Soul of the Age

by Hermann Hesse

  I find that, on the whole, the moral impact of the war has been very positive. For many people, it was good to be shaken up out of that silly capitalist peace, and also for Germany. I think genuine artists will value a nation more highly if its menfolk have confronted death and experienced life in the POW camps. I don’t expect much else of the war, and we probably won’t be spared a new outbreak of jingoism.

  I simply don’t believe that the war is annihilating any genuine form of culture. While it’s true that beautiful individual works of art and, of course, valuable people too are being destroyed, the experience of war will strengthen the notion of culture, which can only thrive in a select intellectual environment. Even if the war induced only a fraction of enlisted youths to feel more deeply about life, and to pay more attention to indestructible values, and become less taken with silly nonsense, that gain would outweigh the loss of a few cities and cathedrals.

  This war is utterly extraordinary; I like the fact that it doesn’t make “sense,” isn’t about some trifling issue, and constitutes the upheaval signaling a major atmospheric change. Since the atmosphere used to be quite putrid, the change might even be a good thing. It’s not for to us to decide whether the price was high, perhaps excessive. Nature is always profligate; she places little value on individual lives. As for us artists or intellectuals, we have always kept apart and lived in a rather timeless world, so the only losses we have to fear are material ones, and that can always be endured. People with a profound understanding of Bach, or Plato, or Goethe’s Faust know in their heart of hearts that there is only one realm where peace and lasting meaning can be found. That realm is indestructible; it’s possible for each one of us to live there, and feel at home, and help expand it. But there are people who feel that they lost everything along with their material comforts, and so their suffering is greater than ours. They could, of course, also learn a lot from the experience. It may be good for them to realize that such things as stock-market indexes and menus, clubs, etc., no longer govern their lives, but rather such basic natural urges as hunger and the fear of death.

  That sounds fine, you may think, but what’s the point when thousands are shedding their blood each day? It’s certainly appalling. But life in the raw is always appalling, except that we’re now being reminded of this more savagely than usual. In peacetime, we denizens of the intellectual realm know little about the despair rampant everywhere, about the abominable practices in business and the rat race in general, the miserable conditions in the factories, coal mines, etc. I don’t find the ordinary life of the common herd much more preferable to war, and many of them now realize this themselves; they return from the front with a yearning for a life that is more rational, more beautiful, and better, in every respect, than their previous existence. If this is so, then the war will ultimately bring about some good. I view everything else much more skeptically, the frenzied patriotism, the spirit of sacrifice, etc. Like the war itself, that is transitory, and I don’t devote much attention in the top compartments of my mind to such transitory issues. I have seen in the eyes of hundreds of injured German soldiers the expression, either tired or excited, but always calm and superior, of men who have come face to face with death and no longer take anything else very seriously. The ordinary citizen would never be exposed otherwise to that attitude toward life. And a fine attitude it is.

  Carissimo, I have started preaching. I’m merely repeating some of my recent thoughts about the war. Culture, in our sense of the term, may indeed spell happiness. But at least until the first of August, official attitudes in Europe were of a different order: happiness was considered virtually synonymous with material comfort. People were preoccupied with the latter and had little time and resources left for real culture; then they went crazy and started killing one another. The only good thing about it is that the killing and slaughtering are no more meaningless than the previous state of supposed happiness.

  I was miserable again. But that is transitory. Long live Shakespeare!

  Greetings to your dear wife! The children are doing their best to wreck their new toys. That’s life.

  TO ROMAIN ROLLAND102

  Bern, February 28, 1915

  I was really delighted to receive your kind note. I’m answering in German, since I have enough French for comprehension and reading, but not for writing.

  I don’t know whether you have heard about the plans to start an international review in Switzerland. The journal would offer a neutral forum for dialogue and debate among intellectuals in the belligerent countries. French contributors are needed; there are already enough Germans. I was asked to manage the journal and people were also hoping to rope you in. I’m a retiring poet, and lack the necessary stamina. And, as a result, the review is being set up by a Swiss-German103 and a Genevan. I’m letting you know just in case. Herr G. de Reynold is the Genevan editor.

  I don’t have any personal connections with Die Weissen Blätter,104 but I wrote to the publisher saying you would like to get to know them. Although there are quite a few crude youngsters among them, many are decent and well intentioned.

  You already know how deeply I regret the silly hatred that is creating such strife concerning supranational issues among thinking people. I have become convinced in the meantime that more and more people will begin to recognize the absolute necessity of your “union de l’esprit européen.” At the moment, I’m refraining from all political-sounding pronouncements; there seems to be a magic wand transforming every burst of applause into an expression of hostility. There is still a lot of hatred, but that will eventually wear off. I was glad to discover that you’re acquainted with a few of my books. So you can imagine why I especially cherish the childhood story of Jean Christophe.

  TO ALFRED SCHLENKER

  [ca. March/April 1915]

  My dear Fredi,

  [ … ] People with reasonable ideas about the war are talking increasingly about the future of Europe, and not just of Germany. Although that pleases me, I see the unification of Europe merely as an early stage in the history of mankind. The methodical mentality of Europe will rule the world for some time to come, but in matters of spirituality and religious values, the Russians and Asians have a greater depth, which we shall eventually need again. Now that the morality, self-discipline, and rational capacities of our leading intellectuals have sunk to such depths, we can finally acknowledge that nationalism isn’t all that ideal. I like to consider myself a patriot, but first a human being, and whenever a conflict arises, I side with the human being. As Goethe said to Eckermann: “The most fervent expression of nationalistic hatred occurs at the lowest cultural levels.”

  By the way, there are now quite a few good, clear voices to be heard preaching reason, and many soldiers in the field no longer accept the notion that entire peoples are at war; they regard their adversaries as brothers, with whom there has been a quarrel over some blunder or misunderstanding, and they will soon be brothers again. And before long the people who wrote those venomous articles and hate-filled songs about England, Russia, etc., will have to hang their heads in shame. Then there are the jaded hacks who suddenly “saw the light” about the war and started contradicting their previous convictions, only to reverse themselves again with equal flexibility.

  I have nothing but admiration for the vitality and unity characteristic of the current mood in Germany, but my love for the country is such that I cannot abide any outbursts of jingoistic patriotism. We cannot go on blaming everything on England, Russia, etc.: if we don’t start examining ourselves critically and rooting out our flaws, things will only get worse.

  I’m expecting some good news in the near future. The truce, which I also consider sacrosanct, shouldn’t restrict our freedom, and it won’t. Many patriots are sick of the phrasemongering; the very best of them are still in the trenches, and when they finally get back, they will help with the cleaning-up. That will do some good. The soldiers are bravely proving their mettle, whereas the literati and many of the schola
rs are showing their cowardice by hastily joining the chorus of philistines, even if they happened to have been leading liberals at a time when that didn’t require much courage.

  Well, things will work out eventually, although not necessarily right away. There will be some setbacks, but I think some progress will be made and that a sense of responsibility will develop. It’s a good sign that there was a remarkable consensus along these lines among the younger literati. If you can lay hands on a copy of Das Forum105 or Die Weissen Blätter, you will see how true this is.

  Would have really liked to come and see you at some point, both to show you my teeth, which have not been checked for ages, and to find out what’s up and how you people are doing. But I cannot get away now; crossing the border is both difficult and expensive, and I must wait till I see what my military future is.

  Let’s hear from you again! [ … ]

  TO MATHILDE SCHWARZENBACH106

  Bern [end of September 1915]

  Having just returned from Germany, I would like to let you know right away that I’m back; my leave lasts until the middle of November, and will then be renewed, I hope. But I fear that the war will eventually devour all of us. Last week, a cousin of mine in Stuttgart was pronounced fit for duty, even though he is small and frail and used to be considered unfit for military service; compared to me, he is a real dwarf. The Balkans will soon be devouring lives,107 and there are also the tens of thousands thrown away during the silly mass offensive of the French.108

  Well, I’m still here for now; this new kind of work is keeping me busy. I have just been asked to supervise the POW libraries, which are being sent to France via Bern. I have examined the holdings in Stuttgart; they have quite a lot of books there, but don’t have sufficient funds to expand our collection systematically.

  I realize that the POW libraries—along with the prisoners’ newspaper, which I’m producing single-handedly—offer a unique opportunity for some adult education work, and I have accepted the position. I shall do everything I can to expand the service. We have already used up all the money and books that I was able to donate, and I’m trying to raise some more money; a few hundred francs would allow me to implement most of my plan. I’m trying to enlarge all the small POW libraries so that each one carries a selection of the best German literary works in cheap editions. Everything is set to go: I have scoured the relevant publishers’ catalogues, and as soon as we get enough funds, which I’m trying to raise discreetly, we can send off the orders. Of course, an appeal to the German public would produce quick results, but I have no right to compete with the Red Cross collections, and must save whatever funds I have left over for the larger project, the POW paper.

  I was wondering whether you might not like to help, since it’s a good cause and those POWs need our compassion. I never expect large sums nowadays. If, in addition to the amount I’m donating, a small number of my friends contribute 50 to 100 francs or marks per person, my plans will be salvaged. These new duties have turned my study into an office. I have become an office worker; it’s not bad for a short while, but I couldn’t stand it for very long, not to speak of forever! I would prefer to join a German battalion and vanish into oblivion. But I do hope to accomplish some worthwhile things. At some stage, I should like to escape to Zurich for a bit of rest, but it’s still not altogether clear whether that will be possible. For now, I would like to ask you to contribute to my project, if you can. If you cannot give anything or don’t feel so inclined, I trust you will forgive me for asking. Now that I have taken over this project, I feel I have to promote it by every means at my disposal. The misery crying out for attention all over the world is such that I want to do whatever I can in my little patch.

  TO COLONEL BOREL

  Bern, October 12, 1915

  I heard from Professor Woltereck some time ago that you had expressed interest in our plan to set up a special weekly paper for German prisoners in France.109 Shortly afterward, I found out that Herr Ador110 of Geneva had promised to try to persuade the French government to allow us to distribute the paper in France.

  This was quite a few weeks ago, and we have not heard anything yet.

  Dear Sir, could I take the liberty of asking you whether you are interested in my plans? I’m convinced that the project is very worthwhile, and my approach is humanitarian rather than patriotic. I see the paper as a unique forum for educating the public. The prisoners, especially those who are uneducated or only half educated, face spiritual and intellectual dangers that are certainly far greater than those confronting the soldiers at the front. And we now have a chance to supply tens of thousands of them each week with reading matter that really caters to their needs. This presents us with an altogether unusual opportunity to comfort tens of thousands of poor suffering souls in a discreet and undidactic manner. We hope to have a positive influence on their thinking, but I want to make sure that we exclude all denominational biases as much as possible.

  Dear Colonel, I’m very keen on this plan and consider it extremely important. If you are interested, and wish to help us carry it out—your role might consist merely of getting in touch occasionally with the French Embassy or with Herr Ador—I would ask to meet you for ten minutes at your convenience, so that I can give you some idea of the sort of paper we have in mind. I have the plan all worked out, and much of it could be implemented straightway. I become anxious when I feel this issue is being put on the back burner and might be shelved.

  I’m also trying to enlarge the POW libraries, which were sent here from Stuttgart and are destined for a hundred camps in France, with the idea of providing adult education in literature. After inspecting the selection of books in Stuttgart, I took charge of the project, with some financial help from friends. The necessary arrangements are being made very quickly indeed, and I expect that the office headed by Herr von Tavel111 will soon be able to get to work. I’m in touch with Herr von Tavel. With sincere and respectful greetings, yours

  TO THE EDITORS OF DER KUNSTWART, MUNICH112

  Bern, October 23, 1915

  While working at home and elsewhere on behalf of our prisoners in France, I was subjected to some vociferous and occasionally coarse attacks by a small segment of the northern German press. I only found out later about these aspersions. The reason for these attacks is a “letter” of mine, which is supposed to have appeared in a Danish newspaper. I have never seen the Danish newspaper in question, and none of the papers engaging in these polemics had the decency to inform me of their accusations. Hence the delay in responding.

  That “letter” consists of a short note that I wrote to Sven Lange, thanking him for a kindly favor. Although I never expected that this purely private communication would ever appear in print, I would willingly reiterate and reaffirm every word of it before a court of law.

  There were two sentences that got people excited: “I haven’t been able to tailor my literary output to the war” (meant somewhat ironically) and “It is my hope that Germany shall continue to impress the world not just through its weaponry but, more importantly, through its mastery of the art of peace and its endeavors to further a genuinely supranational humanism.”

  What really agitated my antagonists, I’m sure, was the word “supranational.” Well, it’s up to each individual to decide whether to accept that there are broader, human responsibilities which transcend all national obligations. It seems to me that a person who assumes that a given people is fully conscious of those broader obligations is bestowing a signal honor on that nation.

  I now realize that this view is not shared by everybody. So I would like to emphasize my conviction that all peoples have “supranational” obligations, especially the major nations. I need hardly cite chapter and verse for this in Goethe, Kant, and indeed all serious German thinkers, with the exception of a certain section of the press.

  I find it almost harder to understand how anybody can think ill of a writer merely because he refuses to churn out war novellas and battle songs. Surely, all o
f us should not feel compelled to do so, just because some editor has asked us, or because we’re having difficulty making ends meet, but only because we feel an inner need? I don’t think so. In my case, I have long since abandoned literary life in order to volunteer my services on behalf of the prisoners. Moreover, each time a group of fanatic German militarists annoys the neutral countries with their provocative statements, I try to smooth things over the best I can. Many people here think the recent attacks against me and my Weltanschauung are part of the same phenomenon; I have had some difficulty explaining that this misguided fanaticism isn’t at all prevalent in Germany, and that aside from a few journalists, nobody in our Germany believes a writer ought to be punished merely because he cherishes the art of peacemaking.

  A section of the press is acting according to the Kaiser’s wonderful aphorism, since it only heeds the parties and subjects any opinions deviating from the party program to merciless attack. That section of the press ought to be reminded that it is merely providing the enemy with material for propaganda leaflets, making it harder for Germans living abroad to do their work, and creating obstacles for German diplomacy. Here in Switzerland, for instance, we have many hundreds of volunteers from neutral countries working with us, people who were deeply affected by the plight of those injured in the war, and are now helping to track down the soldiers missing in action, assisting our prisoners and internees, and performing many other errands of mercy. In the Swiss welfare offices, I have seen dozens, indeed hundreds, of pleading letters written by German mothers about missing sons or daughters who disappeared inside enemy territory. How does that small section of our press respond to these volunteer efforts? By bad-mouthing neutral countries! Their tactics are foolish and run counter to our official diplomacy. I don’t wish to question the good faith of these journalists, but I would urge them to think about the damage they are inflicting! I hereby invite each of these gentlemen to spend a week in Bern, so that they can examine our work in a neutral country, especially the labor of love on behalf of the prisoners. This might change their attitude toward the neutral countries and those of us who live abroad; they might think twice in the future before subjecting us to such destructive attacks.