - then the manuscript
breaks off. Again, the prophecy and the promise of
liberation expressed in the manuscript confirm Medardus
as a hero of the Pattern. All of the motifs are implicit
in the Old Painter's closing words - from birth to the
knowledge of death as a transcending experience not to
be feared:
Wirst du es sein, Franziskus, der an heiliger Stfitte
geboren, durch frommen Wandel den verbrecherischen
Ahnherrn entsfindigt . . . Fern von der Welt . . . soll
der Knabe sich ganz dem Himmlischen zuwenden. . . . So
hat es der heilige Mann, der wunderbaren Trost in
meine Seele goB, der Mutter verkfindet, und es mag
wohl die Prophezeiung der Gnade sein, die mich mit
wundervoller Klarheit erleuchtet, . . . Ich sehe den
Jfingling den Todeskampf streiten mit der finstern
Macht . . . Er ffillt, doch ein gfittlich Weib erhebt

fiber sein Haupt die Siegeskrone! Es ist die heilige
Rosalia selbst, die ihn errettetl' (2!, II, 268)

131
Medardus' treasure is the full knowledge of the

self and the awareness of his purpose of existence,

given him by the Manuscript. Like all heroes, his purpose‘
in life is to teach the exemplary death. The hero's
return to meet this goal is the subject of the last
chapter of the novel, appropriately titled "Die Rfickkehr F

in das Kloster."

E. The Death of the Hero.

 

I F .-n.:--. .0

Medardus' death is a spiritual victory signifying
the ultimate assimilation of the wisdom symbolized by
the sanctified feminine image of Aurelie-St. Rosalia and
confronted in the descent into the underworld. It occurs
amidst extraordinary circumstances and reflects the
Pattern in every respect. Again, we shall follow the
evolution of the motif in the novel to its fulfillment.

Medardus decides to leave Rome, because of the
danger to his life. The Pope, a worldly man, has decided
to elevate Medardus to the office of Papal confessor,
and this news has inflamed the jealousy of the Dominicans,
one of whom presently holds that office. But before
Medardus has a chance to leave the city, he is awakened
late in the night by some hooded monks and taken to the
outskirts of town. In underground vaults, Medardus ad-
ministers the Last Rites to his brother Capuchin, Cyrillus,

whom the Dominicans then behead for allegedly plotting

132

against the Pope. An attempt to poison Medardus fails
when he secretively pours the poison into the sleeve of
his habit. But the strong poison eats away the flesh
of his arm, leaving him permanently without the use of
the limb. Still, Medardus' words to Cyrillus comfort

him and dispel any latent doubts and fears the old monk

 

may have had: "0, mein Bruder Medardus, wie haben mich
deine Worte erquickt! Froh gehe ich dem Tode

entgegen . . ." (2W, II, 280)

 

IF“

This episode reveals Medardus' awareness that his
finite form is but the agent - just a limited personifi-
cation of the God that is the life force in and around
him. Neither the time-bound transgressions of form nor
its transitory nature violates the integrity and essential.
nature of the whole. When he administers the Last Rites
to Cyrillus, he imparts this knowledge to the old monk.

He thus sees beyond the immediacy of his personal sins to
prove that he has been born 22 death, that he has re-
turned from the depths of his penance to share the
knowledge with men in order to de-alienate them from the
cosmos:37
Cyrillus erholte sich bald und beichtete mir, er, der
Fromme, dem freveligen Sfinderl Aber es war, als
wfirde, indem ich den Greis, dessen hfichste Vergehen
nur in Zweifel bestanden, die ihm hie und da aufgestoBen,
absolvierte, von der hohen ewigen Macht ein Geist des
Himmels in mir entzfindet, und als sei ich nur das
Werkzeug, das korpergewordene Organ, dessen sich
jene Macht bediene, um schon hieneieden zu dem noch

nicht entbundenen Menschen menschlich zu reden.
(g3, II, 279—80)38

133

The association of Medardus' excrutiatingly painful
arm with his feelings of guilt, makes the withered limb
the image of the here's one vulnerable spot:
aber zu dem peinigenden Andenken an alle begangenen
Frevel, das die strengste BuBe nicht zu vertilgen
vermocht hatte, gesellte sich der kfirperliche
empfindliche Schmerz des abwelkenden Armes . . .
(H. II. 283)

The possibility of spiritual regression which the image

from the myth symbolizes is not lost on Medardus. Thoughts

of suicide invoked by the unbearable pain of the arm

 

soon expand to delusions of martyrdom, and Medardus slips

back into the only real sin, pride:
. . . So arbeitete meine Phantasie ein Gemfilde aus,
das meine Verherrlichung hienieden mit lebendigen
Farben darstellte, und nicht gedenkend, nicht ahnend,
wie der bfise Geist des sfindlichen Stolzes mich auf
neue Weise zu verlocken trachte, beschlop ich, nach
meiner vfilligen Genesung in Rom zu bleiben, meine
bisherige Lebensweise fortzusetzen und so entweder
glorreich zu sterben oder, durch den Papst meinen
Feinden entrissen, emporzusteigen zu hohen Wfirden
der Kirche. (PW, II, 28h—85)

Medardus' delirious vision of his own martyrdom
becomes the vision of his redemption and spiritual renewal
in death. Still suffering recurring fever from the pain
in his arm, implying in a collage of images the loss
of throne, the prophecy, and defiance of death, he dreams
that someone stabs him through the chest with a dagger.
But his arrogant desire for martyrdom is deflected by

the voice of his own soul; no blood of redemption can flow

from the wound so long as he continues to want the honor

13h

and reverence of men: "Statt des Blutes quoll ein
ekelhafter farbloser Saft aus der weit aufklaffenden
Wunde, und eine Stimme sprach: 'Ist das Blut vom Mfirtyrer
vergossen?'" His inner awareness tells him in the ancient
symbology of spiritual renewal (See pp. 57-58) that he,

too, can expect salvation: "Doch ich will das unreine

 

Wasser klfiren und ffirben, und dann wird das Feuer, welches

fiber das Licht gesiegt, ihn krfinen! Ich war es, der

dies gesprochen . . ." (PW, II, 28h) Even though Medardus'

 

insight is still limited to the perception of a clash of 5
opposites ("das Feuer, welches fiber das Licht gesiegt"),
it continues to deepen as the images become more and
more profound. The fulfillment of his love for Aurelie-St.
Rosalia is the final assimilation of his knowledge of
death. Only the blood of redemption and the heavenly
rose of St. Rosalia's intercession make this possible.
He progresses by degrees towards this awareness. Any
aspect of pride and arrogance results in damnation:
Instead of the red blood of Christ, impure water continues
to flow out of the vision of his martyred corpse, because
he does not will the intercession himself. His will is
"der Gedanke" :
. . . als ich mich aber von meinem toten Selbst
getrennt ffihlte, merkte ich wohl, daB ich der wesenlose
Gedanke meines Ichs sei- . . . 'ich — ich', sprach

der Gedanke, 'ich bin es, der Eure Blumen - Euer Blut
ffirbt - Blumen und Blut sind Eure Hochzeitsschmuck,

135

den ich bereite!‘ Sowie ich tiefer und tiefer
niederfiel, erblickte ich die Leiche mit weit
aufklaffender Wunde in der Brust, aus der jenes
unreine Wasser in Strfimen floB. (PW, II, 28h—285)

Then, in one all-encompassing metaphor, Medardus

learns from himself that the light of heaven and the fire

 

of hell are one and the same essence: the light of
spiritual renewal shines forth out of the soul-cleansing
baptism in fire, and the agent of this baptism is the

blood of Christ and the red rose of Aurelie-St. Rosalia,

 

whom Medardus has been trying to poison with his projec- ' w
tion of earthly desire: "Verblendeter, tfirichter Gedanke,
kein Kampf zwischen Licht und Feuer, aber das Licht is die
Feuertaufe durch das Rot, das du zu vergiften trachtest."
(g1, II, 285)
The element of the satanic conveyed in the above
images of fire and death foretoken the redemption to come

39

for the hero. The vision finally culminates in the
appearance of Christ, a vision which brings Medardus back
full circle to the boy Jesus of his childhood. The as-
sociation implies the cyclic form of the Pattern, and
Medardus' immediately preceding descent into the satanic
realm becomes another instant of hierophanic time; the
hero stands at the beginning and end of all things at all
points in the Pattern. He must constantly confront chaos,

madness, regression in order to renew himself spiritually

with the wisdom symbolized by death. Medardus agonizingly

136

does this in his dream. Desperation and despair permeate

I
his being as he descends to the Gates of Hell, and he is

confronted once again by the unintegrated force of the un-
conscious - his Doppelgfinger. - He thinks only

. . . daB ich erettet werden mfige von den dunkeln
Mfichten, die aus der offenen Hfillenpforte auf mich
eindrfingen. Es geschah, daB ich mein Gebet, nur im 1
Innern gedacht, laut und vernehmlich hfirte, wie es

Herr wurde fiber das Klopfen und Kichern und unheim-

liche Geschwfitz des furchtbaren Doppeltgfingers, aber

zuletzt sich verlor in ein seltsames Summen . . .

(fl, II, 285-286)

 

His prayer becomes the lament of the demand. But
in this instant of deepest despair is the victory over
despair, a concept which directly concerns our own cen-
tury, and which places Hoffmann's work in a timeless
dimension.hO Now the treasure of the underworld, always
in Christian symbols, reveals itself to him again, and
his soul asks:

'Ist das nicht der weissagende Traum, der sich auf
deine blutende Wunde heilend und trfistend legen will?’
In dem Augenblicke brach der Purpurschimmer des
Abendrots durch den dfistern farblosen Nebel, aber in
ihm erhob sich eine hohe Gestalt. Es war Christus,
aus jeder seiner Wunden perlte ein Tropfen Bluts,

und wiedergegeben war der Erde das Rot . . .

(22. II. 286)

But Medardus must first experience and understand
the interceding love of the maiden before he can ascend
once again to the plane of spiritual perception on which
the kingship motif of the Pattern has its throne.

Aurelie's significance for Medardus is given directly by

Hoffmann at the beginning of Part II of the novel.

137
Desiring to evoke in the reader that nebulous vision
of the feminine ideal of one's youth, he gives expression '
to the archetypal yearning which the maiden, the girl of

one's dreams, symbolizes:

Wer du auch sein magst, . . . rufe dir jene hfichste
Sonnenzeit zurfick, schaue noch einmal das holde
Frauenbild, das, der Geist der Liebe selbst, dir
entgegentrat. Da glaubtest du ja nur in ihr dich,
dein hfiheres Sein zu erkennen . . . Und sie kam, sie
wollte dein sein ganz und gar. Du umfingst sie voll
glfihenden Verlangens und wolltest, losgelbst von der
Erde, auflodern in inbrfinstiger Sehnsucht!

(.1331. II. 165)

 

i
L"

Such fulfillment, however, is impossible this
side of life, for the vision vanishes the instant he
reaches out to embrace her. Hoffmann pleads for empathy
with Medardus, whose grief has been just this unful-
filled love. Only in death can the yearning be fulfilled.
In the following passage, Hoffmann expresses this deep,
humanizing meaning of the myth, which it is the hero's
mission to convey by living it. The here has been born
22 death to provide a timeless example of its liberating
conception. Hoffmann implies his own awareness that
the primitive rites and myths of heroes acted out and
narrated this secret, in the time before time, and so
establishes the most direct relationship between the
myth of the hero and the story of Medardus - Medardus,
too, has been born to death; in death, he knows the

maiden:

138

Noch ehe du zu hoffen wagtest, hattest du sie verloren,
alle Stimmen, alle Tfine waren verklungen, und nur die
hoffnungslose Klage des Einsamen fichzte grauenvoll
durch die dfistre Einfide . . . Aber auch du . . .
glaubst es, daB der Liebe hfichste Seligkeit, die
Erffillung des Geheimnisses, im Tode aufgeht. So
verkfinden es die dunklen weissagenden Stimmen, die

aus jener, keinem irdischen MaBstab meBlichen Urzeit

zu uns herfibertfinen, und wie in den Mysterien, die

die Sfiuglinge der Natur feierten, ist uns ja auch

der Tod das Weihfest der Liebe! (2!, II, 165) “

Knowing the maiden, Medardus, returned now to the
monastery at B., understands Prior Leonardus' perception

of the coincidence of opposites which is the oneness of

l WWII? .u

the universe. In the clash of opposites there operates

a principle Which goes beyond good and evil. Just as the
hero must descend to the darkness before he can ascend to
the light, so Medardus must drink of the Devil's Elixirs
before he can rise to the perspective of the higher
principle. Here there is no clash, but only the stillness
of the universe, remaining constant in change. The Prior

tells him:

Ach, Bruder Medardus, noch geht der Teufel rastlos

auf Erden umher und bietet den Menschen seine

Elixiere dart . . . aber das ist der Wille des Himmels,
das der Mensch der bfisen Wirkung des augenblicklichen
Leichtsinns sich bewuBt werde und aus diesem klaren
Bewufltsein die Kraft schfipfe, ihr zu widerstehen.

Darin offenbart sich die Macht des Herrn, daB, so

wie das Leben der Natur durch das Gift, das sittlich
gute Prinzip in ihr erst durch das BBse bedingt wird.
(21. II. 303-3014)

-As he explains the necessity of evil for good, the
Prior anticipates the conclusion of Medardus' adventure

with death. The ultimate fulfillment of his love for

139

Aurelie-St. Rosalia in death and the realization of com-
plete and pure being in the cosmos both arise out of
Aurelie's murder. First, as Aurelie walks into the
church in procession to take her vows, Medardus fights
the last vestige of his physical desire for her. But
finally the sound of her voice quells his passion and
his thoughts reflect the meaning of the myth. She is
the wisdom gained in the descent to the underworld.
Knowing her is realizing victory over death:

Als ich ihre Stimme hfirte. . . . (wurde) es Licht

in mir, und ich erkannte den bfisen Geist, dem ich mit

aller Gewalt widerstand. Jedes Wort gab mir neue

Kraft, und im heiBen Kampf wurde ich bald Sieger.

Entflohen war jeder schwarze Gedanke des Frevels,

jede Regung der irdischen Begier. Aurelie war die

fromme Himmelsbraut, deren Gebet mich retten konnte

von ewiger Schmach und Verderbnis. Ihr Gelfibde

war mein Trost, meine Hoffnung, und hell ging in mir

die Heiterkeit des Himmels auf . . .1 (2!, II,
308-309)

Aurelie takes her vows. Then, in a turbulent,
swirling rush of action, the crazed Viktorin runs into
the church, springs over the gallery and stabs Aurelie.
Magically, the Old Painter appears out of the portrait
above the altar, and the premonition of Aurelie-St.
Rosalia's martyrdom and elevation to Sainthood is ful-
filled. Medardus' final awareness is complete. He
understands her dying words to him, which imply the path
of his "adventure." Francesko I, the Old Painter, knows
now that Medardus has almost liberated the family from

the curse: "Wohl dir, Medardus, bald ist deine

Iho

Prfifungszeit beendet und wohl mir dann." (2!, II, 312)
The need to engage in the "adventure" and descend

to chaos again and again in order to insure continual
spiritual renewal, is the essential meaning of this last
motif of the Pattern. The last penance imposed on
Medardus by Prior Leonardus states the motif for the
last time in the novel. Medardus must write down the
course of his "adventure" out from the Monastery at B.
and back again, exactly as it happened, with no detail
omitted. His life and its narration in this manuscript, ;~
which is the text of the novel itself, written by Medardus
in the first person, allude to the inseparability of
the myth from the rite. Its publication by the editor
(Hoffmann) makes possible a continual repetition of the
exemplary life of the hero Medardus, whose human-divine
spirit is the higher principle hovering over the Pattern
and infusing it with meaning. This is documentary proof
that Medardus has descended to hell and returned to
the world of men in fulfillment of his heroic destiny,
and that his life will continue to have an effect on men
after he dies. This is not a vicarious repetition, but
a living of the experience gg‘it actually happened -
an ancient concept of ritual time discussed above.
Leonardus' charge confirms this idea:

'Du magst die Geschichte deines Lebens genau

aufschreiben. Keinen der merkwfirdigen Vorfalle,
auch selbst der unbedeutenderen, vorzfiglich nichts,

1141
was dir im bunten Weltleben widerfuhr, darfst
du auslassen. Die Phantasie wird dich wirklich in
die Welt zurfickffihren, du wirst alles Grauenvolle,
Possenhafte, Schauerliche und Lustige noch einmal

ffihlen, . . . so wirst du wie ein hfiheres Prinzip
fiber alles schweben . . .'

Medardus does indeed experience the entire "ad-
venture" again as a reality; his narrative verifies this:
"Ich tat, wie der Prior geboten. Achl Wohl geschah
es so, wie er es ausgeprochen: Schmerz und Wonne, Grauen
und Lust - Entsetzen und Entzficken stfirmten in meinem
Innern, als ich mein Leben schrieb." (2!, II, 316)

He dies exactly one year to the hour after
Aurelie-St. Rosalia's martyrdom. The time, the per-
vading, sweet smell of roses and the bouquet left on
Rosalia's portrait by Schfinfeld (whose deep perception
of the irony of life has pulled him inside, never to
return to reality) - all connote again the life and
purpose of the hero. "Die Stunde der Erffillung ist
nicht mehr fern," intones the Old Painter, who materi-
alizes mysteriously in Medardus' cell. The miraculous
death amidst strange and extraordinary circumstances
transpires. The Pattern of the myth of the hero in
the Christian images and symbols of Die Elixiere des

Teufels is complete.

1112

The hero of myth must abandon all and be abandoned.
Dorothy Norman.
II. The Artist as Hero: Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler.
Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler fully personifies

the hero of myth.“.1 To show this, the following discus-
sion draws simultaneously on Kater Murr, the Kreisleriana
and other Kreisler-tales where the motifs of the Pattern
appear. For example, a cursory survey of the motifs
appearing in the second Kreisleriana, number IX of
Phantasiestucke in Callots Manier (2W, I, 342-38h) out-
lines almost the entire Pattern and so anticipates the
detailed discussion which follows. The first two of
these Kreisleriana are based on the unsent letters of a
Baron Wallborn and Johannes to one another. Both men
show the same peculiar behavior, extreme eccentricity
bordering on madness; thus they reveal a sort of spiritual
kinship. Kreisler's inner spiritual turmoil suggests his
withdrawal to a deep level of introspection:

Schon lange galt der arme Johannes allgemein ffir

wahnsinnig, und in der Tat stach auch sein ganzes

Tun und Treiben, vorzfiglich sein Leben in der Kunst,

so grell gegen alles ab, was vernfinftig und

schicklich heisst, dass an der inneren Zerfittung

seines Geistes kaum zu zweifeln war. (2!, I, 342)

Kreisler's vehicle to the inner world is his music.

The hero's difficulty in returning from this inner world,

and the practical impossibility of communicating with

the real world appear in Wallborn's letter to Kreisler,

143

where the Baron laments the unfeeling soul of an other-

wise lovely girl:
. . . es geschah Euch vielleicht noch nie, daB Ihr
. . . glaubtet, o Johannes, nun habe Euer Laut die
geliebte Seele durchdrungen, und nun, eben nun werde
des Klanges hfichster Schwung Tauperlen um jene zwei
Sterne ziehen, mildernd und schmfickend den seligen
Glanz, und die Sterne wandten sich nach irgendeiner
L5pperei hin, etwa nach einer gefallenen Masche, und
die Engelslippen verkniffen, unhold léchelnd, ein
fibermfichtiges GAhnen, -und, Herr, es war weiter
nichts, als Ihr hattet die gnfidige Frau ennuyiert.
(214.. I. 3&6)

In Kreisler's reply to Wallborn, he admits to his
propensity for expressing himself musically, and so
anticipates the sole vehicle of his heroism. Music has
infused itself so thoroughly into his entire world that
unknowing persons are at a loss to understand him:

". . . die Leute behaupten, die musik, die sonst in
meinem Innern verschlossen, sei zu machtig und stark
herausgegangen und habe mich so umsponnen und eingepuppt,
daB ich nicht mehr heraus kfinne . . ." (2!, I, 348)

The musical phantasies Kreisler experiences show him
moving in a world of tones and reveal several motifs of
the Pattern of the myth, such as archetypal yearning and
the call: "Ach! sie (holde Geister) tragen mich ins
Land der ewigen Sehnsucht . . ."; the horrors of the
threshhold and of ego-dissolution: "Halt dich standhaft,
mein Herz: -brich nicht, berfihrt von dem sengenden

Strahl, der die Brust durchdrang . . ."; soul-purifica-

tion by fire: "Sie haben mir eine herrliche Krone

1AM

gereicht, aber was in den Diamenten so blitzt und funkelt,
das sind die tausend Trfinen, die ich vergoss, und in dem
Golde gleissen die Flammen, die mich verzehrten . . .";
latent heroic attributes and the transcendent kingdom:
"Mut und Macht -Vertrauen und Stfirke dem, der zu herrschen
berufen ist im Geisterreichl"; the rescue of the maiden,
whose knowledge the hero assimilates:

Warum fliehst du, holdes Madchen? Vermagst du es

denn, da dich fiberall unsichtbare Bande festhalten?

Du weisst es nicht zu sagen, was sich so in deine

Brust gelegt hat wie ein nagender Schmerz und dich

doch mit sfisser Lust durchbebt? Aber alles wirst du

wissen, wenn ich mit dir rede, mit dir kose in der

Geistersprache, die ich zu sprechen vermag, und die

du so wohl verstehst. (2!, I, 353-5h)

Other motifs of the Pattern continue to appear:

The winning of the maiden: "Du magst nicht mehr weichen
von mir, denn jene geheimen Ahnungen, die deine Brust
beengten, sind erffillt. Der Ton sprach wie ein trfisten-
des Orakel aus meinem Innern zu dir . . ."; the percep-
tion of unity and harmony in the universe, which is the
place beyond dualism, the secret of death: "Welch
lustiges Leben in Flur und Wald in holder Frfihlingszeit!
Alle Flfiten und Schalmeien, die wintersfiber in staubigen
Winkeln wie zum Tode erstarrt lagen, sind wach werden
. . ."; descent into the underworld, to the world of the
dead (Kreisler's descent is down to the depths of in-

sanity; madness is his own personal devil):

Er greift mit glfihender Kralle nach meinem Herzen!
. . . siehst du es lauern, das bleiche Gespenst mit

1145

den rot funkelnden Augen . . . es ist der Wahnsinn!
. . . Verruchter, du hast mir alle Blumen zertreten
in schauerlicher Wfiste grfint kein Halm mehr -tot -tot

-tot. (H, I. 355)
Kreisler's horror of insanity is the hero's ever-
present danger of not returning from the descent. Be-

cause his perception is not clear enough to allow him an

 

unobstructed view of the life within - a common problem
among Hoffmann's artist-heroes - the subjective import of
his music threatens. him with insanity and actually appears
as such to most of those around him. His horror roots
ironically in his naiveté vis-a-vis the spiritual world
of his music. He believes that integration and assimi-
lation into the cosmos should be as easy for him as it
is for a melody. The irony is that the prerequisite dis-
solution of ego, appearing as insanity to others, is
only initially horrible. In terms of the myth, Kreisler's
insanity, before which he has such great fear, is a de-
sirable state, because it opens the door to the other
world, and its initial horror is short-lived. His re-
fusal to return would then indeed surface as insanity,
but his wished-for integration would be fulfilled:

Ach, Freund! Ein dfister Wolkenschatten geht fiber

mein Leben hin! Glaubst du nicht, dafi es einer

armen unschuldigen Melodie, welche keinen - keinen

Platz auf der Erde begehrt, vergfinnt sein dfirfte,

frei und harmlos durch den weiten Himmelsraum zu
ziehen? (2!, I, 356)

Thus the greatest danger for Kreisler lies, not

in his excursions into phantasy on the tones of his

1146
music, but rather in the possibility that his naiveté
in the face of the wrenching separation from the "real"
world will prevent his ever returning to try to communi-
cate with others. This is his continuing problem. A
central theme in all of Hoffmann's artist-stories, the
problem of the artist in Philistine society torments
Johannes Kreisler wherever he appears. Although this dis-
cussion and analysis of the figure follows the course of
his life as he proceeds along the circular path'taken by
the hero of the myth, the question of his return and
ability to communicate with the every-day world will

remain unanswered, leaving the circle open at that point.

A. The Birth Motifs.

The contrast of Tomcat Murr's autobiography with
the biography of Johannes Kreisler in Kater Murr best
reveals the motifs. Set in the irony of the Tomcat's
pseudo-heroism as contrasted with Kreisler's genuinely
artistic soul, the truly heroic birth of the Kapellmeister
is implied through Murr's boorish boasting. Whereas
Kreisler's heroic calling, his inner urging, is genuine
and profound, Murr's reference to his fabricated origins
is mendacious and condescendingly arrogant. The inanity
of Murr's pretense evokes the image of Kreisler's genu-
ineness, and one sees through the cheap veneer to the

real, heroic birth. First, Murr meets a female cat and

\'

 

1117

learns that she is his mother. Their ensuing conver-
sation alludes to the motifs of the virgin birth: "Ja,
du bist mein guter Sohn, den ich ohne sonderliche
Schmerzen geborenl"; the royal father-figure: "Dein

Vater hatte einen sehr vornehmen Anstand, auf seiner

 

Stirne lag eine imponierende Wfirde . . ."; the threaten-
ing authority-figure: "Kaum warst du geboren, als dein
Vater den unseligen Appetit bekam, dich . . . zu ver-
speisen . . ."; the concealed place of birth: ". . . du
wfirest ganz gewiss gefressen werden von dem blutdfirstigen

Tyrann, hfitte ich nicht, bald hier, bald dort hinfliehend

in Keller, Boden, Stfille, dich den Verfolgungen des un-

 

natfirlichen Barbaren entzogen."; abandonment in water:
"Als ich von einem kleinen Spaziergang einst heimkehrte,
weg warst du samt deinem Geschwister! Ein altes Weib
hatte mich Tages zuvor in meinem Schlupfwinkel entdeckt
und allerlei verffingliche Worte von ins Wasser werfen

. . . gesprochen." (2W, IX, h3-hh)

The empty Philistinism of Murr's autobiography
reflects the conventional society in which Hoffmann-
Kreisler has such difficulty existing. The heroic birth
of a cat is funny, but meaningless. The lack of depth
so apparent in Murr's narrative anticipates the arrival
of one whose vision goes deeper than the surface
realities of the Tomcat's world. At another point in

the novel, Hoffmann decries the empty testimonies to

1148

banal pedagogical experimentation to which the belief
in man's inner world has yielded. Only the artist and
the scholar are able to mediate between inner and outer
realities, but this fact has been lost in modern times.
The expression of the need for a heroic figure to appear
and provide such insight and mediation is an allusion to
the task of the hero to awaken the soul to its "celestial
origin."u2 Implicit in the allusion, then, is the proph-
ecy of the hero's birth. The hero is chosen from on
high; he can't be manufactured like the Professor's
hypothesized hero of the arts and sciences in the follow-
ing conversation between him and Meister Abraham:

'Sagt mir,‘ begann der Professor, . . . was haltet

Ihr von dem Grundsatz, daB, . . . ohne Rficksicht auf

angeborne geistige Ffihigkeit, auf Talent, auf Genie,

vermfige einer besonders geregelten Erziehung aus
jedem Kind in kurzer Zeit, . . . ein Heros in Wissen-

schaft und Kunst geschaffen werden kann?’ 'Wer wird
aber jemals solch einen . . . Jungen einen Gelehrten
im echten Sinne des Wortes nennen?' 'Die Welt, . . .

die ganze Welt: 0, es ist entsetzlich! Aller Glaube
an die innere, hfihere angeborne Geisteskraft, die
allein nur den Gelehrten, den Kfinstler schafft, geht
ja fiber jenen heillosen tollen Grundsatz zum Teufel.
(21’. IX. 7h)

Kreisler's birth conforms to neither the ordered,
synthetic, "practical" creative process of the Professor's
pedagogues, nor to the bathos of Murr's inflated nar-
rative. His birth is humorous, though, and in its humor
lies the essence of the motif. As with the birth of
any hero, from folk to cosmic, the question of the con-

ventional or historical truth of his birth pales in the

 

 

1&9

light of its doctrinaire or symbolic meaning; thus its

'43

aspect is unusual, sometimes even humorous. The humor
of Kreisler's birth is generated by its incongruity.
Because he is not really of this world, his first appear-
ance is as incongruous as his whole life. Consequently,
the world does not understand what his birth signifies;
it does not grasp the soteriological clues.uu The first
one is the date itself. Johannes is born on the 24“
of January, the same day as John Chrysostomus.
Chrysostomus was a nonconforming Church radical whose
famed eloquence points to Kreisler's musical ability.]45
The clue is their mutual ability to give expression to
transcendental concepts. Johannes cites the birth date
himself: "Am Tage Johannes Chrysostomi, . . . um die
Mittagsstunde, wurde einer geboren, der hatte ein Gesicht
und Hfinde und Ffisse." This is the humor of his birth,
for the incidents that immediately follow imply that
face, hands and feet are the only things Johannes will
have in common with the rest of humanity. The confusion
which follows his birth springs the strings of the lute -
and of conventional behavior — and marks Kreisler's
apartness:

Der Vater aB eben Erbsensuppe und gofl sich vor Freuden

einen ganzen Lfiffel voll fiber den Bart, worfiber die

Wfichnerin, unerachtet sie es nicht gesehen, dermapen

lachte, daB von der Erschfitterung dem Lautenisten,

der dem Sfiugling seinen neuesten Murki vorspielte,

alle Saiten sprangen und er bei der atlasnen
Nachthaube seiner GroBmutter schwor, was Musik

 

 

150

betreffe, wfirde der kleine Hans Hase ein elender
Stfimper bleiben ewiglich und immerdar. Darauf wischte
sich aber der Vater das Kinn rein und sprach pathetisch:
'Johannes soll er zwar heiBen, jedoch kein Hase sein.’
(2!: 1x, 814)

The difficulty the world has accommodating itself
to Kreisler even at his birth points ahead to the dif-
ficulties he himself will have in society. This is evi-
dence even at the beginning of Kater Murr of the arche-
typal theme of the myth, which stays the same even when
it degenerates into epic legend, romance, or ballad. The
difficulties Johannes will have can be compared to the
trials of the archetypal initiate on his way to the
"center." The settings, costumes, mannerisms, speech
and characters change, but the theme always remains the
same.“6 The unusual aspects of Johannes Kreisler's birth
show him to be another form of this "archetypal initiate"

just beginning his search for paradise, which is the

unchangeable theme.

B. The Childhood.

The hero's childhood contact with the seed powers,
spoken of so frequently in this paper, brings him under
the spell of the archetypes and compells him to yield
to the richer and fuller life-meaning they reveal to
him. The archetypes exert an irresistable influence on
even those who think they are far beyond such inner

experiences. The hero personifies, of course, such an

151

experience, an experience which can be either healing or

#7

destructive, but never ambiguous. Whether the experi-
ence is healing or destructive for Kreisler is moot at

this point in our discussion, but it is very real for

him. In Kater Murr the Privy Councilor asks Johannes

 

for some biographical details, and alludes to the mys-

terious forces which affected Kreisler's psyche earlier -

forces first appearing to the hero during his childhood:
'Und nebenher muBt du es dir, da du nun einmal seltsam
genug auftrittst, gefallen lassen, daB jeder glaubt,
nur das bunteste Leben, eine Reihe der fabelhaftesten
Ereignisse kfinne die psychische Form so auskneten und
bilden, wie es bei dir geschehen.‘ (2E, IX, 85)

It is to these experiences that Kreisler retreats
when he wants to escape the artificiality of the objective
world. Earlier, the Councilor, Meister Abraham and
Kreisler had been listening to a young officer read
selections of his poetry. The apparent plagiarism and
otherwise superficiality of the work was almost unbear-
able, and Johannes escaped by invoking images from his
childhood. The images are clearly images of archetypes;
the unexpressible yearning for the transcendent place
already at age 12 shows Kreisler in contact with these
powers:

Wenn du aber meinst, daB ich des Leutnants Leserei
ruhig angehfirt, so bist du in groBem Irrtum! - Der
Sturm war vorfiber, . . . Ich stellte mich unter den
grofien blfihenden Apfelbaum und horchte auf die
verhallende Stimme des Donners in den fernen Bergen,

die wie eine Weissagung, von unaussprechlichen Dingen
in meiner Seele widerklang, und schaute auf zu dem

 

152
Blau des Himmels, das wie mit leuchtenden Augen dort
und dort durch die fliehenden Wolken blickte! . . .
Ich stand wirklich, ein Junge von hfichstens zwfilf
Jahren, in des Onkels kleinem Garten . . . (3!, IX,
82-83)

D. H. Lawrence believed that the hero is more fully
alive because he is sensitive to the non-human cosmos as
well as to the world around him.“8 Kreisler, as shown
by the above passages, is also alive to the cosmos in
this sense, but he is g2 alive to it, that he seems dead
to the objective world. This is his continuing problem.
Kreisler relates his expression of childhood grief over
the death of an aunt, and shows that, at this time during
his childhood, he completely withdrew from the physical
world. In a state of catalepsy, Kreisler's complete
unresponsiveness to external stimuli suggests the hero's
mythical regression to the formlessness of pre-existence

in preparation for his reemergence as a repetition of

the first act of creation:

. . . diese stille Trauer der sonst zu den lebhaftesten

Ausbrfichen geneigten Kindes (hatte) etwas unbeschrei-
blich Rfihrendes gehabt, und daB man selbst einen
nachteiligen psychischen EinfluB geffirchtet, da ich
mehrere Wochen in demselben Zustande geblieben, nicht
weinend, nicht lachend, zu keinem Spiel aufgelegt,
kein freundlich Wort erwidernd, nichts um mich her
beachtend. (31, IX, 88)

In "Nachricht von den neuesten Schicksalen des
Hundes Berganza" (2!, I, 90-l6h), Kapellmeister Kreisler
appears as one of Berganza's former masters. The alien-

ation from the world described above is exhibited here,

153

also. However, the futility of trying to communicate the
knowledge of the seed powers to others, symbolized in the
rigid posture above, is ironically, not the hero's alien-
ation, but that of those who are deaf to the communication.
Berganza, referring to Novalis, describes the true poet
by his insight into nature and by his mission to share
this insight with other men, implying that those who are
unable to grasp the message are the alienated ones. To
them, nature is unyielding and unresponsive, like Johan-
nes above.
Ebenso weiB ich recht gut, dap man ihm (Novalis)
Unverstfindlichkeit und Schwulst vorwarf, unerachtet
es zu seinem Verstfindnis nur daruf ankam, mit ihm in
die tiefsten Tiefen hinabzusteigen und wie aus einem
in Ewigkeit ergiebigen Schacht die wundervollen
Kombinationen, womit die Natur alle Erscheinungen in
ein Ganzes verknfipft, heraufzubergen, wozu denn freilich
den mehrsten es an innerer Kraft und an Mut mangelte.
(H. I. 159-160)

The hero-artist's child-like naiveté is the most
important aspect of this motif of the myth. Kreisler has
an artistic soul whose very essence is just this naiveté
in the face of the real world. Schelling's theory, as
interpreted by Schubert through legends, myths and visions,
that only the intuition of the artist could perceive the
absolute in nature, became Hoffmann's concept of the ar-
tistic soul. The artist revealed the harmony of nature
and spirit in his creations. This state of harmony is
the first and third stage of Hoffmann's theory of human

’49

progress, which he borrowed from Schubert. The

15h

Philistine lives in the second epoch. And the smug
Philistine even lives a happy life, blissfully ignorant
of any other reality. To him, then, the personality
of a Johannes Kreisler appears naive in the extreme. But
to Kreisler himself, and to those who might understand
him and poets like Novalis, his naiveté is a sublime,
noble part of his heritage. He is born _2 it to his own
great advantage, for it refuses to take the dualism of
life seriously. Explaining this, Berganza describes a
depiction of the birth of Shakespeare, another artist-
hero, and shows how nature's seeming contrariness re-
conciles with the naive artistic soul of a Novalis.
Das erste Blatt . . . stellte Shakespeares Geburt vor.
Mit ernster hoher Stirn, mit hellen klaren Augen um
sich schauend, liegt der Knabe in der Mitte, um ihn
die Leidenschaften, ihm dienend; -die Furcht, die
Verzweiflung, die Angst, das Entsetzen schmiegen,
grfiBlich gestaltet, sich willig dem Kinde und scheinen
auf seinen ersten Laut zu horchen.
Ich. Aber die Deutung auf unsere Dichter?
Berganza. Kann man nicht ohne allen Zwang jenes Bild
so deuten: 'Sehet, wie dem kindlichen Gemfite die Natur
in allen ihrer Erscheinungen unterworfen, wie selbst
das Furchtbare, das Entsetzliche sich seinem Willen und
seinem Worte schmiegt, und erkennt, daB nur ihm diese
zauberische Macht verstattet? (2E, I, 160-161)
Finally, for Kreisler, contact with the other realm
means immersion in the world of music. Music is the idiom
of his expression, wherever he appears. As the language
in which Johannes tries to communicate transcendental

ideas, its conception here is a direct reflection of

Hoffmann's. Hoffmann saw in music the vehicle to "

 

 

 

155

the creative forces at the center of the universe . . ."

"50 The Romanti-

To him the world was "embodied music.
cists all thought that music revealed certain metaphysical
truths, and so to them a profound knowledge of music
meant a knowledge of the secrets of the universe; ". . . it
is the musician who holds in his hand the key to the
meaning of God, of man, of life."51 This makes the
musician-composer a hero.
Appropriately, Kreisler's most significant helper

is Meister Abraham, an organ-builder and master of the
occult, in general. Meister Abraham calls Johannes to
his true mission. He personifies the seed powers who
appear early in the hero's childhood. In fact, the entire
environment of Kreisler's upbringing seems suspended from
real time, set as it is in the phantastic town of
Gfinifinesmfihl. Abraham lives here, too, and the peculiar
relationship which forms between Johannes and Meister
Abraham in this town of eccentric characters, is like
the affinity of the emissary from the other realm for
the hero of the myth. He sets the hero in motion towards
his goal. In this passage the hero is isolated from men -
the obscure upbringing - and in contact with mysterious
figures, the most important one being Abraham:

Ffirs erste ist gar nicht daran zu zweifeln, dafi zu

Gfinifinesmfihl, wo Johannes Kreisler geboren und erzogen

wurde, es einen Mann gab, der in seinem ganzen Wesen,

in allem, was er unternahm, seltsam und eigentfimlich
erschien. Uberhaupt ist das Stfidtlein Gfinifinesmfihl

156
seit jeher das wahre Paradies aller Sonderlinge
gewesen, und Kreisler wuchs auf, umgeben von den
seltsamsten Figuren, die einen desto stfirkern Eindruck
auf ihn machen muBten, als er wenigstens wfihrend
der Knabenzeit mit seinesgleichen keinen Umgang
pflegte. (_P_W_, 1x, 106)

It is very definitely Meister Abraham who prepares
Johannes for his "adventure" into the other realm. He is
the catalyst for the activization of Kreisler's soul.

He cultivates in Johannes the humor of the knowledge of
the irony of life, the irony that dualism is in truth
only a limited manifestation of the oneness of the universe.
The reader knows that the gaining of such knowledge is
the mission of the hero of the myth, a mission realized
by Kreisler through his music:
Zu leugnen ist aber auch nicht, dafi der wunderliche
Orgelbauer recht dazu geeignet war, den Keim des
tiefen Humors, der in des Knaben Innern lag, zu hegen

und zu pflegen, der denn auch sattsam gedieh und
emporwuchs. (2!, IX, 110)

C. The Adventure.

The threat to self-preservation implicit in the
violation of the taboos at the threshhold was a very real
one for Hoffmann. The possibility that knowledge of the
unconscious might be a revelation of evil found poetic
expression in many of his stories in which heroes dis-

52

appear, never to return. Kreisler suffers this anxiety
also. Johannes's fear of such inner forces is known to

Meister Abraham, who exhorts him to control the fire of

his creativity. Just as fire can symbolize the

157

instrument of spiritual purification in the myth, so for
Kreisler fire is the creative heat of the artist, the
heat that burns away self-deception to reveal life's
secrets. But Kreisler cannot control his fire. This
gives it the evil aspect feared by Hoffmann, for such an
uncontrolled inner force becomes destructive. Kenneth
Negus sees two opposing forces at work here: "the dis-
ciplined and creative versus the uncontrollably impas-

"53

sioned and destructive. In Kreisler's case, then,
like the hero of the composite Pattern, violation of the

taboos at the entrance to the unconscious, or to the

higher realms, might mean oblivion. Meister Abraham,

master of fire and thus of'ihe disciplined and creative,"

proves his insight into this threat to Kreisler's exis-
tence. He knows that Kreisler has already violated the
taboo of the threshhold; he has already gone beyond the
"norms" of objective reality. He knows that he must
help Johannes bring the released forces under control.
80 he organizes a festival at court, ostensibly for the

Princess's name-day, but really for Kreisler and Julia,

the feminine ideal of Kreisler's life. Abraham's purpose

links the two identities inextricably and shows him

5h

trying to help Johannes overcome the threat of the taboos.

Unfortunately, Kreisler did not attend the festival:

'Erfahre es jetzt, Johannes, ich habe tief in dein
Inneres geschaut und das geffihrliche-bedrohliche

Geheimnis erkannt . . . Mit jenem Fest, dessen tieferer

 

 

158
Sinn nicht die Ffirstin sondern eine andere geliebte
Person und dich selbst traf, wollte ich dein ganzes
Ich gewaltsam erfassen . . . (2!, IX, 16)

Abraham therewith gives expression to the call and
throws down one of the first challenges of the "adventure."
Kreisler must respond, or die to himself, never to return:
"Wie einem zum Tode Siechen sollte Arznei, dem Orkus
selbst entnommen . . . dir den Tod bereiten oder Genesung!"
And Genesung means for Johannes, as for the hero of the
myth, union with the maiden: "Wisse Johannes, daB der
Ffirstin Namenstag zusammentrifft mit dem Namenstag Julias,
die auch, wie sie, Maria geheifien.'" (2E, IX, 16)

Johannes responds to this call with emotion. The
fire of his outburst reveals the very real effectiveness
of Abraham as helper and spiritual guide:

'Hal' rief Kreisler, indem er, zehrendes Feuer im

Blick, aufsprang, 'Hal Meister! is dir die macht gegeben,
mit mir freches hfihnendes Spiel zu treiben? Bist du

das Verhfingnis selbst, daB du mein Inneres erfassen
magst?‘ (33, IX, 16)

In answer to this, Abraham states the nature of
the challenge facing Johannes, a challenge of self, just
as the Pattern indicates. Here, mastery over self is
expressed as mastery over fire, appropriate to the figure
of Abraham, and appropriate to the symbology of the myth,
where fire means spiritual purification.

'Wilder, unbesonnener Mensch . . . wann wird endlich
der verwfistende Brand in deiner Brust zur reinen
Napthaflamme werden, genfihrt von dem tiefsten Sinn ffir

die Kunst, ffir alles Herrliche und Schfine, der in dir
wohntl' (2!: IX, 16)

159

Meister Abraham touches here upon the mission of
the here as artist. Through his art, the artist mediates
". . . between ourselves and the eternal universe. Our
only really clear sense of the universe is through art."55
If Johannes cannot comply with Abraham's admonition above,
then he forfeits his heroic potential to the forces of
chaos, and loses his chance to mediate between man and
the universe. This relationship of the artist to social
reality is Hoffmann's central problem, from his first
real literary effort, Ritter Gluck, on through most of
the rest of his work. The two main motifs present in
Q1395, the musical expression of another world and the
hero's obsession with music to the exclusion of all else,
are obvious in the problematic of the figure of Johannes
Kreisler. First, Johannes's "adventure" to the higher
world is an expression of his music. Second, his complete
obsession with music has alienated him from social reality.
For Johannes to carry out his heroic mission, he must
remain aware of the disparity and duplicity of the dream
world and the real world. His real problem, which Meister
Abraham recognizes, is his too deep immersion into a
musical world of dreams, a condition which blunts and

56

even destroys creativity. This world of dreams must be
traversed before the artist-hero can reach the musical

world of truth and light. The world of dreams is frought

with monsters and demons and is perilous indeed. Just as

 

 

160
in the myth of the hero, so in Hoffmann's myth the artist
can be destroyed by these monsters. In Kreisler's case,
his insanity signals his destruction in this world.
Abraham sees at the outset that Kreisler is sinking into

57

this sort of oblivion from which he may well never return.

 

Meister Abraham understands that true knowledge of
both worlds lies in recognizing the duplicity of all life.
In this indirect manner Hoffmann represented his per-
ception of the unity of all being, but his perception
had always to remain distorted because of human limitations.
When he confronted the everyday world with the mythical
world, a tension arose which can be described as

58

grotesque. Such grotesqueness reveals a vision, albeit
blurred, of the other world, since the perceiver, through
his perception of the tension between the two worlds,
acknowledges the truth of both.

But the problem always remains to integrate the two
worlds. Eliade writes that man can integrate himself
into the total, living universe if he can unite in him-
self the powers of the sun and the moon, representing
the two rhythms of life. If he can do this, he unites
himself with the time of undifferentiated oneness and
transcends the dualism of life. His comment on the
magic power of letters and sounds to effect such a union

points to Kreisler's music. His music could carry him

back and forth between the two worlds, if he were able

161

to control the consuming fire, for

By taking to himself the powers that lie hidden in

'letters' and 'sounds,' man places himself in various

central points of cosmic energy and thus effects

complete harmony between himself and all that is.

'Letters and sounds' do the work of images, making

it possible, by contemplation or by magic, to pass

from one cosmic level to another.59

The challenge implicit in all of the preceding dis-

cussion comes from the other realm. As pointed out
above, it receives its most direct expression through
Meister Abraham. The relationship between Kreisler and
Abraham is like that of Anselmus and Lindhorst in Der
Goldne Topf. It is "almost filial."6O The intimate
connection of the higher realm to Kreisler through
Abraham is substantial enough proof of Kreisler's calling
and his heroic potential. The challenge he faces in
Meister Abraham's exhortations above is a directive from
the source beyond social reality. Abraham has appeared
to others as a person from another place. His relation-
ship with the pseudo-court and Prince Irenaus's family
shows this to be true. Having once stood in the confi-
dence of Irenfius's father, Abraham is called back to the
court by the Prince, where his behavior once again implies
that of a being from another world:

Dann hatte auch das Ansehen, in dem Meister Abraham

bei dem Vater stand, tiefe Wurzel gefaflt in dem

Gemfit des jungen Ffirsten. Es gab Augenblicke, in

denen dem Ffirsten Irenfius zumute wurde, als sei Meister

Abraham ein fiberirdisches Wesen, fiber alles, was

menschlich, erhaben, stehe es auch noch so hoch.
(.1331. xx, 111)

162

The setting for Kreisler's "adventure" is vague and
undefined, for it transpires within and through music -
the ethereal nature of which suggests a non-objective
setting. As Eliade says of the ritual act of rebirth
and access to a new mode of existence, it is ". . .
oriented toward the values of the spirit, not behaviour
from the realm of psycho-physiological activity."61

Kreisler's music is oriented in this direction; it has

the power to lift him above the limitations and burdens

 

of the psyche and body:

Nur einen Engel des Lichts gibt es, der Macht hat
fiber den bfisen D5mon. Es ist der Geist der Tonkunst,
der oft aus mir selbst sich siegreich erhebt, und vor
dessen mfichtiger Stimme alle Schmerzen irdischer
Bedrfingnis verstummen. (21, IX, 69)

In Kater Murr, Kreisler's hurried departure from

 

the Residence, where he held the position of Kapellmeister
to the Grand-Duke, and his sudden arrival at Siegwart-
sweiler and the court of Prince Irenfius, is an image of
the journey of the Pattern. But, as stated above, the
physical surroundings serve only as reliefs from which
Johannes projects his longing "to escape the round"

and enter the world of spirit.62 His name, as the identi-
fication of his physical being, signifies the circular
enclosure in which the physical can imprison the spiritual.
His desire to escape is the hero's awareness of his

calling:

163

Sie kfinnen nicht wegkommen von dem Worte Kreis, und

der Himmel gebe, daB Sie denn gleich an die wunder-
baren Kreise denken mfigen, in denen sich unser ganzes
Sein bewegt, und aus denen wir nicht herauskommen
kfinnen . . . In diesen Kreisen kreiselt sich der
Kreisler, und wohl mag es sein, daB er oft, ermfidet von
den Sprfingen des St. -Veits -Tanzes, zu dem er gezwungen,
rechtend mit der dunklen unerforschlichen Macht, die
jene Kreise umschrieb, sich mehr als es einem Magen,
der ohnedies nur schwfichlicher Konstitution, zusagt,
hinaussehnt ins Freie. (21, IX, 64-65)

This archetypal yearning is the statement of
Kreisler's "adventure." The battles he encounters are
varying images of the problem of the artist in Hoffmann.
As the here knows of the other world, so Kreisler per-
ceives his existence in a transcendental world expressed
and held together by music. That the hero - and the
artist - are conditioned by their connection to social
reality - or, in Kreisler-Hoffmann's case, Philistine
society - is the central problem for both.63 The contrast
between the two worlds is painfully apparent to Johannes,
as the description of his duties as Kapellmeister to the
Grand-Duke indicates:

Erlassen Sie mir die Schilderung, wie ich durch fade
Spielerei mit der heiligen Kunst, zu der ich
notgedrungen die Hand bieten muBte, durch die
Albernheiten seelenloser Kunstpfuscher, abge-
schmackter Dilettanten, durch das ganze tolle
Treiben einer Welt voll Kunst-Gliederpuppen immer
mehr und mehr dahin gebracht wurde, die erbfirmliche
Nichtswfirdigkeit meiner Existenz einzusehen.

(21!. IX. 70)

But when his demon threatens to crush him into the

nothingness of this Philistine world, the maiden appears

16h

6A
with all the promise of release connoted by the myth.

For Kreisler, she must appear as a personification of
music, and the knowledge of her song would be the hero's
knowledge of the dimension beyond death which has been
called hierophonic time. The images of youth and eternal
love evoked by the anima in the following passage ex-
press Johannes Kreisler's spiritual adventure, " . . .
the exposure of his consciousness to the undefined and
the indefinable":
Schadenfroh trachtete der Damon eben das tiefste
Geheimnis meiner Brust zuschanden zu machen, da rfihrte
der mfichtige Geist der Tonkunst die Schwingen, und
vor dem melodischen Rauschen erwachte der Trost, die
Hoffnung, ja selbst die Sehnsucht, die die unvergfing-
liche Liebe selbst ist und das Entzficken ewiger
Jugend. - Julia sang: (31, IX, 72)
Kreisler's music carries him beyond objectivity
to a secret world hidden in the most profound reaches
of the human spirit. As Schlegel's new mythology was to
emanate ". . . aus der tiefsten Tiefe des Geistes . . .",65
so Hoffmann-Kreisler's music flowed from the paradisical
Urguelle of his spirit as it awakened to Julia's song.
He perceives her voice ". . . wie einen Lichtstrahl, der
durch finstere Wolken bricht." (2E, IX, 130) She is to
him ". . . wie ein Engel des Lichts, da sie vermochte,
(ihm) das Paradies zu erschlieBen." (2E, IX, 129) But
unlike the fulfilled hero of myth, Kreisler shows little

interest in sustaining efforts to enlighten his less per-

ceptive fellows. He reaches so far out into the other

 

mentioned. It appears several times throughout his

existence. In Kater Murr, for instance, Johannes and

 

Julia's singing is so far removed from the commonplace

165

dimension of his music that he loses sight of the real

world below. This is an aspect of his problem already

that those present are disturbed and at a loss to under— r-

stand:

‘i-A .. I

. . . aber ist es recht, . . . daB man im
gemfitlichen Zirkel . . . extravagante Sachen
auftischt, die das Innere Zerschneiden, deren
gewaltsam zerstorenden Eindruck man nicht verwinden
kann? (1331, IX, 131-32) at.

 

But Kreisler refuses to recognize the connection
his musical "adventure" has to the social reality around
him. This reality threatens him with insanity. Instead
of trying to reconcile the two worlds, Kreisler uses
irony to defend himself against the threat. He distances
himself from those who do not understand him and, through
his sarcasm, precludes the possibility of ever realizing
his heroic potential to mediate between the two worlds.
Replying to the passage above, which is the Princess's
request to Kreisler and Julia to sing some lighter
selections, Kreisler becomes almost bitterly ironic:

'O Gott, gnfidigste Prinzessin! wie ganz bin ich
firmster Kapellmeister Ihrer gfitigen gnfidigen Meinung!
Ist es nicht gegen alle Sitte und Kleiderordnung,

die Brust mit all der Wehmut, mit all dem Schmerz,
mit all dem Entzficken, das darin verschlossen, anders

in die Gesellschaft zu tragen, als dick verhfillt mit

dem Fichu vortrefflicher Artigkeit und Konvenienz?’
(.1311. IX. 132)

166

Even when Johannes acknowledges the effect his

music has had on the gathering:

Taugen denn alle Lfischanstalten, die der gute Ton
fiberall bereitet, . . . sind sie wohl hinlfinglich,
um das Naphthafeuer zu dfimpfen, das hie und da
hervorlodern will? Spfilt man noch so viel Tee,
noch so viel Zuckerwasser, noch so viel honettes
Gesprfich, ja noch so viel angenehmes Dudeldumdei
hinunter, doch gelingt es diesem, jenem freveligen
Mordbrenner, eine Congrevische Rakete ins Innere zu
werfen, und die Flamme leuchtet empor, leuchtet und
brennt sogar, welches dem puren Mondschein niemals
geschieht! (2!, IX, 132)

-he nevertheless mockingly intones the Philistine's
incorrigible inability to understand its deeper meaning.
Instead of patiently trying to communicate his insight,
he accedes to their demands for more superficial music:

Teuerste, holdseligste Julia: Erbarmen Sie sich der
hochverehrten Gesellschaft, giefien Sie Trost in die
hoffnungslosen Gemfiter . . . Tun Sie es nicht, so
bleibt mir nichts fibrig, als mich hier vor Ihren . . .
Augen hinabzustfirzen in die Verzweiflung . . .

(21. IX. 133)

But Julia, as is to be expected in her role as the
maid of the myth, as Kreisler's positive anima who knows
the truth of his being - Julia refuses even to feign the
motions of social convention. She implies that it would
be better to continue trying to convey the truth of his
music, or stop entirely:

'Ach,' sprach Julia, 'ach, Kapellmeister, ich kann
mich nun einmal in Ihre seltsame Launen . . . gar
nicht darin finden! Dieser Todessprung von einem
Extrem zum andern zerschneidet mir die Brust! Ich
bitte Sie, lieber Kreisler, verlangen Sie nicht mehr,

daB ich mit tief bewegtem Gemfit, wenn noch die Tfine
der tiefsten Wehmut widerklingen in meinem Innern,

167
daB ich dann Komisches singe, sei es auch noch so
artig und hfibsch. Ich weiB es - ich vermag es, ich
setze es durch, aber es macht mich ganz matt und
krank.‘ (g1, Ix, 133-3u)

So it is clear that Johannes, in the surroundings
where he could exercise his greatest influence, in
Philistine society, refuses the call to return and con-
tinues on his solitary "adventure" into the realm of
music. As a result, he becomes more and more alienated
from social reality. He becomes a musically-gifted
Serapion, obsessed with the expression of his gift, but
blind to the reality from which it springs and to which
it must remain attached if it is to have meaning beyond
himself.66 As his attitude of irony vis-a-vis social
reality deepens, so does his feeling of insanity:67
"Von jeher hatte er die fixe Idee, dafl der Wahnsinn auf
ihn lauere, wie ein nach Beute lechzendes Raubtier, und
ihn einmal plfitzlich zerfleischen werde." (2!, IX, lh9)

Kreisler's insanity proves his heroism, both in
terms of the myth and of Hoffmann's conception of heroic
insight into the truths of existence. No German writer
devoted himself more to the workings of the aberrant
mind than did Hoffmann. He was convinced that individ-
uals in such states could see truths of existence that
"normal" men could not see. His knowledge of Schelling's

epistemology reinforced this view. Schelling said that

in moments of deep introspection man can approach God,

168

the Absolute or the Universal-Unconscious and realize,
albeit dimly, the time when man was at one with all men
and with nature. The real purpose of life is to regain
this lost state of innocence. The means to carry out
this mission are visions of "disembodied, unearthly states
. . . (and) . . . the miracles of art . . ."68
To normal men, such deep introspection can appear
as catalepsy, a state of withdrawal known by Kreisler
already in his childhood. Kreisler's irony is another
expression of this withdrawal, and his music invokes
Schelling's visions of disembodied, unearthly states.
The timelessness of this concept of a higher level of
reality is reflected in ancient New Year rites, where
the participants expressed a yearning for the bliss of an
existential state that "preceded the human condition."
The complete and total destruction of the existing world
was required to reach this state, for ". . . every es-
chatology insists on this fact: the New Creation cannot
take place before this world is abolished once and for

all. "69

Kreisler's music is this state. In his almost
psychedelic experience of music's own reality, he effec-
tively abolishes the existing world and suggests the full
existential awareness implied by Schelling's epistemology,

sought by Hoffmann's study of the aberrant mind and

personified by the hero of the myth. The image of the

 

 

169

released anima, the rescued maiden, appropriately arises

out of the hero's full knowledge of the spirit of music:
Ich sah den Stein - seine roten Adern gingen auf wie
dunkle Nelken, deren Dfifte sichtbarlich in hellen
tfinenden Strahlen emporfuhren. In den langen
anschwellenden Tfinen der Nachtigall verdichteten sich
die Strahlen zur Gestalt eines wundervollen Weibes,
aber die Gestalt war wieder himmlische, herrliche
Musik: (£11, I, 388)

If Hoffmann's artists swang out on the tonal wings
of their aeolian harps into a musical paradise whose
shimmering frontiers were far beyond the reach of social
reality, his concept of art insisted on and maintained
a connection between the two worlds. The truly great
artist had the self-possession necessary to integrate
the feelings and phantasies of music with conscious real-
ity. For Hoffmann, then, it was not his creation
Johannes Kreisler, but rather a Beethoven who personified
what the myth presents as the fulfilled hero - one who
stands over men secure in his knowledge that there is no
real conflict between the world and art. Taylor states
the heroic conception Hoffmann held of Beethoven, by
referring to one of the classic heroes of myth: "In this
Promethean figure Hoffmann found and proclaimed the
triumphant resolution of the conflicts within the artist,
the source of true artistic genius, the transcendental
nature and meaning of great art."70 The lack of Beetho-

vian will to integrate the two worlds is Kreisler's

great failing. It does not detract from his heroic

 

 

170

potential, but it does prevent him from crossing the
last obstacle and effecting the final release of the
maiden. In his naive, seemingly aimless wandering
through the musical realm of his experience, Kreisler
anticipates the modern-day Knulps, Einharts and Quints
who, in their self-imposed isolation in "nature" and
"love," ignore the legitimate need to achieve a new
synthesis out of the tensions and discrepancies between
the technological world and the world of nature.71
Meister Abraham points this out to Kreisler:

Immer hat es das Schicksal mit Euch gut gemeint, aber

dafl Ihr nun einmal nicht im gewfihnlichen Trott

bleiben kfinnt, dafl Ihr rechts, links herausspringt

aus dem Wege, daran ist niemand schuld als Ihr

selbst. (31, IX, 98)

On his "adventure," Kreisler's experience of the

objective Absolute is always suspended from reality
and therefore cannot be considered a state of existential
harmony. The heroic vibrations which hold men together
do not issue from Johannes Kreisler's personality,72
otherwise he would ultimately not be judged mad or at
least highly eccentric by his fellows, and Kater Murr
itself, fragmentary like Hoffmann's other artists stories,
would probably be complete. Seen against an objective
setting, Kreisler's perception of the higher world is
always from the point of his awareness of life's dis-

parities and incongruities.73’ This view surfaces as his

ironic humor, which most of his fellows interpret as

171

eccentricity. Thus he can never hope to integrate their
reality with his. Only Julia, appropriately sees past
Kreisler's idiosyncracies into his soul and knows that
his eccentric behavior is really society's misinterpre-
tation of a profound awareness:
Ich erkannte Kreislern, und indem ich fiber sein
Beginnen herzlich lachen muBte, kam er mir vor wie
der wohltfitige Geist, der mich schfitzen wfirde . . . Ja,
es war, als wfirde mir jetzt erst Kreislers inneres
Wesen recht klar, und ich sfihe jetzt erst ein, wie
sein schalkisch scheinender Humor, von dem mancher
sich oft verwundet ffihle, aus dem treuesten herrlichsten
Gemfite komme. (2!, IX, 189)

Hoffmann's conception of music is the goal of
Kreisler's "adventure," and music is the "adventure"
itself. Even though Hoffmann was never able to reconcile
his knowledge of the transcendent world of music with
objective reality, he was able to approach the expression
of the higher world with one of the descriptive tools of
social reality, with connotative language; with words,

74

then, Hoffmann attempted to describe music. He viewed
instrumental music, for instance, as the most elevated
form of art: "Sie ist die romantischste aller Kfinste,
beinahe mfichte ich sagen, allein echt romantisch, denn nur
das Unendliche ist ihr Vorwurf." To Hoffmann, music was
both the expression and substance of the transcendent
place of the myth; the goal of the "adventure."

"Die Ahnung des Hfichsten und Heiligsten der geistigen

Macht, die den Lebensfunken in der ganzen Natur entzfindet,

spricht sich hfirbar aus im Ton . . ." He testifies to

172

the origins of music in rite and myth when he sets

its beginnings in religious cult: "Ihrem inneren,
eigentfimlichen Wesen nach ist daher die Musik . . .
religifiser Kultus und ihr Ursprung einzig und allein in
der Religion, in der Kirche zu suchen und zu finden."
Hoffmann believed that music permeated the universe,

that the ability to hear music emanating from objects

of nature was a sign of the individual's closeness to

the spirit of nature and the universe. Ronald Taylor has
formulated the most precise statement of Hoffmann's con-
ception of music and therewith the definition of Johannes
Kreisler's heroic insight and the goal of his "adventure."
His definition of music posits the same timeless dimen-
sion of existence as the myth of the hero, and so it is
quoted here at length:

Of all the arts music is the furthest removed from
material reality: its sounds, organized in a series
of relationships of consonance and dissonance, have

a private inner logic which owes nothing to the
public logic of rational experience, and are not
representative of objects or ideas. From one point
of view music creates, and lives in, its own world

of unreality, a world governed by arbitrary values
and beset with all the dangers which attend the con-
dition of isolationism. 0n the other hand it is to
this very detachment that music owes its supreme
quality of immediacy as a medium of human understand-
ing, for since it is not weighed down by the force

of association, or restricted by the pressure of
qualification and relativity, it extends - indeed, it
33, a direct experience of true, timeless reality,
which the representational arts, employing the finite
forms and language of human sense-perception and human
thought, can never offer.75

173

As mentioned above, Hoffmann-Kreisler also approaches
this dimension with language in efforts to describe the
meaning of music. A letter by Kreisler to himself,
quoted in part (above, p. 169 ) provides the frame for
the anecdote of the musical experience of Chrysostomus.
Chrysostomus tells the story of a demonic stranger who
visits the landlord's castle and makes the flesh of all
present creep with his weird stories and his dread-evoking
way of expressing uncanny things intelligibly without
using words. The stranger soon captivates the maiden.
They meet for musical trysts under the old tree, where at
night the strange and dreadful tones of the stranger's
voice could be heard. One morning both the stranger
and the girl were gone. A search turned up the girl's
bloody corpse and the stranger's lute, both buried under
a stone where the two were accustomed to meet. Since
then a nightingale sits on the tree and sings lays of
profound lament. Peculiar moss and plants grow out of
the blood found on the stone. Chrysostomus is strangely
drawn to the stone; he thinks he understands the symbolic
meaning of the configurations of the moss. His father's
and his music professor's attempts to give him formal
training in music seem to threaten his more profound
feeling for and understanding of it, but upon his return
from school as an adult young man, the sight of the stone

and the sound of the nightingale reawaken in him the

17h

dormant inner spirit of music. The sights of sounds and
the sounds of sights meld together into a symbol of all
there is to know, and Chrysostomus perceives the image
of woman in the spirit of music.

From this anecdote Kreisler draws inspiration and
reinforcement for his belief that music, resting in the
human breast, pervades all of nature and is the language
of the gods. As such, it is the most significant symbol
of heroic integration into the cosmos. Keeping in mind
the qualifications which must be applied to Kreisler's
heroism in the light of his imperfect relationship with
social reality as discussed above, the reader can still
conceive of the fulfillment of the heroic "adventure"
of the myth as the Kapellmeister, still in the letter to
himself, describes his own, albeit isolated, conception
of fulfillment in music:

So wfirden die plfitzlichen Anregungen des Musikers,
das Entstehen der Melodien im Innern, das bewuBtlose
oder vielmehr das in Worten nicht darzulegende Erkennen
und Auffassen der geheimen Musik der Natur als
Prinzip des Lebens oder alles Wirkens in demselben
sein . . . Mit der Erkenntnis steigt der innere Wille,
und mag der Musiker sich dann nicht zu der ihm
umgebenden Natur verhalten wie der Magnetiseur zur

Somnambule, indem sein lebhaftes Wollen die Frage ist,
welche die Natur nie unbeantwortet lfiBt? . . .

(.1211. I. 389)
In his self-admonition to continue the search for
knowledge, Kreisler places himself before the gates of

the temple of the Great Goddess Isis-Demeter, thus

175

signaling both the completion of the "adventure" and his
readiness to descend to the underworld. No matter what
name the goddess is called, her womb is the universal
womb of day and night. She is the great mother-goddess
who bears the world of life in the image of Demeter, and
the world of death, life's daughter, in the image of
Persephone. Awareness of the mystery beyond duality is
her knowledge, and her invocation here by Kreisler
implicitly raises the image of her ". . . ever-dying,
ever-living slain and resurrected son, Dionysus-Bacchus-
Zagreus . . ."76 The reader already knows this coinci-
dence of opposites to be the ultimate meaning of the
myth of the hero: "Mit diesen wenigen Sprfichen stelle ich
Dich nunmehr, lieber Johannes, an die Pforten des
Isistempels, damit Du fleiBig forschen mfigest." (BE, I,
390)77
Kreisler's readiness to consort with the Mothers
presupposes his rescuing and winning of the maiden, the
last aspect of the motif of the "adventure." He knows
the spiritual import of the artist's conception of love
as personified in the feminine image, but his ability to
express it is inadequate. Only a partial and incomplete
revelation of this is possible to objective reality.78
But for Kreisler himself, as a true artistic soul who

draws inspiration from the higher realms, the image of

the maiden is a fully integrated aspect of his own being:

176

Es begibt sich wohl, dafi besagten Musikanten
unsichtbare Hfinde urplfitzlich den Flor wegziehen,
der ihre Augen verhfillte, und sie erschauen, auf
Erden wandelnd, das Engelsbild, das, ein sfiBes
unerforschtes Geheimnis, schweigend ruhte in
ihrer Brust!

Her rescue releases the energy of spiritual re-
newal, but she must be won again and again, as the cycle
of the myth implies:

Und nun lodert auf in reinem Himmelsfeuer, das nur
leuchtet und wfirmt, ohne mit verderblichen Flammen

zu vernichten, alles Entzficken, alle namenlose Wonne
des Hfiheren, aus dem Innersten emporkeimenden Lebens,
und tausend Ffihlhbrner streckt der Geist aus in
brfinstigen Verlangen und umnetzt die, die er geschaut,
und hat sie und hat sie nie, da die Sehnsucht ewig
dfirstend fortlebt!

When the artist-hero knows her, he is able to per-
form the final and ultimate heroic mission, he is able
to mediate between man and the universe through his art:

Und sie, sie selbst ist es, die Herrliche, die zum

Leben gestaltete Ahnung, aus der Seele des Kfinstlers
hervorleuchtet als Gesang - Bild - Gedicht: (21, IX,

150-51)

Thus, Kreisler's innermost being is open to the
maiden. Julia and he complement and fulfill one another
in a personified image of the coincidence of opposites.
First, Julia struggles with her negative animus. Her
soul is in turmoil. Then Johannes appears to join with
her being in a love which quiets and goes beyond the
clash of opposing forces within. Describing a dream to
her mother, Julia describes images which are psychedelic

in their undefined mutual assimilation. She thinks she

177

is the melody she hears, and when the tone begins to fade,
she fears her own death. But then Kreisler appears to
her. Knowing her, he revives and rejuvenates her soul.
Forms then merge into a sphere of total being, as Kreisler's
words of comfort to Julia in her dream become a descrip-
tion of the archetypal yearning to return to the source,
where all forms are one:79
Da Gewahrte ich aber, daB ich selbst der Gesang sei,
der durch den Garten ziehe, doch so wie der Glanz
der Tfine verbleiche, mfisse ich auch vergehen in
schmerzlicher Wehmut! - Nun sprach aber eine sanfte
Stimme: 'Nein! Der Ton ist die Seligkeit und keine
Vernichtung, und ich halte dich fest mit starken Armen,
und in deinem Wesen ruht mein Gesang, der ist aber
ewig wie die Sehnsuchtl' Es war Kreisler, der vor mir
stand und diese Worte sprach. Ein himmlisches Geffihl
von Trost und Hoffnung ging durch mein Inneres, und

selbst wuBte ich nicht, wie es kam, daB ich Kreislern
an die Brust sank. (£11, Ix, 189)

D. The Kingship.

Most of the above passages have reflected the
Kapellmeister's superiority to the common lot. His
superiority is a spiritual superiority, and it is most
apparent in his separation from the pseudo-court society
of Sieghartshof. Meister Abraham's analysis of their
reaction to Kreisler is a very direct statement of his
kingship and heroism. He stands high over the rest and
knows that they are limited; the place they offer him in
their little world is too small - Johannes needs a throne:

"Seht, der Kreisler trfigt nicht eure Farben, er versteht

178

nicht eure Redensarten, der Stuhl, den ihr ihm hinstellt,.
damit er Platz nehme unter euch, ist ihm zu klein."
(2!, IX, 229)

Kreisler knows that his perception of life is far
closer to the truth than that of those around him, and
his frustration in the face of their delusion is another
aspect of his superiority: ". . . er meint, daB ein arger
Wahn, von dem ihr befangen, euch gar nicht das eigentliche
Leben erschauen lasse . . ." (2!, IX, 229) His awareness
of the divine archetype, the secret of existence beyond
dualism, which is his music and which is synonomous with
the concept of the Kingship - has endowed him with the
ironic humor discussed above in the face of life's
seeming paradoxes, a humor that his lesser fellows cannot
understand:

Vor allen Dingen liebt er jenen Scherz, der sich aus
der tieferen Anschauung des menschlichen Seins erzeugt
und der die schfinste Gabe der Natur zu nennen, die

sie aus der reinsten Quelle ihres Wesens schfipft.

Aber ihr seid vornehme ernste Leute und wollet nicht
scherzen. (2!, IX, 229)

Finally, Meister Abraham lays open the essence of
Kreisler's being as hero-king of the myth. From his
throne, the hero represents, in his exemplary, humanizing
significance, the power of love. The superiority of the
King over those who do not grasp the existential import

of this love and knowledge can be discomfiting, especially

if they have forgotten that their superficial goals are of

179

the passing moment only. To such people, the transcendent
majesty of the hero's throne is too much to bear:
Der Geist der wahren Liebe wohnt in ihm, doch vermag
dieser ein Herz zu erwfirmen, das auf ewig zum Tode
erstarrt ist, ja, in dem niemals der Funke war, den
jener Geist zur Flamme aufhaucht? Ihr m8 et den
Kreisler nicht, weil euch das Geffihl des bergewichts,
das ihr ihm einzurfiumen gezwungen, unbehaglich ist,
weil ihr ihn, der Verkehr treibt mit hfiheren‘Dingen,
als die gerade in euern Kreis passen, ffirchtet.
(.21. IX. 229)

In keeping with the basic structure of Hoffmann's
works, the reality in the novel Kater Murr is dualistic.
One level rests in the objective, physical world, satir-
ically described through the autobiography of a tomcat,
and one level rests in the unreal and phantastic, musical
world of Kreisler.80 It is the contrast provided between
these two worlds in the novel that so effectively points
up the Kingship motif. Murr, in conversations with
another tomcat, Muzius by name, has tried to understand
the concept of Philistinism, but his grasp of the idea is
superficial, at best. In any case, he rejects the con-
cept as he understands it, but it is apparent that Murr,
try as he may, is still a Philistine. His inability to
extend his thinking beyond egotism and the real world,
contrasted with Kreisler's musical excursion into the
transcendental realm, lifts Johannes above the common
lot. Kreisler's resulting existential problem, his

inability to return to superficial society, is thrown into

sharp relief by Hoffmann's satire of Murr's Philistinism:

180

Aufrichtig gestand ich dem Freund Muzius, daB ich
den Ausdruck Philister sowie seine eigentliche
Meinung nicht ganz fasse. 'O mein Bruder,' erwiderte
Muzius, . . . ganz vergeblich wfirde der Versuch sein,
Euch dieses alles zu erklaren, denn nimmermehr

kfinnt ihr begreifen, was ein Philister ist, solange
ihr selbst einer seid. (2!, IX, 216-217)

After having taken a few swallows of straight her-
ring-brine, Muzius's remedy for hangovers and for enduring

the transition from Philistinism to genuine Burschentum,

 

Murr's thoughts are driven to philosophical ruminations

on suffering and its place in the scheme of things. He
decides then that suffering (caused by his hangover and
compounded by the evil-tasting herring-brine) conditions
and balances a sort of cat-pleasure-principle, and is
therefore well-grounded and justified - a tomcat theodicy -

as part of the universe:

. . . ein philosophischer Kater erkennt das, . . .
jener trostlose ungeheure Jammer ist nur das
Gegengewicht, das die zum Forttreiben in der
Bedingung des Seins nfitige Reaktion bewirkt, und so
ist derselbe (der Jammer nfimlich) in dem Gedanken des
ewigen Weltalls begrfindet! - Legt Haare auf, Kater-
jfinglinge! und trbstet euch dann mit diesem
philosophischen Erfahrungssatz eures gelehrten
scharfsinnigen Standesgenossen. (2!, IX, 260)

Such pseudo-philosophy reminds the reader with its
shallowness that Kreisler's existential awareness is the
diametrical opposite of Murr's and is the only true
ontological insight presented in the novel. Ontological
concern is another statement of the hero's reason for

existence. Its most direct expression is the hero's effort

181

to know and articulate the concept of hierophanic time.
This is the poet's task and it is also Johannes Kreisler's
task, against which Murr's priggishness turns sickly pale,
It is his mission to know the Urzeit ". . . in his own

. "81
experience through poetry.

Through his own experience, Kreisler does know the
Urzeit, proving the validity of his heroic kingship
beyond question. The grotesque tension generated between
Murr's world and his, between the court at Sieghartsweiler
and Kreisler's eccentricity, is a manifestation of the
hero-artist's challenge to the real world's absolute
claim to the truth. It is his inarticulate effort to
convey the experience of the Urzeit. The ironic destruc-
tion of reality, which is the intent of the tomcat's
autobiography, is the artist's attempt to show that the
objective world and the fantasy world are only finite

82
aspects of a greater whole.

In Kreisler's case, the ontological insight is
present, but the ability to reconcile it with objective
reality is not. The Abbot in Kater Murr reminds him of
his special insight:

. . . und so verkfindet Ihr in mfichtigen Tfinen das
herrliche Wunder der Erkenntnis des ewigen klarsten
Lichts aus Eurem tiefsten Innern heraus. Und das Ihr
das vermBget, ist das nicht auch ein gnadenvolles
Wunder, das die ewige Macht geschehen lfiflt zu Eurem
Heil?

Kreisler ffihlte sich von des Abt Worten gar seltsam
erregt; so wie es selten geschehen, trat der volle

182

Glaube an sein innere schfipferiche Kraft lebendig
hervor, und ihm durchbebte ein seliges Wohlbehagen.

(3. IX. 327)
But, according to the myth, Kreisler should return to
the world to communicate his "innere schfipferische Kraft,"
to tell the secret of being born again, of renewing
life.83 His alienation from the world of men is too
intense, however, leaving him in the ambivalent position
of wanting continued contact with the hierbphanies which
the objective world offers to the true artist, but of
knowing that the Abbot's advice to flee the world and
take monastic vows is sound:
'Und Sie - Sie, mein Johannes, gehfiren zu diesen
Menschen, die die ewige Macht im Druck des
Irdischen hoch erhebt zum Himmlischen. Das rege
Geffihl des hfiheren Seins, das Sie ewig mit dem schalen
irdischen Treiben entzweien wird, entzweien muB,
strahlt m5chtig heraus in der Kunst, die einer andern
Welt gehfirt und die, ein heiliges Geheimnis der
himmlischen Liebe, mit Sehnsucht in Ihrer Brust
verschlossen ist. Die glfihendste Andacht selbst ist
diese Kunst, und, ihr ganz ergeben, haben Sie nichts

mehr gemein mit einer buntscheckigen Welttfindelei
o o o ' (2!, IX, 27h-75)

If he followed the Abbot's advice, Kreisler would
flee the world and take refuge in the protective walls of
the monastery. He could refuse the return and quietly
live out his life in the reverie of his music. His
feeling of apartness from men tempts him to retreat:
"'Tief . . . tief ffihle ich die Wahrheit Ihrer Worte,
mein ehrwfirdiger Freund! tief, daB ich wirklich nicht

in eine Welt tauge, die sich mir gestaltet wie ein ewiges

183

rfitselhaftes Miflverstfindnis.'" (2!, IX, 275) But his
feeling of'oneness with nature and her shimmering

symbols of the hero's own perception of universal unity,
draws him away from the sterile walls of the monastery.
His artist's soul would wither without nature's reinforc-
ing symbols of oneness: "'Es ist mir, als wenn dem Mfinch
Johannes dieselbe Welt, in der der Kapellmeister Johan-
nes doch so manches hfibsche Gartlein voll duftender
Blumen fand, plfitzlich eine fide unwirtbare Wfiste sein
wfirde . . .'" (31, IX, 275)

However, Kreisler's perception of nature and the
universe is, as the above discussion has implied, ob-
jectively "unreal." It is a perception which ignores
the challenge of life, forcing him to erect the defen-
sive barrier of irony to protect his retreat from this
reality.8h Like most of Hoffmann's artists, Kreisler
remains in his other world. Ideally, the artist as
king is a reflection of the sovereign descendent of the
sun in the ancient rites of sun worship: through his
art, he takes men to their death as limited beings and
then guides them up to a spiritual dawning and their

85

rebirth to the entire universe. And Hoffmann's own
conception of great art parallels this Pattern of the
myth. Hoffmann believed that only the artist who lived

in both objective reality and his own "personal, inter-

preted world" of creation could produce great art. Thus

184
Hoffmann's artist-hero fails, by his own artistic point of
view, when, for whatever reason, he does not return
from the world of his art to communicate his knowledge
to mankind through artistic creativity.86
Renald Taylor notes that Kreisler is an artist by
virtue of his love. To Kreisler, his love is an absolute,
an absolute which precludes his communicating with a
world which hardly understands even a limited concept of
love. Kreisler's love for Julia is the reason for his
art. "And as love is itself absolute and self-sufficient,
an end, not a means, so art also is an unconditional force,
an activity which is its own meaning and its own reward."87
Thus it is clear that Johannes Kreisler's attainment of
this absolute conception of love, personified in Julia
and expressed by his music, is like the mythical hero's
attaining the knowledge of the treasures of the under-
world (which is knowledge of the Absolute, the divine
archetype, God) and not returning. Johannes lets himself
be devoured by the monster, he becomes absorbed in her.
His experience of this is musical. He floats away on
the chords of his music to his other world of eternal
love:
'Mit euch,' rief Kreisler, indem er beide Arme weit
ausbreitete, 'mit such will ich ziehen, ihr Akkorde!
Von euch getragen, soll sich aller trostlose Schmerz
emporrichten zu mir und sich selbst vernichten in

meiner eignen Brust, und eure Stimmen sollen wie
himmlische Friedensboten es verkfinden, dafi der

185

Schmerz untergegangen in der Hoffnung, in der
Sehnsucht der ewigen Liebe.‘ (BE, IX, 280),

E. The Death of the Hero.
The preceding passage expresses Hoffmann's con-
ception of death. It is synonomous with "Die Liebe des

Kfinstlers," which finds ultimate fulfillment in death.88 1

 

In terms of the myth, the artist-hero does not suffer a
defeat in any sense, for the fulfillment of his love in

death is his arrival in paradise, the transcendental

 

place of the myth. As stated many times in this discus- i
sion, music is both the vehicle to this goal and the
goal itself. Personal assimilation in music relieves the
self of finite limitations. Through and in music, the
artist-hero dies to himself and is absorbed into the
energy of his inexpressible yearning, which is "die Liebe
des Kfinstlers":
Die Musik schlieBt dem Menschen ein unbekanntes Reich
auf, eine Welt, die nichts gemein hat mit der afiBeren
Sinnenwelt, die ihn umgibt, und in der er alle
bestimmten Geffihle zurfickschlfigt, um sich einer
unaussprechlichen Sehnsucht hinzugeben. (PE, I, 44)
This is the knowledge of death towards which the
hero of the myth eternally strives as he continually
renews his spirit in dying. This experience is not for
the uninitiated. Only those who have heard the call can

understand it. In Kreisler's celebration of the initia-

tory rites of music, he expresses the hero's knowledge

186

of the secret of life:

Es gibt Augenblicke . . . in denen mir die
musikalischen Zahlenverhaltnisse, ja die mystischen
Regeln des Kontrapunkts ein inneres Grauen

erwecken. Musik: mit geheimnisvollem Schauer,

ja mit Grausen nenne ich dich! Dich! In Tfinen
ausgesprochene Sanskritta der Natur: Der Ungeweihte
lallt sie nach in kindischen Lauten - der nachaffende
Frevler geht unter im eignen Hohnl (2E, I, 54)

When Kreisler, shuddering, calls out the name of
music, he defies death. His daring to die to himself to
ascend to the higher realm beyond, is the heroic defiance
of this motif. The naiveté of such defiance is an heroic
attribute discussed above. Here it is the classical
composer who possesses such naiveté. Referring to Haydn,
Kreisler recognizes this: "Der Ausdruck eines kindlichen
heitern Gemfits herrscht in Haydns Kompositionen. Seine
Sinfonien ffihren uns in unabsehbare grfine Haine, in ein
lustiges buntes Gewfihl glficklicher Menschen . . ."

(H. I. 45)

In so defying death, the hero loosens the physical
veneer to reveal the king within. In Kreisler's
yearning, which is his desire to leave the real world -
to die - and in his conception of music as the means and
the end, is the essential meaning of the myth of the
hero: ". . . at the moment of personal dissolution . . .
the individual should now return to his pristine knowledge

of the world-creative divinity who during life was re-

flected within his heart."89 The same idea takes musical

 

187
expression in Kreisler's experience:
Ist nicht die Musik die geheimnisvolle Sprache eines
fernen Geisterreichs, deren wunderbare Akzente in
unserem Innern widerklingen und ein hBheres, intensives
Leben erwecken? Alle Leidenschaften kfimpfen schimmered
und glanzvoll gerfistet miteinander und gehen unter in
einer unaussprechlichen Sehnsucht, die unsere Brust
erfullt. (2!, V, 95)
Kreisler's complete and profound immersion in music
is a consistent aspect of his character throughout his

appearance in the Works. Such consistency implies the

death-prophecy of this motif, for Johannes always sees

 

through and scorns the superficial Philistine concept of
art. His social friends impose their musical dilettantism
on him, causing him such mental anguish as to intensify
his desire to escape from this limited existence. In
this lies the prophecy of his escape, of his death to
this world: "8011 man denn ehrliche Musiker so qufilen
mit Musik, wie ich heute gequfilt worden bin und so oft
gequfilt werde?" (2!, I, 32) In his introspective
awareness of the true source of the power of music, he
reveals the mystical essence of the composite here: "It
is not outside, it is inside, wholly within," said Meister
Eckhart (See Chapter II, n. 60). Kreisler knows this,
too, and so knows that he must die to the outside world:
Aber wohnt sie nicht in der Brust des Menschen selbst
und erffillt sein Inneres so mit ihren holdseligen
Erscheinungen, daB sein ganzer Sinn sich ihnen
zuwendet und ein neues verklfirtes Leben ihn schon

hienieden dem Drange, der niederdrfickenden Qual des
Irdischen entreiflt? (2!, I, 34)

188
Tearing away the weight of earthly sorrow allows
the hero to rise up towards the mystical realm, and so
suggests all of the symbols of ascension, from the
Cosmic Tree to the Cross. Whatever the context, such

symbolism always carries the hero beyond earthly

9O

 

existence. Kreisler is no exception:

Wie holde Geister haben mich deine Tfine umfangen,
und jeder Sprach: 'Richte dein Haupt auf, du
Gebeugter! Ziehe mit uns in das ferne Land, wo der
Schmerz keine blutende Wunde mehr schlfigt, sondern
die Brust wie im hfichsten Entzficken mit unnennbarer
Sehnsucht erffillt.’ (_P_W, I, 37)

With the ascension of Johannes Kreisler to his
other world of music, the reader is asked to recall the
ultimate meaning of the myth as discussed in the previous
chapter. The hero stands at the beginning and end of all
things at all points in the Pattern. It is fitting,
then, that the last aspect of this last motif of the
Pattern, the disappearance of the hero, stands at the
chronological beginning of Hoffmann's works. Appearing
in 1814 in the first part of the first collection of tales
(Phantasiestficke in Callots Manier), the Kreisleriana,
Nr. 1-6, consist of the Kapellmeister's left papers. In
the preface to these Kreisleriana, the reader learns that
Kreisler has disappeared, that he might even have gone
mad. His life and activities are gleaned from the papers

he has left behind, and Kreisler himself does not reappear.

The circle of friends who are concerned for him and the

189

preservation of his left papers, and who give them over
to a former student of his for safe-keeping, strongly
suggests an incipient Kreisler-cult. The Kreisler
stories that then follow these first Kreisleriana, with
the novel Kater Murr being the most fully developed
presentation of the Kapellmeister, perpetuate his musical
experience in writing. But this experience will always
remain only to those who already possess artistic souls.
The reader recalls one of the premises of this discussion:
Kreisler does not return from his sojourn in the other
world. He thus remains incomplete in terms of the myth
of the hero. His friends know this. They know that the
world will unfortunately have to go without the des-
perately needed knowledge Which only the hero, returned
from the depths, can provide:
Die Freunde behaupteten, die Natur habe bei seiner
Organisation ein neues Rezept versucht und der Versuch
sei miBlungen, indem seinem fiberreizbaren Gemfite,
seiner bis zur zerstfirenden Flamme aufglfihenden
Phantasie zu wenig Phlegma beigemischt und so das
Gleichgewicht zerstfirt worden, das dem Kfinstler
durchaus nfitig sei, um mit der Welt zu leben und ihr
Werke au dichten, wie sie dieselben, selbst im hfiheren
Sinn, eigentlich brauche. (2!, I, 25)

The quest has been made. Kreisler's music is both

the quest and its fulfillment.

 

v-“ ‘

 

CONCLUSION

The lives of Johannes and Medardus are, like the

 

life of the hero, echoes of the ancient initiation rites.
The three stages of the rites are outlined in the lives
of the two figures as they endure a rebirth to higher,

spiritual levels of existence. This gives their biogra-

 

phies a meaning which goes beyond the artistic sphere.
Psychologists and historians, for instance, have tried

to find values which would pertain to their disciplines
by analysing numerous initiatory motifs and symbols in
literary works. Important is not whether the symbols of
the rites are objectively believable, but rather how they
function in the imaginary universe of their particular
setting. As the hero's initiation functions to carry him
in three stages to the transcendent place in the most
sophisticated myths, so the stages of Medardus' and
Kreisler's lives bring them both beyond duality.

Medardus dies to himself. He confronts manifes-
tations of human existence as a non-entity, i.e., he never
really knows who he is until he returns to the Monastery
at B., where he is reborn to the transcendent place

symbolized by his union with St. Rosalia in death amidst

190

191

the fragrance of the Heavenly Rose and in the play of
transcendent powers.

Johannes Kreisler dies to the Philistine world
and yearns for personal dissolution in his music. The
rebirth is suggested by his relationship with Julia, but

his total integration into all levels of reality never

 

takes place. Where Medardus' last penance and his manu-
script imply the possibility of the continual repetition

and narration of his experience, reminding the reader of j

 

the inseparability of the myth from the rite, of the L
exemplary purpose of the life of the hero, and of the 1
real function and ultimate purpose of rite and myth,
Kreisler's alleged insanity and the limited exposure of
his left papers imply his complete dissolution in the
tones of his music. In this sense, Medardus returns
with the knowledge of death. Kreisler does not.
However, both heroes lead exemplary lives. The
Christian setting of Medardus' experience clearly sug-
gests a didactic purpose. Kreisler's musical experience
is much more limited, i.e., probably only a person innately
in possession of an artistic soul could learn from his
life. But the desirability of rooting one's existence
in foundations which go deeper than the superficialities
of the Philistine world, which caused Hoffmann-Kreisler
such anguish, is apparent to anyone who is not completely

absorbed in materialism and social status. 50 an element

192
of didacticism appears in the Kapellmeister's biography,
too.
Indeed, if didactic elements were missing, the
function and purpose of the myth would be invisible.
Myth is understood as a model after which to pattern
I"

human behavior. In the sense that it is a real product

L.-

of man's imagination, an articulated potential, it must

a-"

be considered to be true. The truth of Medardus' life is

 

reflected in the legends of the Christian saints who
died to their physical beings,confronted the temptations E
and horrors of hell, and arose to a spiritual rebirth.
The truth of Johannes Kreisler's life is reflected in the
lives of the classical composers whom Hoffmann admired.
Beethoven, for instance, realized the heroic mission when
he connected the transcendent realm of his music with
objective reality so all could benefit from his insight.
Kreisler's inability to mediate in this way leaves his
figure incomplete as a hero of the myth, but his failing
in this respect implies and even invokes the image of the
fulfilled hero-composer in the person of a Beethoven,
Haydn or Mozart.
Like the heroes of myth and the music of the
great composers, the lives of Medardus and Johannes are
analogies which take the reader beyond his senses to
approach the source of all things. They take him close

to the force that binds the universe together.

193

For Medardus, amidst the Christian images and
symbols of Die Elixiere des Teufels, the force is the
universal power of God. For Johannes Kreisler, surrounded
by his magical, undefined world of sound, it is the in-
finite power of music as both the expression and place
of timeless reality. An experience to be felt only inside
the individual, the force can reveal itself only through
the human senses, which as Campbell says, are themselves
manifestations of it. But Medardus' life is an analogy
which builds on the symbols and metaphors of Catholicism;
Kreisler's life is an analogy which builds on the con-
notative power of music. Both lives are analogies, then,
which go beyond the phenomenal world of the senses in
order to approach the transcendental source of all things.
Carrying the initiate to the source by analogy is the
function of the myth of the hero. Within the two settings,
then, this paper has shown both Medardus and Johannes
Kreisler to be modern personifications of this ancient
symbol. By virtue of their analogical journey beyond
reality and the world into the transcendent place, they
are heroes in the original, truest and most meaningful

sense of the word.

 

FOOTNOTES

CHAPTER I

1Jan de Vries, Heroic Song and Heroic Legend (Lon-
don, 1963), p. 224.

2P. Berger, The Sacred Canopy (New York, 1969),
pp. 91-920

3Ibid., pp. 27-28: Discussing man's world-building
activities, Berger uses the word "externalize" to connote
the range of human effort to make society, and thus the
world, meaningful. Identifying his man-made world with
the world itself, basing it on this and regarding it as a
microcosm, man tried to make both worlds sacred in his
mind. Although the sacred has now been profaned by
science, most human worlds have usually been sacred
throughout human history. Thus, as Berger says, " . . .
religion implies the farthest reach of man's self-exter-
nalization, of his infusion of reality with his own
meanings. Religion implies that human order is projected
into the totality of being."

hde Vries, Heroic Song, pp. 220-226.

5M. Eliade, Myth and Reality (New York, 1963),
pp. 18-19. Eliade points out that the significance of
myth is its function of enabling the people experiencing
it through ritual (l) to assure themselves of the truth
of the myth (because creation is real), (2) to realize
the historical truths of supernatural beings and the
sacredness of the myths (because supernaturals did the
creating), (3) to see (in the relation of the myth to
something created) the Pattern for all important human
action, (4) to know and control the origin of things and
(5) to actually "live" the myth by being filled with the
exalting powers of its import. "In short, myths reveal
that the world, man and life have a supernatural origin
and history, and that this history is significant, precious
and exemplary."

194

 

 

1F: .1;an ‘

 

195

6de Vries, Heroic Song, pp. 218-230.

7Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces
(Princeton, 1968), pp. 37-38.

8F. R. S. Raglan, The Here. A Studyiin Tradition,
Myth, and Drama (New York, 1956), pp. 141. For other
listings of the basic plan of the life "adventure,"
'see also de Vries, Heroic Song, p. 224, and J. Campbell,
The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 30. See also J. L.
Henderson, "Ancient Myths and Modern Man," in Man and His
Symbols, ed. by C. G. Jung (New York, 1964), pp. 131-132,
where a distinction is made between the hero of myth and
the initiate who imitates the life of the hero as it is
narrated in the myth. The difference is that the hero
always overreaches himself in his efforts to reach his é”

 

 

 

goal and punished for his h bris, but the initiate must
submit to the ordeal and give up all self-centered ,-
ambition. ‘

9See de Vries, Heroic Song, p. 114. In some legends,
the prophecy of liberation is made in a dream had by the
hero's predecessor on the throne when the hero is in his
youth. Knowledge of the prophecy is then passed on to
the hero by a woman. This sets the central "adventure"
in motion.

10 . . .

Lives shOWIng this motif:

1. Moses: his sister, Miriam, tells his father,
Amram, in a dream that her mother will bear
him a son who will free his people. See 0.
Rank, The Myth of the Birth of the Here (New
York, 1964), p. 17.

2. Paris: by Priam and Hekabe. Hekabe, after
giving birth to Hektor, becomes pregnant again
and dreams that she gives birth to a burning
log. The log sets the whole city ablaze.

See 0. Rank, The Myph of the Birth of the Hero,
p. 23.

3. Oedipus: the Oracle tells Laius that he may
have a son if he wants, but that fate has
decreed that he should die by the hands of his
own son. See Sophocles, Oedipus the King, p.

94 of the Bantam edition.

4. Jesus: an angel appears to Joseph in a dream
and tells him that his wife is to bear a son

who will be his people's saviour. Matthew 1:
18-25.

196

¥1Raglan, The Hero, pp. 186-188. And when

royalty is present, Raglan points out, then the hero's
parents are always of royal rank.

12Ibid., pp. 258-264. See also 0. Rank, The Myth
of the Birth of the Hero, pp. 79-81. Rank's psycho-
analytical interpretation explains how the hero separates
the father concept from the figure of the king to return
to a more lowly father in the myths of Perseus, Karna,
Ion, Romulus and Jesus. The hero then nullifies this by
raising the father-figure to the status of a divinity.
This represents childish imaginings of the strength and
perfection of the father. In myths where the mother is
impregnated by a god and later married to a mortal, the
virgin birth symbolizes the hero's absolute repudiation
of the father. Lives showing this motif:

 

 

 

l. Gilgamesh: although closely watched by her L
father's retainers, she (his mother) became w"
pregnant by an unseen man. See Claudius
Aelianus: Historia Animalium, translated
by F. Jacobs (Stuttgart, 1841), V01. XII,

p. 21. Cited in 0. Rank, The Myth of the
Birth of the Hero, p. 27, n. 8.

2. Herakles: Son of Zeus and Alkmene. ". . . a
dread man and strong, Herakles the powerful.
This one she conceived under the embrace of
Zeus, the dark clouded." Hesiod, The Shield
of Herakles, 11. 52-53. From Hesiod. Tr. by
Richard Lattimore (Ann Arbor, 1959), p. 194.

3. Horus the Hawk: Son of Osirus and Isis.

See Norma Goodrich, Ancient Myths (New York,
1960), pp. 25-40.

4. Cyrus: Son of Mandane, daughter of Astyages,
King of the Medes. To prevent a grandchild
from succeeding him, Astyages gave Mandane
in marriage to Cambyses, a Persian considered
by Astyages to be inferior to even an average
Mede. About the time of Cyrus's conception,
Astyages has a portentous dream. Herodotus,
The Histories. Tr. by Harry Carter (New York,
1958), Vol. I, Book I, pp. 46-47.

13According to Rank, this figure is usually the
hero's father or maternal grandfather. In myths where
the identity of the father as persecutor is not apparent,
his presence can still be felt in the person of the
tyrant, says Rank. In this case, the word "tyrant" has
simply replaced the word "father." The father as royal
persecutor seems to have no relation at all to the hero

is thus carried out by the father in the role of the
tyrant. Rank explains this paternal malice as the expres-
sion of the hero's hostility: the hero projects hatred
for his father onto a father-figure from which he then
removes all filial feelings in order to justify his
hostility. See 0. Rank, The Myth of the Birth of the
Hero, pp. 75-83. Raglan sees the paternal hostility as
the faded memory of a ritualistic sacrifice of the son

to a god. See Raglan, The Hero, pp. 187-188.

 

 

197
or to the hero's family. The attempt on the hero's life
3*

lb’Lives showing this motif: b
l. Achilles: his mother, Thetis; his father,
Peleus. The Oracle at Delphi warns Zeus
and Poseidon not to woo the Nereide Thetis,
because her son is destined to be stronger
than his father. Peleus, mortal son of
Aiasokos, a son of Zeus, wins Thetis in a 4-
hard fight in which she assumes various
forms. After Achilles' birth, she is caught
by Peleus in the act of anointing Achilles
with Ambrosia to make him immortal; conse-
quently, she disappears forever into her
father's palace. Achilles has one vulnerable
spot as a result of the unfinished anointment.
This suggests both the concealed birth-place
and the threatening father-figure. By sur-
prising Thetis, Peleus prevents Achilles'
rebirth as an immortal. See H. Hunger,
Lexikon der griechischen und rfimischen
Mythologie (Wien, 1959), pp. 2-5.
2. Perseus: Son of Zeus and Danae. Akrisios,
Danae's father, hears from the Oracle that
he is to suffer death at the hands of his
grandson. He locks Danae up in an underground
vault. Zeus visits her there in the form of
a shower of gold. She conceives Perseus and
gives birth to him underground. See H.
Hunger, Lexicon der griechischen und erischen
Mythologie, pp. 277-280.
3. Rustam: son of Zal and Rudabah (Persia). The
Emperor is at first against the marriage of
the Assyrian Rudabah to Zal, son of Sam,
the greatest Persian warrior. Rustam gestates
longer than the normal fetus and grows ab- 3
normally large in Rudabah's body, threatening
her life. He must finally be delivered by
Caesarian section after the directions of the
Simurgh, the magical bird that raised Zal.

 

1963), p. 128.
4. Olifat (Micronesia): Son of a mortal woman,
and a sky-god named Lugeil'ng. Lugeil'ng's
heavenly wife tries to prevent the birth.
Olifat springs from his mother's head when
she pulls on a coconut leaf rib tied to her
hair. See R. Poignant, Oceanic Mythology
(London, 1967), p. 76.

 

198
See N. Goodrich, Ancient Myths (New York,

15Psychologically interpreted from dreams, the ex-
posure becomes an act of parental hostility imagined by
the child who regards his elders as his first and strongest
opponents. In the myth, parental hostility threatens the
birth of the hero, but his will to live overcomes it. Ex-
posure in water thus symbolizes the danger inherent in
the act of birth itself. See 0. Rank, The Myth of the
Birth of the Hero, pp. 72-77.

16Whatever the obstacle at birth, the entire child-
hood will be difficult. During this time, the hero dis-
appears from the "real" world of his parents and comes
into contact with what Joseph Campbell calls the "seed
powers." These powers are represented by various forms,
but their effect is uniform: they purge the hero of past
values and modes of thinking and instill in him new values
of a creative nature. Although the hero's "adventure"
is the usual time for the revelation of such powers, the
theme of infant exile and return is common to folklore,
legend and myth. These powers do not try to extirpate the
hero's human character. Human character is always present,
both during and after the hero's development. For more
on infant exile and for a description of the "seed powers,"
see J. Campbell, The Here with a Thousand Faces, pp. 314-
318; the consistency of the hero's human character is
discussed by de Vries in Heroic Song and Heroic Legend,
esp. p. 18; the hero as symbol of latent human qualities
is briefly discussed by C. G. Jung in Psychological
Reflections (New York, 1961), pp. 36-45.

17The animals represent the hero's first contact
with the "seed powers" discussed above (see n. 13). The
animals nurture the hero's latent qualities. Psycholo-
gists have interpreted them as the hero-child's effort
to separate his lowly, realistic mother-image from the
earlier exalted one. His subsequent denial of his mother
can then be justified because she is now nothing more
than a lowly animal, But from a cosmogonic perspective,
a temporary rejectiOn of even the exalted mother is
indicated, for such a rejection would be necessary before

“‘1

 

If '...-.‘r

199

the here could establish contact with the seed powers.

The designation "seed power" suggests an elementary

force of nature which is the source of all forms. Thus
any form of nature which refused, either willfully or

not, to recognize its intimacy with these forms (such

as the exalted mother who conceals sexual functions which
are quite conspicuous in animals) would have to be denied
by the hero, for he must reestablish contact with these
fundamental forces of nature in order to fulfill his
destiny. This is based on Otto Rank's theory. He writes:
"Much as the projection onto the father justifies the
hostile attitude on the part of the son, so the lowering
of the mother into an animal is likewise meant to indi-
cate the ingratitude of the son who denies her. As the
persecuting father is detached from the father, so the
exclusive role of wet nurse assigned to the mother - in
this substitution by an animal - goes back to the separa-
tion of the mother into the parts of the child-bearer

and the suckler. Animals are especially appropriate
substitutes, because the sexual processes are plainly
evident also to the child, while the concealment of

these is presumably the root of the childish revolt against
the parents. The exposure in the box and in the water
asexualizes the birth process. The children are fished
out of the water by a stork, who takes them to the parents
in a basket. The animal fable improves upon this idea,

by emphasizing the similarity between human birth and
animal birth." See The Myth of the Birth of the Hero, p.

91.

 

18Mythological figures raise the child in Greek myth.

19He can also seem stupid and slow to develop. See
J. de Vries, Heroic Song, p. 214. Percival and Hamlet,
among others, are cited.

ZOLiterally, the hero's obscure upbringing reflects

the traditional hero's lack of progress during his youth.
(See Raglan, The Hero, p. 189) Otto Rank's interpretation
implies both cosmogonic and soteriological purposes for
this motif. He says the hero's ego is like the child's.
The here, like the child, tries to replace his parents
with a more exalted parental image as his intelligence
develops. ~Cosmogonica11y, this means that the hero is
developing his latent powers and preparing to return to
his cosmic origins, to his "royal" parents. In the
ancient practice of alchemy, this stage of the hero's
development is the second stage of the process of soul-
purification: here the soul is cleansed of its narrow,
world-oriented outlook. (See Titus Burckhardt, Alchemy
(London, 1967), pp. 72-73.) This would also explain

200

the anonymity of the hero during his childhood. The
hero-child seems to want to return to the beginnings of
his existence, when integration with the total universe
precluded the burden of human guilt. This is, of course,
the state of innocence, of residency in Paradise. The
hero also wants to bridge the gulf between ego-conscious-
ness and the surrounding world of illusion by re-estab-
lishing contact with human beginnings. As Rank suggests,
the loss of this contact is represented by the hero's
separation from his ideal parental image, but it has been
symbolized in various other ways. The ejection from Eden
is the best-known symbol to Western man. But if the
foster-parents come from a more valid reality which lies
beyond consciousness, and if the royal parents also come
from this world as symbols of the hero's cosmic origins,
then how can the parodox be resolved? By viewing the
hero's attempt to replace his lowly parents with exalted
ones as the myth's underlying intent to show that the
worlds of both sets of parents are one and the same. See
Joseph Campbell, The Here with a Thousand Faces, for

the cosmogonic interpretation of the myth on which the
preceding is based. Otto Rank writes that the hero
always leaves his lowly parents to seek his royal origins.
What this means, however, is that the hero transcends his
ego-limitations. In the symbolic language of alchemy,
this is like the marriage of sun and moon, of king and
queen, of sulpher and quicksilver, a marriage which
illuminates the essence of the purified soul with the
radiant light of pure intellect, of the absolute, and
which changes lead to gold. See T. Burckhardt, Alchem ,
pp. 105-106; for the details of Rank's discussion see

The Myth of the Birth of the Hero, pp. 65-72. Lives
showing this motif:

1. Momotaro: the "Peachling Boy": Momotaro
comes floating down a river to his foster-
parents in the form of a peach. The fester-
parents, an old couple living in the mountains,

.open the fruit, and Momotaro emerges as a
strong baby-boy. See J. A. Mac Culloch,

The Mythology of all Races (New York, 1964),
Vol. VIII: Chinese and Japanese, p. 313.

2. Havelok the Dane: Havelok's father, King
Birkabeyn, entrusts his children to a friend
and counselor, Jarl Godard. Succumbing to
the temptations of power, Jarl kills Havelok's
two sisters and gives Havelok over to a lowly
fisherman, Grim, who is to throw him into then
ocean. Instead, Grim escapes to England. In
isolated vignettes from his youth, Havelok
demonstrates the usual heroic abilities.

 

201

See M. I. Eggutt, Hero Myths and Legends of
the British Race,‘(New York, 1910), pp. 73-94.

3. Muhammed the Prophet of Islam: Muhammed,
like all wealthy offspring of the city of
Mecca, was placed in the care of a wet-nurse,
whose role was really that of a foster-mother.
During his childhood, Muhammed exhibits mir-
aculous powers and gifts. Orphaned at six,
he is finally raised by an uncle. During his
youth, his divine gifts are manifested. See
Fazl Ahmad, Muhammed, the Prophet of Islam
(Lahore, 1960), pp. 1-33.

4. M32; (Polynesia): Maui is born prematurely,
wrapped in a lock of his mother's hair, and
thrown into the foamy surf. He was shaped
by the movement of the seaweed and guarded
by the jellyfish until the god Tama of the
sky, an ancestor of his, took him away. Gods
raised him, but he identified himself with
men. He was an ugly, but precocious child
whose activities were primarily directed
towards repairing the mistakes made at the
time of creation. See R. Poignant, Oceanic
Mythology (London, 1967), pp. 54-61.

21Raglan, The Hero, pp. 190-191. Raglan suggests
here that the old king was probably ritually killed,
". . . and that his successor had to kill an animal -
wolf, bear, or snake - into which his spirit was supposed
to have entered." This signifies progress in the hero's
ritual passage into manhood.

22de Vries, Heroic Song, p. 55.

 

23Raglan, The Hero, pp. 189-190.

Interpretations of the marriage of the hero to
the maid range from the mundane to the religious. One
has it that the marriage could be a reflection of the
continuance of a monarchy in the female line and an
accrual of power to the hero only by virtue of his
marriage to the princess; but that it more profoundly
signifies the hero's realization of his preordained
right to the throne through the revelation of his divine
powers. See Raglan, The Hero, p. 92. Another interpre-
tation sees it as childish obscuring of erotic feelings
for the mother (whom he really marries here in the form
of the maiden) in intense hostility for the father, whom
the child has just done away with. See 0. Rank, Th3

 

 

202

Myth of the Birth of the Hero, pp. 74-75. Coming close
to but not really yielding to the cosmogonic interpre-
tation is the view that the marriage reflects the ancient
Indo-European rite hierosggamos, the marriage of the land
to the prince who is to rule it: symbolically, the god
of heaven marries the goddess of earth; to rule over it
wisely, he must bow to her will. See de Vries, Heroic
Song, pp. 90-91. Lives showing this motif:

1. Thor: Although advised against making the
journey to Jbtenheim, the land of the giants,
Thor makes the trip anyway. There he wants
to get a mile-deep cauldron needed for a

feast being held at the palace of the Sea-King,

Aegir. During his time in Jfitenheim, he
exhibits courage superior to that of the
giant, Hgmir, by catching the sea-serpent,
Jfirmungand, on his hook and raising his head

above the surface of the water. Upon returning

to Hgmir's castle, Thor receives some useful
advice from the giant's beautiful wife. Pur-
sued by the giants to Aegir's castle, Thor
renders them harmless with his hammer by
changing them to stone. See A. E. Keary, ed.
The Heroes of Asgard (London, 1907), pp. 25-

 

 

34.
2. Daniel Boone: "Boone was the American Moses
who lead us into the Promised Land." "Even

in his later years, . . . the component parts
of the myth were recognizable . . .: a
Promised Land beyond the mountains; land-
hungry families who considered it a new Eden;
someone leading the people westward; a lone
wanderer guiding his generation on a God-
sanctioned mission." See M. W. Fishwick,

American Heroesthyth and Reality (Washington,

D.C.. 1954). p. 56. pp. 59-60.

3. Nyakang (Africa): Nyakang is the founder and
culture-hero and first king of the Shilluk
tribe of the Sudan. He is considered to be
incarnate in every king. The supreme god of
this tribe is Juok. Through Nyakang, Juok,

the invisible and omniscient one, is approached.

Nyakany "fled from the land of Dimo . . . to
become the founder and first king of the
Shilluk nation (p. 76)." He used his magic
along the way to transform animals into men
for his subjects. The priests of his shrines
are elderly women, frequently widows of the
dead king. See C. G. Seligman, Pagan Tribes

of the Sudan (London, 1932), pp. 37-38 and pp.

74-102.

 

 

203

4. Mos‘hnnyuna (Bantu): Warned by his mother,
Moshanyanu nevertheless sets out to deliver
his people from the monster Kholumolumo, who
had swallowed them up. The liberated people
then make him their chief. See J. A. Mac
Culloch, The Mythology of all Races, Vol VII,
African, pp. 220-221.

 

25Horrible monsters and grueling trials are both
important parts of the initiation rites, which must
employ them in order to imitate the creation of the uni-
verse. See de Vries, Heroic Song, p. 224. For a detailed
study in depth of man's efforts down through the ages to
come to terms with the problems of death while on this
side of life, see John S. Dunne, The City of the Gods
(New York, 1965). Lives showing motif F:

l. OdianKingrof Gods and Men (Germanic): Odin
journeys to Niflheim, the dark underworld
of the dead. He ponders the sights he sees
there for nine days and turns away braver and
wiser than he was when he came. See A. E.
Keary, The Heroes of Asgard (London, 1907),
PP- 1-5-

2. Sudika-Mbambi,_the Invincible (Bantu): the son
of Nzua dia Kimanawege, who married the
daughter of the sun and moon. Sudika-Mbambi
kills an old witch and marries her grand-
daughter. After a period of inactivity he
journeys to the country of the dead. There
he must perform several tasks in order to win
a maiden. He is swallowed by a fish and
brought back to life. See Alice Werner,

Myths and Legends of the Bantu (London, 1968),
pp. 120-125.

3. Mbega (Bantu): King Mbega dies after a three-
day illness. His death is concealed from his
people. Mysterious rites attend the funeral,
which is held secretly. As far as his people
know, his body is not buried nor is it ever
found. See A. Werner, Myths and Legends of
the Bantu, pp. 139-140.

4. AraL_the Beautiful (Armenian): Ara, King of
the Armenians, is coveted by the beautiful
and voluptuous queen of the Assyrians. When
he rejects her advances, she attacks his army
with a superior force. Ara is found dead
among the slain. The Queen has the body
brought to his castle. There Ara is brought
back to life, after the body had already begun

 

26

This has been explained as the faded memory of
the ancient ritual of burning the old king on a funeral
pyre. His body would then be closer to the sky to facili-
tate the ascension of his spirit. See Raglan, The Hero,
pp- 193-194.
of his destiny. It reveals probably the most important
of the heroic traits: the hero's willingness to die for
the spiritual good of his people. See M. Hadas and M.
Smith, Heroes and Gods (New York, 1965), p. 15. Lives
showing motif G:

1.

204

to decay.. J. A. MacCulloch, The Mythology
of all Races, Vol. VII: Armenian, by M. H.
Ananikan, p. 68. This source also points

out that Ara's story in another version is
"found at the end of Plato's Republic, where
he tells us that a certain Pamphylian hero
called Er, son of Armenius, 'happening on a
time to die in battle, when the dead were on
the tenth day carried off, already corrupted,
was taken up sound; and being carried home

as he was about to be laid on the funeral
pile, he revived, and being revived, he told
what he saw of the other state.'" (pp. 68-69;
Republic, x. 134).

 

 

The hero's death signifies the fulfillment

 

Yamato-Takeru (Japan): The Japan-Warrior-Hero
dies of a malady inflicted on him by an evil
spirit. Three times grave mounds are erected
to him and three times a white bird flies out
of the mound. See J. A. Mac Culloch, Myths

of all Races, Vol. VIII: Chinese, Japanese,

pp. 304-305.

Tammuz (Semitic): Although Tammuz is a dying

god of Sumerian literature, there is strong
evidence of historical origin, since the
earliest mention of Tammuz places him as the
fourth king of the prehistoric dynasty of
Erech and predecessor of Gilgamesh, thus in
a time when "kings of cities suffered death
at the hands of their people to satisfy the
power of Hades and to ensure the return of
life." See page 2 of text. Even though
Tammuz won immortality, "the ancient belief
that a king or a king's son had died for man
and all living creatures could not be
eradicated from this myth." See J. A. Mac
Culloch, The Mythology of all Races, Vol. V:
Semitic, by S. A. Langdon, p. 345.

 

205

3. George Washington: Immortalized in his
lifetime, Washington is worshipped in death.
Mount Vernon is still a national shrine.

"When he died in 1799, a symbol and a tradition
. . . as well as a human body, was buried at
Mount Vernon." See M. W. Fishwick, American
Heroes, p. 40.

4. Arthur: Arthur's death is mysterious, his
body is not buried, but he has a shrine at
Glastonbury. See Raglan, The Hero, pp. 183-184.

 

 

CHAPTER II

1Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
pp. 19-20.

2

 

See James Frazer, The New Golden Bough (New York,
1959), pp. 5-6 for a detailed discussion of this relation-
ship. See also the "Additional Notes" by Theodor Gaster,
esp. "The King in Primitive Societies," pp. 125-127, where
Caster disagrees with Frazer's original conception of the
King as the god's designate or representative.

3Karl Kerenyi, Die Heroen der Griechen (Zfirich, 1958),
pp. 20-21.

thid., p. 13. As Kerenyi writes: "Ihre Existenz
ist eine besonders Quasiexistenz, die weniger und mehr ist
als die gewfihnliche menschliche Existenz: mehr, weil sie
auch ihr Nachleben im kult umfafit . . . Der Glanz des
gfittlichen, der auf die Gestalt des Heros fallt, ist
eigentfimlich vermischt mit dem Schatten der Sterblichkeit.
Daraus ergibt sich ein mythologischer Charakter, der
Charakter eines besonderen Wesens, zu dem mindestens
cine Geschichte gehfirt: die Erzdhlung won eben jenem und
keinem anderen Heros. Wird der mythologischer Charakter
durch eine rein menschliche Charakterisierung ersetzt,
werden die Heroengeschichten zu Erzflhlungen von kriegerischen
MAnnern verwandelt - etwa wie 'Edle Herren' - so wird der
Mythologie, auch die Heroenmythologie, ihre Grenze gestzt."

 

5This points up the inseparability of myth and riteu
which together serve to transcend time. The rite imitates
what happened in primordial time and the myth narrates
it. The original, primordial event occurs again in the
rite. The narration of the myth explains it, and the
initiate then experiences it as a reality. All of the

 

206

sources used here which dealt with this subject agree
that myth and rite are inseparable in this sense.

OJ. de Vries, Heroic Song, pp. 227-229.

7Mircea Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion
(New York, 1958), pp. 249-250.

Ibid.

 

9See Mircea Eliade, The Quest (Chicago, 1969), p. 68.
Eliade makes the point here that all aspects of life,
dance, sex, essential work, were once religious facts; the
closer the historian of religion gets to the source of
religion, the more apparent this becomes.
10See John S. Dunne, The City of the Gods (New York,
1965), pp. 71-72. Dunne offers this as evidence of man's
real desire to be immortal here on earth, not after death,
for it soon became apparent that the experience of death
necessary before one could join the company of the gods
was too exacting and uncertain. But attempts to achieve
immortality on earth by prolonging life failed; Gilgemesh's
quest for the Plant of Youth and Hercules' for the Golden
Apples of the Hesperides are two examples of this.
Ultimately, of course, man has to make the most of his
finite existence.

11John S. Dunne, A Search for God in Time and Memory,
(London, 1969), p. 61.
12Ibid., p. 62. Dunne addresses himself here to
modern, alienated man. His important contention is that
modern man can no longer try to appropriate the lives of
great figures, but must appropriate his own life, he must
become himself first. But it seems obvious that the
exemplary, heroic life would be the logical beginning for
this process, since the hero epitomizes the human experience,
as the Pattern with its meaning Shows.

13Ibid., pp. 67-68.
14 . . . .

M. Eliad, Patterns in Comparative Reli ion, pp.
242-245. The historical background is from Chapter VII,
"The Earth, Woman and Fertility," pp. 239-262, which is
exhaustively documented on pp. 263-264.

1
5Peter L. Berger, The Sacred Canopy (Garden City,
1969), p. 28.

 

 

207

6Joseph Campbell, The Here with a Thousand Faces,
p- 297.

17M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,
pp. Zus-SOO

18Ibid., p. 242.

l9Ibid., pp. 249-250.

20See Mircea Eliade, MythsL_DreamS and Mysteries
(New York, 1960), pp. 13-20, where Eliade agrees that
the depth-psychologists can parallel figures and events
in dreams with common mythological motifs, but does not
agree that the figures and events from mythology are
derivations from the Unconscious. A myth relates something
that really happened at the beginning; it is universal
in its presentation of a primordial event which insti-
tuted a way of behavior or way of perceiving reality. It
cannot be personal. A dream considered in its own setting
does not have the ontological import of a myth; it is not
universal, even though it reveals in its limited context
parallels to myth.

 

 

21M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion, pp.
188-89.

22This, it seems to me, is the purpose of his Hero

with a Thousand Faces.

23M. L. von Franz, "The Process of Individuation,"
Man and His Symbols, ed. 0. G. Jung (New York, 1964), p.
207.

2“Perhaps the ultimate naiveté is best symbolized
in the image of the unselfconscious animal.

25D. T. Suzuki, Mysticism: Christian and Buddhist.
The Eastern and Western Way, (New York, 1962), p. 19.
Quoting from the G. Evans translation of Eckhart (John
M. Watkins, London, 1924), pp. 341-2.

26J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 11.

27Ibid., pp. 149-171. Campbell compares this to the
Buddhistic goal of transcending all opposites, of being
beyond the superficial dualism of conscious life. The
hero now realiZes that all forms are the one and the one

is all forms.

208

n
“80f. P. Berger, The Sacred Canopy, on which this

and the following comments from the sociology of religion
are based. See esp. Chapter 3, "The Problem of Theodicy,"

pp. 53-80.

291bid., pp. 54-55.

 

 

 

 

 

 

30Ibid., p. 80.
31 .
J. Dunne, The City of the Gods, pp. 93-99.
3 M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,
p. 428.
33See J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
Pp. 72-77-
BhP. Berger, "Religion and Alienation," The Sacred L-

 

35Ibid., p. 92. It is important to note here with
Berger that these religious meanings, even though they
are projections, appear to man first as alienating
symbols. As man perceives them to be his own projections,
they become‘healienating"; with the result that religious
symbols and doctrines become less plausible.

36

Ibid., Chapter 4, "Religion and Alienation."

id., pp. 98-99.

 

 

38J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
39

C. G. Jung, Two Essays on Analytical Psychology
(London, 1953), The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, ed.
H. Read, M. Fordham, G. Adler, and Wm. McQuire, tr. by
R. F. C. Hull (Bollingen Series, xx), VII, 24.

h01bid., pp. 64-65. Jung takes the phrase "primordial
images" from Jacob Burckhardt. The identically-repeating
motifs from myth and legend he attributes to the "inherited
power of human imagination as it was from time immemorial
(p. 64 - Later he calls this the Collective Unconscious)."

hlIbido , p. 78.

 

Ibid.

 

209

 

 

uBJ. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 238.
44 . '
C. G. Jung, Two Essays on Analytical Psychology,
p. 98.
45

Ibid., p. 281.
u6See M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,
pp. 420-425, where he points out that the most perfect
expressions of the desired state of undifferentiated
form are the myths of divine androgyny, where all attri-
butes exist side by side.
47 .
J. Campbell, The Hero w1th a Thousand Faces, pp.
126-149.
48 -
C. G. Jung,Two Essays on Analytical Psychology,
pp. 97-98. The anecdote is from Leo Frobenius, Das
Zeitalter des Sonnengottes (Berlin, 1904).

u9C. G. Jung, The Structure and Dynamics of the
Psyche, The Collected Works, VIII, 208-209.

50M. L.von Franz, "The Process of Individuation,"
pp. 160-229. The male tendencies in every woman Jung
called the animus.

 

 

 

Er-lla...‘ m f '

51See J. Campbell, "Woman as Temptress," The Here
with a Thousand Faces, pp. 120-126 for a soteriological
interpretation of this aspect of the myth; see also M. L.
von Franz, "The Process of Individuation," pp. 179-180,
where von Franz writes: "Men may be driven to nurse their
fantasies by looking at films and strip-tease shows or by
day-dreaming over pornographic material. This is a crude,
primitive aspect of the anima, which becomes compulsive
only when a man does not sufficiently cultivate his feel-
ing relationships - when his feeling attitude toward life
has remained infantile."

52See Joseph L. Henderson, "Ancient Myths and Modern
Man," Man and His Symbols, pp. 106-157, for the details
on this variation of the feminine images in the Pattern.

 

 

 

53J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p.
216.
4
5 M. L. von Franz, "The Process of Individuation,"
p. 196.

 

210

55Although it is not the purpose here to cite all
the variations on the Pattern, it is worth mentioning
the difference between the "supreme hero" and the "hero
of action" as distinguished by Campbell. Whereas the
deeds of the hero of action are viewed as transpiring
amidst pain and suffering, the great contribution of
the supreme hero is to open our eyes to the serenity of
the "Invisible Unknown," as Campbell calls it. In this
case, the supreme hero goes beyond the life personified
in the maiden to the source of life personified in the

 

 

 

 

Father (The Here with a Thousand Faces, pp. 345-346). E-
56Eric Bentley, A Century of Hero-Worship (Boston, 6
1957). p. 67.
57;p;g., p. 153.
581bid., p. 166. i

 

59C. G. Jung, Alchemical Studies (New York, 1967),
The Collected Works, XIII; cf. also Psychology and Alchemy
(New York, 1953), XII, 276-303 and 320-326.

 

6OFranz Pfeiffer, Meister Eckhart, tr. by C. de
B. Evans (London, 1924), 2 Vols., as quoted in C. G. Jung,
Psychology and Alchemy, p. 97, n. 5.

61

James Frazer, "Farewell to Nemi," The New Golden

Bough, pp. 648-651.

62J. Dunne, The City of the Gods, pp. 119-120.

63This is true on the historical-political level,
too. Witness the popularity of "debunking."

6L’See M. Eliade, Myths, Dreams and Mysteries, pp.

59-72 for details on this and parallels to Oriental
mysticism.

65See M. Eliade, The Quest, pp. 65-66.

 

6Joseph L. Henderson, "Ancient Myths and Modern
Man," p0 1280

67See J. Campbell, The Here with a Thousand Faces,
pp- 59-68-

68

See M. Eliade, "Mysteries and Spiritual Re-
generation," Myths, Dreams and Mysteries, pp. 190-228.

 

211

69Ibid., p. 225.

7OK. Kerenyi, Die Heroen, pp. 27-29. Kerenyi
points out that the origin of Greek tragedy roots in
this myth. The song sung over the sacrificial goat,
which represented the hero in suffering, was called
"tragbdia, das Lied aus dem Anlass des Bocks, und eben
darin, in der Tragfidie, wurde ihm von immer kfihneren
Dichtern das Leiden der Heroen dargebracht (p. 28)."

71J
p- 337.
72

. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,

73F. R. S. Raglan, The Hero, pp. 202-203.

7“See Kerenyi, Die Heroen, p. 22ff. It seems worth-
while here to note a comment by C. G. Jung which reveals
that the idea of imitation has remained alive in
Christianity but has been emptied of its original meaning“
He writes: "The demand made by the imitatio Christi -
that we should follow the ideal and seek to become like
it - ought logically to have the result of developing and
exalting the inner man. In actual fact, however, the
ideal has been turned by superficial and formalistically-»
minded believers into an external object of worship,
and it is precisely this veneration for the object that
prevents it from reaching down into the depths of the
soul and transforming it into a wholeness in keeping
with the ideal (Psychology and Alchemy, p. 7)."

75

K. Kerenyi, Die Heroen, p. 15.

 

CHAPTER III

1E. T. A. Hoffmann, Die Elixiere des Teufels,

Poetische Werke, Herausgegeben von Klaus Kanzog (Berlin,
1958), Vol II, p. 5. All quotations from Hoffmann's
literary works are from the Kanzog edition and are here-
after cited in the text as 2E (Poetische Werke) followed
by the volume number and the page number. Titles of
individual stories and tales within the volumes cited
are always clearly stated in the text.

M. Eliade, Myths, Dreams and Mysteries, pp. 227-228.

 

 

212

2This suggests the point in the evolution of
mythologies where ". . . creation myths begin to give
place to legend - as in the Book of Genesis, following
the expulsion from the Garden (Joseph Campbell, Th2
Here with a Thousand Faces, p. 315)." From metaphysics
to prehistory to recorded history, the hero takes on a
more and more commonly human character. De Vries con-
curs in this. (See his Heroic Song, p. 224.) Medardus'
creative role is the quite human one of overcoming guilt.
The gods are invisible. All happens within the limited
consciousness of human history.

3The following discussion of hierophanic time and
the paradoxical ease and difficulty of journeying in it
to the transcendent place iS indebted to M. Eliade,
Patterns in Comparative Religion, pp. 382-408. The
way is easy in the sense that it is perfectly legitimate
to bring a tree representing the Cosmic Tree into every
man's house; it is difficult because it is a passing from
the profane to the sacred, from man to God.

hM. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion, p. 29.

 

5Ronald Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 94ff. Taylor calls
Medardus' life "a parable of the struggle between good
and evil in the subconscious mind . . ." His goal is
the place of his birth. The birth itself he calls a
birth ". . . into the knowledge of Schelling's Platonic
'Golden Age.'" He defines Medardus' task as the need to
know and discover the point of contact between the
conscious and the unconscious, both personal and collec-
tive. Chapter II of this paper discusses this concept
in the terms of psychoanalysis, where the hero's main
task is to mediate between conscious and unconscious
forces. Other interpretive comments by Taylor reflect
additional motifs of the Pattern.

6H. W. Hewett-Thayer, Hoffmann: Author of the
Tales, (Princeton, 1948), p. 263.

7

 

Ibid. , p0 263ff0

8The foster parents' affinity to the helpful
animals of the myth is discussed in Chapter I, n. 14
and Chapter II, pp.

9See J. S. Dunne, The City of the Gods, pp. 13-

14.

 

 

213

10See H. W. Hewett-Thayer, Hoffmann, p. 267ff.

HewettaThayer's comments about Medardus' powerful
personality, the talisman effect of Church relics and
Medardus' adventure with an alien power leading to his
spiritual renewal, all suggest the Pattern of the myth
of the hero .

 

llSee H. G. Werner, "Der Schicksalsgedanke in den

Elixieren des Teufels," E. T. A. Hoffmann. Darstellung
und Deutung der Wirklichkeit im dichterischen Werk,
(Weimar, 1962): p. 78ff.

12Ibid., p. 79.

13See C. G. Jung, The Structure and Dynamics of the
Psyche. The Collected Works, VIII, 22lff. In psycho-
.analytical terms, the hero's main task is to tear the i
archetypal image from its instinct. However, the here
must not allow himself to be absorbed into the realm of
pure instinct, for this dark area would ultimately shut
out all conscious light, a prospect too horrible to
consider. The image of the instinct is what the here
must have; this is the prize he wins when he kills the
dragon. The image of the archetype is not the archetype
itself, which cannot reach consciousness. Its Opposite
is instinct, and its close affinity to its opposite is
expressed by the alchemists as Uroboros, the tail-eating
serpent. The archetype is partly a spiritual factor, and
partly like a hidden meaning imminent in the instincts.

l“See Raglan, The Hero, pp. 117-128 for his dis-
cussion of the inseparability of the myth from the rite.
By repeating the myth, the priests sanctified the rite
by connecting present ritual with past ritual, rendering
past time and present time one concept.

15Karin Cramer, "BewuBtseinsspaltung in E. T. A.
Hoffmann's Roman Die Elixiere des Teufels," Mitteilungen
der E. T. A. Hoffmann-Gesellschaft, (1970), Vol 16, pp. 8-
18. For this expression of Medardus' un-integrated
self, I am indebted to Miss Cramer.

16 . .

Ibid., for the concept of Free Will as a force
which Medardus must recognize and use to his advantage
if he is to realize his goal.

1?

.-. ‘mL‘IO'1

 

 

 

J. S. Dunne, The City of the Gods, pp. 76-79.

214

18K. Cramer, "BewBtseinsspaltung," p. 14. Miss

Cramer expresses this as Medardus' continued effort to
sublimate his evil past and project it onto Viktorin.

19See Raglan, The Hero, pp. 265-273.

20The reader learns that Viktorin, superficially
injured physically but driven mad by the fall into the
chasm, was taken in by the forester after having wandered
aimlessly through the forest. The forester, believing
Viktorin to be Medardus, bought his Capuchin habit from
a man who had found it in the hollow tree.
21The images are from Joseph Campbell's Hero with
a Thousand Faces.

22R. Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 99.

 

23This can be compared to the second step in the
alchemical process of spiritual renewal, where the
initiate is purged of his narrow, world-oriented outlook,
and to a stage in the mystic's evolution to freedom from
earthly desire.

24 . . . . . . . . . .

This is the justification for labeling his VISIt

at the Residence the beginning of the journey out.

25Note the multiples of three. This magic number
is incorporated in the tripartite divisions of the
Pattern, where a generic grouping always results in
birth, death and regeneration.

26See K. Cramer, "BewuBtseinsspaltung," p. 17.
Miss Cramer draws this conclusion and cites the passage
in support of it; the text of my paper applies it to
the myth.

27Ibid., p. 14. Miss Cramer writes: "ES sind
die SelbstgesprAChe eines Verzweifelten, der in Gefahr
steht, die letzte Verbindung mit der Wirklichkeit zu
verlieren und der sich krampfhaft bemfiht, die im
Doppelgflnger manifestierte und leibhaftig gewordene
Vergangenheit wieder ins UnterbewuBtsein zu verdrfingen."
But the fact that he has implicitly acknowledged Viktorin
as an aspect of self by his admission to the guard,
supports this as a step towards clarity, rather than as
another effort to suppress his past.

28Titus Burckhardt, Alchemy (London, 1967), p. 72ff;
p. 124ff.

 

 

 

 

215

29The genealogical tables of the family show that
Medardus and Aurelie are indeed related.

30See M. Eliade, The Quest (Chicago, 1969), p. 112.
Eliade defines their purpose here: "The term initiation
in the most general sense denotes a body of rites and
oral teachings whose purpose is to produce a radical
modification of the religious and social status of the
person to be initiated. In philosophical terms,
initiation is equivalent to an ontological mutation
of the existential condition. The novice emerges from
his ordeal a totally different being: he has become
another."

31

 

See pp. 225-228 of the novel for the details.

32See note 20 and 23, this chapter. The second
alchemical step is now complete. Medardus' physical
being is now form-receptive materia.

 

33M. Eliade, The Two and The One (London, 1965),
pp. 78-97. Among other examples of the coincidentia
oppositorum, Eliade cites the sympathy God shows to
Mephisto in the Prologue to Faust.

31‘This is a paraphrasing of Joseph Campbell's
imagery; See The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 288.

35See T7 Burckhardt, Alchem , pp. 105-106.

36See J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,

37The possibility of the hero's refusal to return
has lain in the intensity of Medardus' penance up to
this point.

38This passage implies the de-alienating effect of
cosmic religions. See M. Eliade, The Quest, p. 64, n. 7:
"There are . . . rectifications to bring to . . .
Feuerbach's and Marx's celebrated interpretations of
religion as alienation. . . . Feuerbach and Marx pro-
claimed that religion estranges man from the earth,
prevents him from becoming completely human . . . But,
even if this were correct, such a critique of religion
could only be applied to late forms of religiosity such
as those of post-Vedic India or of Judeo-Christianity -
that is, religions in which the element of 'other world-
liness' plays such an important role. Alienation and

 

216

estrangcmcnt of man from the earth are unknown, and,
moreover, inconceivable, in all religions of the

cosmic type, 'primitive' as well as oriental; in this
case (. . . in the overwhelming majority of religions
known to history), the religious life consists exactly
in exalting the solidarity of man with life and nature."
This is another statement of the purpose of the myth

of the hero.

39K. Negus, E. T. A. Hoffmann's Other World:
The Romantic Author and His 'New Mythology' (Philadelphia,
1965), p. 92: "The extreme satanic depths of mood [—
anticipate an ascension to the light . . ." Negus's ref-
erences to C. G. Jung's interpretations of Hoffmann's
figures and motifs all lend themselves in support of
the premise of this Paper. See esp. p. 86ff.

“OJ. S. Dunne, A Search for God in Time and Memory, _
p. 93. Dunne states that modern man must also descend éw
to hell before he will be able to overcome the despair of
his immediate existence.

hi . . . . . .

The folloWing discuSSion treats him only in this

respect. It does not offer a chronological survey of
the episodes in Kater Murr, nor does it follow a sequential
development of the figure in Hoffmann's works. A chrono—
logical ordering and an evolutionary progression appear
only insofar as the individual motifs of the Pattern may
seem to suggest them in the course of the hero's life from
birth to death. However, it must always be kept in mind
that the myth is timeless, with no real beginning or end.
See also Hewett-Thayer, Hoffmann, pp. 29lff, where his
description of Kreisler in Kater Murr alludes to the
heroic qualities set out by the myth: ". . . his strange,
chameleon-like appearance, even the sudden changes in
the tones of his voice, his emotions of strength uncommon
among mortals, the contradictory elements of his being,
the passionate music within him, the droll irony . . ."
Kreisler's appearance causes ". . . material things to
lose their substance, to turn into shadows." His ". . .
kingdom is not of this world. . . . he gives them glimpses
of that other world in which he lives and moves and has
his being."

#2 ,

See M. Eliade, Myth and Reality, pp. 129-138 for a

discussion of the role this figure plays in myths of
memory and forgetting. When the 'celestial emissary'
awakens the soul, it is then aware of only its relation
to the primordial myth.

 

 

 

 

217

I
'3500 Hadas and Smith, Heroes and Gods, p. 73ff,

For a discussion of this.

, _

4uSee M. Eliade, Myth and Reality, pp. 129-138.
Myths of memory and forgetting portray earthly life as
a state of ignorance, "drunkenness and oblivion." In
the myth, history and current events are of no signifi-
cance, because they do not reveal these clues. Thus,
the birth of the hero has ultimately little to do with
history.

1:5
VI, 649.

hésee M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion, 1
pp. #31-434. The point is that man's yearning for the
absolute never ceases. He is continually searching
for paradise.

h7See C. G. Jung, The Structure and Dynamics of
the Psyche, p. 205ff.
#8 -
See E. Bently, A Century of Hero-Worship, p. 230.
The hero's mediating role is defined by Lawrence: "'Give
homage to a hero,‘ says Lawrence, 'and you become yourself
heroic, it is the law of men.'"

The Encyclopedia Americana, (Chicago, 1947), r*

 

 

'F-nm- an»;
1

hgsee P. Bruning, "E. T. A. Hoffmann and the
Philistine," The German Quarterly (1955), VIII, 111-121.

50R. Taylor, Hoffmann, pp. u9—50.

51Ibid., p. A5.

52Ibid., p. 81ff. ,Berthold in Die Jesuitenkirche
zu G., or Elis in Die Bergwerke zu Falun are two
examples. Elsewhere, as in Der Goldne Topf, Hoffmann
associated such knowledge with a blissful state of
paradise in Atlantis.

53K. Negus, Hoffmann's Other World, p. 163.

5b'Ibid., p. 161. Negus compares Abraham to Lind-
horst, calls them both 'masters,‘ but labels Lindhorst
the "most fully developed of the master figures."

55R. Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 1h.

218

56See Christa Karoli, "Ritter Gluck. Hoffmann's
erstes Phantasiestfick," Mitteilungen der E. T. A. Hoffmann
Gesellschaft, (1968), Vol 1h, pp. 1—17.

57See K. Negus, Hoffmann's Other World, p. 68.
Negus points out that in Ritter Gluck and in Johannes
Kreislers Musikalischer Klub (PW, I, 352-356), the artist
must traverse the realm of dreams before he can reach
the musical world of light and truth. The world of
dreams is frought with monsters and demons which might
destroy the artist. (The parallel to the myth is obvious)

58See Thomas Cramer, Das Groteske bei E. T. A.
Hoffmann, (Munchen, 1970), esp. p. 56ff. for a detailed
discussion and analysis of the concept of the grotesque
in Hoffmann's works.

59M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,

pp. 178‘790

 

 

 

 

60K. Negus, Hoffmann's Other World, p. 161.
61 . .

M. Eliade, Myth and Reality, p. 81
62

See J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
261-272. Kreisler's following self-irony in the analysis
of his name reminds us of Campbell's definition of myth
as the expression of the beginning in the end. The void
produces numbers of universal rounds; i.e., universes
are born, live and die and new ones are born again.
Within each universe numerous 'mini-rounds' take place,
and numerous others within them. The cycle is infinite.
Myth directs us to the silence and peace surrounding and
permeating the forms of the cycle. Creation myths remind
us that all forms must return to their source, and seem
to be tragic. But myth also emphasizes the imperishable
nature of this source of life. As such, myth can never
be tragic. For the beginnings of life are found in its
end, which is the void.

6389e H. G. Werner, E. T. A. Hoffmann. Darstellung
und Deutung, for a detailed discussion of this, esp. p. 7lff.

6“See p. 50, above.

6
5K. Negus, Hoffmann's Other World, p. 14; Negus
quotes Schlegel from: F. Schlegel, Seine prosaischen
Jugendschriften, ed. J. Minor (Wien, 1882), II, 358.

 

 

 

 

219

For both Schlegel and Hoffmann, then, the human mind
was the source of myth. The way to the Urquelle was
through the mind and spirit.

66This states the Serapionsprinzip upon which
the stories in the four volumes of Die Serapionsbrflder
are based (g1, V, VI, VII, VIII). The first story in
the first volume of Die Serapionsbrfider, "Der Einsiedler
Serapion" (g1, V, 16-32), tells of the hermit Serapion,
who lost all perception of duality and went insane. He
was mad in the sense that the only true knowledge lies
in the recognition of the duplicity of life. Any story
told by the brothers must root in objective reality and
grow out of the narrator's perception of the dualism
of this reality, as he really experiences it in his
mind's eye. The truth of the phantasy-world can be up-
held only by the tension which arises when it appears in
the middle of the real world. The tension is the signal
of its presence and thus the evidence of its truth. Any
story which does not root in objective reality in this
way fails to generate this tension and fails to portray
the real existence of the other world convincingly.

67See T. Cramer, Das Groteske bei E. T. A. Hoffmann,
p. 2h; Cramer calls irony an attitude; he defines the
grotesque as a form of appearance of an ironic attitude.
Irony is thus an intellectual means to the realization
of the other world through grotesque appearances.

68R. Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 76. Jung's theories
of the Collective and the Personal Unconscious are impli—
cit in Schelling's epistemology and in the writings of
the German Romanticists. Hoffmann's images and the
concept of the Unconscious, which the previous chapter
of this Paper has shown to posit "the presence of primitive
mythological images" of which the myth of the hero con-
sists, come together here in Schelling's epistemology,
therewith establishing another connection between Hoffmann
and the myth of the hero.

69

‘1

 

M. Eliade, Mythand Reality, p. 52.

70R. Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 37.

71See J. Hermand, "Der neuromantische Seelenvaga-
bund," Das Nachleben der Romantik in der modernen deutschen
Literatur. (Heidelberg, 1969), pp. 95-115, for his
discussion of this modern-day emissary of the spirit.

220

72See E. Bentley, A Century of Hero—Worship, p. 222
for his quote from D. H. Lawrence's Kangaroo (Chapter
XVI), where Lawrence defines such 'vibrations' as the in-
fluence of power and love emitted from the leaders of
society.

73See T. Cramer, Das Groteske in Hoffmann, p. 70ff.
The farther the artist probes for 'Anschauung,‘ the more
grotesque become the disparities of his existence in the
face of the Alltagswelt. Cramer offers this as an
explanation for the inconclusive nature of Hoffmann's
artist-tales: "Eine Kflnstlerexistenz, die fiber den
SpannungSZustand des Grotesken hinausgelangt, ist fur
Hoffmann nicht mehr darstellbar."

714H. G. Werner, E. T. A. Hoffmann Darstellung, p.
66ff. The following discussion and the quotes from
Hoffmann are based on Werner's presentation on these

pages.
75

 

R. Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 40.

 

76Joseph Campbell, The Masks of God: Creative
Mythology (New York, 1968), p. 23.

77Kreisler closes the letter by offering help to
those who might unconsciously feel as he does. This
suggests the hero's liberating role, but does not con-
tradict the fact that Kreisler's ironic view of Philistine
society precludes his ever trying to reconcile himself
with it.

78See T. Cramer, Das Groteske in Hoffmann, p. 82ff.
Cramer defines Callots Manier, the 'manner of Callot'
from the title of Hoffmann's first collection of tales:
Phantasiestucke in Callots Manier (2!, I), as the
grotesque expression of the reality which is lying behind
the world of appearances. All of the Kreisler-stories
are told "in Callots Manier."

79See M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,
pp. th-hZO. He discusses this concept of oneness as
the underlying purpose of myth. Myth reveals in action
and drama what theology and metaphysics reveal dialec-
tically: basically, that all opposites and attributes
are contained in them. "Religious man tries to imitate
the divine archetype revealed in myth." (p. #20)
Kreisler imitates it in music.

 

221

 

80See Hans.Mayer, "Die Wirklichkeit E. T. A.
Hoffmanns," Von Lessing bis Thomas Mann (Wflrttemberg,
1959), pp. 198-2h6.

81

K. Negus, Hoffmann's Other World, p. 22.
82 . . . . .
A variation on the Serapionsprinzip; see note
66 above.

83See J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
p. 20. The hero's second task in Campbell's presentation
is to return to the world of men after having found the
essence of the eternally human, the archetype, and tell
the secret of being born again, of renewing life.

81‘See R. Taylor, Hoffmann, p. 26ff. Taylor notes
here that Hoffmann's artists always remain in contra-
diction to the world, forcing them either to suicide
(Berthold in Die Jesuitenkirche zu G.) or into a complete
retreat from reality (Berklinger in Der Artushof).

85M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,
p. l3hff.

86R. Taylor, Hoffmann, pp. 31-3“.

87Ibid., p. 26.

88W. Segebrecht, Autobiographie und Dichtung,
Eine Studie zum Werke E. T. A. Hoffmanns, (Stuttgart,
1967), p. 121.

89J. Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p.

365.

90See M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion,
p. 108: "In whatever religious contexts you find them,
whatever sort of value is placed upon them — shamanist
rite or initiation rite, mystical ecstacy or oneiric
vision, eschatological myth or heroic legend - ascents,
the climbing of mountains or stairs, flights into the
air, and so on, all these things always signify a
transcending of the human and a penetration into the
higher cosmic levels."

 

BI BLI OGRAPHY

 

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