The Art Of Recitation And Declamation

GA 281 — 1 December 1912, Berlin

Ludwig Uhland Matinée

It would have been nice if we could have opened our art room earlier and brought today closer to the anniversary of Ludwig Uhland's death on November 13. Since this was not possible, today at least we want to recall his life with some sounds that came to us from the great poet Ludwig Uhland. If one wanted to describe what is essential for his poetry, one could characterize Ludwig Uhland with a single word. One need only say: Uhland is one of those poets who are thoroughly healthy in every respect. Healthy in his feelings, in his thinking, healthy in his head and heart, that was Ludwig Uhland. And if you want to get to know him, if you want to feel your way into what inspired him to write poetry, you can see that there were two things that constantly filled his heart insofar as he was a poet. The first was a deep, emotional love of nature. However uplifting it might be for him to look at works of art that perhaps proclaimed the beauties of ancient times, he preferred to admire the great art of the forces of nature. And so it is spoken from the bottom of his heart when he says, as if in a creed in a poem:

Not in cold marble stones,
Not in temples dull and dead,
In the fresh oak groves
Weaves and rustles the German God.

And this was not just an artistic sentiment for him, but from his boyhood on, this feeling of being at one with nature was something that took hold of his entire being. He could say of himself:

There was no better pleasure in those days
than to penetrate the forest
where the thrush sings and the hawk cries,
where deer and roe deer leap.

Then his heart opened up to nature, and he felt the warmth in his soul, which is expressed in his strong, healthy poetic sounds.

The other thing was his preference for the times in European life when the great events of the people were told in legends, not just experienced in an external way. Today's man can no longer really understand these times of the Middle Ages. One must try to revive a little in oneself, before all observation, the soul that lived in people at that time, in order to feel what a person in Central Europe felt about the great deeds of world history, on which the weal and woe, the elevation and happiness and suffering of people depend. In those days, people did not learn history from schoolbooks; it was quite different from what it is today, when we sit down in school and the schoolboy begins to tremble when the teacher asks: When did Charlemagne reign? and he then says, sweating: Then he lived – and so on. It was not like that at all back then, but rather more like the way in which one is more likely to get an idea if one is still lucky enough to let the last remnants take effect on oneself, how people back then spoke to each other about such great people who were much involved in the weal and woe of history, as, say, about Charlemagne. And since personal experiences are always the most vivid, I would like to start with a little story that represents something like a last remnant of the way people in earlier centuries spoke of history.

When I was a boy, I knew an elderly man who was employed in a bookshop. He was from Salzburg. There is the Untersberg mountain there. And just as people say that Barbarossa is in the Kyffhäuser, they say that Charlemagne is still in the Untersberg. And that man once said to me: Yes, it's quite true, Charlemagne is sitting in our Uhntersberg. I said: How do you know that? He said: When I was a boy, I went to the Untersberg with a firm stick, and I found a hole. And since I was a bad rascal, I immediately let myself into this hole. I let my staff down and then let myself down. Right, I came down very deep. And there was a large palace-like cave, all lined with crystal. That's where Charlemagne and old Roland sit inside, and their beards have grown terribly long. – I don't want to encourage the boys present to do that; only a native of Salzburg can do that. Now I said, “Have you really seen Charlemagne and Roland, my dear Hanke?” He said, “No, but they are there!” You see, a piece of something that really existed in Central and Western Europe in the Middle Ages was still alive there. And when people sat around the stove in winter and the parents told the children about Charlemagne and his heroes, how did people tell the younger ones, for example, about the great Charles who once ruled over the Franks, and about his heroes, who included Roland, Olivier and so on?

If we could listen to such a story, as was common in those days, we would hear the following: Yes, Charlemagne was a wonderful person, blessed by Christ. He was completely imbued with the idea that he had to win Europe for Christianity. And just as Christ himself was surrounded by twelve apostles, so Charlemagne was surrounded by twelve people. He had his Roland, just as Christ had his Peter. And there were the heathens in Spain, against whom he marched, because he wanted to spread Christianity among them, with his twelve people.

At that time, the Bible was read less, but also treated more freely. The people told stories at the time of Charlemagne in such a way that the way they told them was reminiscent of biblical stories, because they did not look at what they knew from the Bible in such a rigid way, but took it as a model. And it became the case for medieval people that they talked about Charlemagne in a similar way to the way they talked about Christ.

Roland had a mighty sword, so it was said, and a mighty horn. He once received the sword Durendart from Christ himself when he felt very fervent as a champion of God. And with this sword, which he received from Christ, he, who was the nephew of Charlemagne, went to Spain. Now it was further told that Charlemagne not only did everything possible to ensure that Roland grew up to be an exceptionally capable and proven hero, but it was generally said of him that, with strength and perseverance, he became a champion of God to the greatest degree, as people rightly suspected.

When Charlemagne marched on Zaragoza, they wanted to try to convert the Moors to Christianity, and on the advice of Roland, an ally of Roland, Ganelon, was chosen to negotiate with the pagan population of Spain. Ganelon was spoken of as if he were the Judas among the twelve companions of Charlemagne. This Ganelon said: If Roland persuades Charlemagne to send me to the pagan population, they will persuade me to death. Ganelon negotiated with the enemies. They surrendered in pretence, so that Charlemagne withdrew, leaving only his faithful Roland behind. And when Charlemagne had left, the enemies approached Roland, and he saw himself surrounded by the whole horde of enemies, he, the strong hero, the champion of God.

Now there is a beautiful train that is always told, that should express something. They always told of the close relationship between Charlemagne and Roland. It was not so quiet for Charlemagne that he had left Roland behind. But then he heard Roland's call. From this, the saga has made that Roland blew into his horn Olifant. The name Olifant already suggests that Karl sensed it. And then the saga tells that Roland wanted to smash his sword on the rock; but it was so strong that it remained whole, only the sparks sprayed. Believing himself lost, he surrendered the sword to Christ.

This same Roland then lived on in the sagas with Charlemagne. And most of the sagas are such that one can see how people have adopted the poetically beautiful content of the Bible. You can see it in Roland's fight with the heathens. But this act, how Roland faces his enemies with his sword and horn and they surround him on all sides, how he wants to smash his sword on the rock and how he then dies for a cause that was told everywhere and found important, this is infinitely significant, as if predestined for poetry.

And the thoughts that have once sunk into the souls, we see them again, even where in the 12th century through the priest Konrad was inserted into the German language the death of Roland. And the connection of the human soul with the whole of nature, one could not imagine it differently at that time than when such a person dies, then everything possible also happens outside in nature. This scene was still being wonderfully depicted in the 12th century by the cleric Konrad.

He relies on his weak arm,
which he does not hold low,
which he extends up to
the Almighty Lord,
to whom he commands his soul:
with St. Michael,
St. Gabriel, St. Raphael,
he entrusts himself forever more.
When Ruolant from the world departs,
from heaven there comes a Michael light,
since after a while I was born in Pibble, the sun and the stars in the two empires of China and Spain. The winters were long there, they fell like the ancient trees; the people harvested their crops, they saw the fearful sky brighten, the sun shining, the rest; the heath was burning, she sank in the sun, in the water she drowned. The bright day
became dark as night.
The towers fell to the ground,
the beautiful palace was destroyed.
The stars scattered;
the weather grew worse:
they all wanted to prove
that the time had come
that the world should come to an end,
and God would have his judgment.

Thus they spoke of Roland's death. And at the same time we can form an idea of the changes in language since 1175. From this you will see how everything in the world changes and changes quickly. The language was richer and more intimate. Until the time of the Crusades, something like the saga of Charlemagne lived in almost every house in our regions, all the way down to Sicily and up to Hungary. It touched people's souls, and today we have no idea how these things were back then.

Ludwig Uhland was unique in this field, delving so deeply into things. And he not only expressed what he felt in many a beautiful poem, but there are also books in which he brings to life the ancient times of the German people. The fact that Uhland, on the one hand, had an infinite love for nature and, on the other, a warm heart for the lost sagas that have lived and that today only need to be artificially invoked, is something that one should actually know better than one knows it. And one can hope that even if some of the fashions in poetry that are around today can sometimes “inspire” hearts, a time may come again when one can gradually learn to create like Uhland. He loved communicating directly from soul to soul the most of all. And it actually dawned on me what Ludwig Uhland was able to be to young people, also in turn, when I was able to feel an echo in my own life.

I had learned most of all how to express thoughts in language, and to grasp thoughts that now introduced me to the spiritual life with my heart, by being allowed to participate with my late teacher Karl Julius Schröer in what he called “exercises in oral presentation and written expression”. He would listen to us and then say a few words in which he placed himself at the level at which we ourselves were. It was a very stimulating experience. Where did Schröer get that? Because he knew Uhland! It was a very lively collaboration with the young people. Uhland did it.

And so we may say: the 50th anniversary of the death of Ludwig Uhland, who died on November 13, 1862, may mean something in the hearts of people who are still receptive to genuine, healthy poetry and have feelings , may mean something, may mean that one must always return to those who, in connection, bring us together as people who live in the present, with all that humanity has experienced in earlier and ever earlier times.

Uhland's connection to earlier times was twofold. First, he himself still had much of the character and personality of strong, indomitable characters, who are becoming increasingly rare in the present day. One need only recall that in 1849 Uhland spoke the weighty words that he could not imagine a German empire without a drop of democratic oil having been poured into it. He stands there like a refreshing and, in its strength, self-reinforcing German oak. He also rejects, with all his striving and living, with his art in times when the intimate, far-reaching folk fantasy flourished and lived, which brings together the past and the present in a heartfelt way, the inheritance of the soul that humanity has from its predecessors with that which moves the present.

We do not always think about how small the time span is that separates us from something that is very different from us. Let us think, it is about 800 years that separate us from the time when people in Germany spoke and wrote as I have read to you. There are twenty-four generations in eight hundred years. If you imagine these generations reaching out to each other, you have the time when Pfaffe Konrad tried to write this touching scene into German hearts. And it was Uhland's particular concern to renew this, to allow some of it to be felt again.

So it is that we remember today, albeit a little late, the anniversary of the death of Ludwig Uhland, and on this day we remember the man who tried to capture so much of the beauty and grandeur of nature, of the beauty and grandeur of Central European prehistory, in his poetry. He deserves to be revived in the hearts of people who want to know about such healthy, genuine, true poetry, and they will always be there, as will some fashionable illnesses and fads that would like to separate souls from this poetry of the real and the true.

The order of the poems in the lecture is not known.