45. Maeterlinck, The “Free Spirit”
Maurice Maeterlinck is one of the most outstanding experiences of the modern soul. Those whose sympathies lie with the apostles of world worship, with Darwin and Haeckel, feel a deep satisfaction when the Ghent “mystic” tells them: “All our organs are the mystical accomplices of a higher being, and we have never known a human being, but always a soul.” And nothing prevents those who inwardly cheer the words of Zarathustra, the god-killer, from feeling secret pleasure when Maeterlinck speaks of the depths of the divine with religious devotion. Zarathustra says: “It was the sick and dying who despised the body and the earth and invented the heavenly and the redeeming drops of blood: but even these sweet and dark poisons they took from the body and the earth!” One can feel these words as a release from millennia of religious prejudice and yet listen with approving satisfaction when Maeterlinck says: “The gods from whom we come reveal themselves to us in a thousand ways; but this secret goodness, which has not been noticed and of which no one has spoken directly enough, is perhaps the purest sign of their eternal life. We do not know where it comes from. It is simply there, smiling on the threshold of our souls; and those in whom it smiles most deeply and most often will make us suffer day and night, if they wish, without our being able to love them any less."
Until recently, Maurice Maeterlinck seemed to be a riddle. The tone of the Christian mystics was thought to be discernible in his speeches; and the godless people of the modern scientific worldview could not resist the lure of these speeches. The power of the idea that man has developed from lower organisms according to thoroughly ungodly, purely natural laws and that only this earth, not a heavenly paradise, can be the source of our joys, did not protect them from the magical sound of Maeterlinck's words: “We may indeed already act like gods, and all our lives proceed under infinite certainties and infallibilities. But we are blind men playing with jewels along the streets; and the man who knocks at my door, the moment he greets me, gives out spiritual treasures as wonderful as those of the prince whom I have snatched from death."
Since Maeterlinck published his latest work, La sagesse et la destin&e (Paris, Librairie Charpentier) in October last year, it is no longer difficult to resolve the contradiction referred to above. In this book, we encounter a modern soul that has freed itself from the egg shells of mysticism. We believe we hear Zarathustra's wilful wisdom when Maeterlinck speaks to us: “The intellect and the will should become accustomed to living, like victorious soldiers, from what makes war on them.” And the confession of the reviled Max Stirner seems to speak anew from sentences like these: “But we are told: love your neighbour as yourself! But if you love yourself in a narrow-minded and sterile way, you will love your neighbor in the same way. Learn to love yourself in a broad-minded, healthy, wise and perfect way; that is less easy than you think. The selfishness of a strong and clear-sighted soul is of much more beneficial effect than all the devotion of a blind and weak soul. Before you can be there for others, you have to be there for yourself; and before you can give yourself away, you have to secure yourself. Be assured that the acquisition of a fraction of your self-awareness is ultimately worth more than the sacrifice of your entire unconsciousness.»
And Stirner, who sang the praises of egoism in “Der Einzige und sein Eigentum” (The Ego and Its Own), would have to stand in awe of the idol of modern mystics when he says: “The soul does not grow greater through sacrifice, but in growing greater it loses sight of sacrifice, just as the wanderer, when he climbs higher, loses sight of the flowers of the valley. Sacrifice is a beautiful sign of inner compassion; but one should never cultivate compassion for its own sake.” Or: ‘The power that shines in our hearts should above all shine for itself. Only at this price will it also shine for others; and however small the lamp may be, let no one give of the oil that nourishes it, let no one give of the light that crowns it!’
Two years ago, when Maeterlinck's “Tresor des Humbles” appeared, the modern pagans had nothing to say to the mystics, who called the ecstatic Belgian one of their own. Today, after the publication of “La sagesse et la destinde”, the mystics will be less jubilant.
This peculiar development of Maeterlinck's should be pointed out here, in connection with the excellent German edition of “The Treasure of the Humble”, which has just been published (by Eugen Diederich, Leipzig and Florence) under the title: “The Treasure of the Poor. Translated into German by Friedrich von Oppeln-Bronikowski.”
Today, modern free spirits read every sentence of this book differently than they did two years after its publication. At that time, they only had a vague feeling that this book would bring them a breath of fresh air, which, despite some adverse ingredients, would bring a fresh scent of fir trees.
And it is precisely their rare satisfaction in listening to this stammering sage that the free spirits understand today. For these free spirits are often confused with shallow rationalistic minds, to whom the voice of the heart does not speak. They only allow reason and understanding to work within them, and therefore remain unaware of the freer impulses of the human soul, the instinctive impulses.
The free spirits are accused of being dry and rational. And they themselves are constantly afraid that the sober logic could kill the most valuable forces that unconsciously rule in the human soul.
But this fear is an unjust feeling of the human soul. It is true that the language of the mind is also that of common and banal people. But this language is no less the language of the deepest secrets of the existence of the world.
And the words that now express the everyday results of stock market speculation can, in the next moment, be the interpreters of profound truths.
And there is yet another. The friends of the modern scientific creed are often called materialists and are denied a sense of the divine. It is considered appalling when they see nothing in man, who is supposed to have been given existence by a God from heaven, but that he is “three-quarters a column of water and has inorganic salts in him,” which are more capable of influencing his existence than all the spiritual powers dreamed of.
Nietzsche, the evangelist of this world, the despiser of all divine things beyond this world, says: “The inorganic conditions us completely: water, air, soil, soil structure, electricity and so on. We are plants under such conditions.”
In all of us there is still something of the belief that we are degrading the world to something base and common when we strip it of the divine and see in it nothing but what we really perceive with our senses and our minds. We imagine that we are making man into an almost disgusting being when we admit to ourselves that he is made of the materials of this world, and that these materials also obey the laws of nature of this world.
But the natural, the earthly-ungodly, is not contemptible: only the erring human spirit has made it contemptible, because it has become accustomed through a long education to always only get into a devout mood when imagining something beyond. Our best minds are sick because they can no longer believe in the divine in the hereafter and yet cannot perceive the earthly-real as a substitute for the lost divine.
Nietzsche proclaimed the sanctity and divinity of this world in his “Zarathustra”. And Maeterlinck did the same in his “Tresor des Humbles”. Basically, both spirits are saying the same thing. Only Nietzsche emphasizes: All that is worthy of worship, all that is sacred: it is not a heaven and not an afterlife; it is an earth and a here and now. And man should not long for his heavenly paradise of bliss; rather, he should be the meaning of the earth. And Maeterlinck says: The ordinary, everyday is the only reality, but this reality is divine. “Here is John, pruning his trees, there is Peter, building his house, you, talking to me about the harvest, I, shaking your hand - but we are brought to a point where we touch the gods, and we are amazed at what we do.”