Die Debatte um Hanns Eislers "Johann Faustus": Eine Dokumentation.
Blake, David
Hanns Eisler's libretto to his opera "Johann Faustus"
was published by Aufbau-Verlag Berlin in 1952. It runs to seventy-six
pages of text and represents one of the most extended and complex
creative efforts of his life. Completion of the opera would have been a
summation of the intellectual, musical, and ideological questions that
had occupied him since his earliest years. In 1951 he had seen and
hugely enjoyed a performance of the Faust puppet play. For his libretto
he went back to this and the earliest sources and bypassed Johann
Wolfgang von Goethe. There are three acts with a prologue in the
underworld. The comic folk character Hanswurst plays an important part
and it is he who flirts with the servant girl Grete. Act 2 takes place
in Atlanta and includes three magic biblical scenes. Eisler's Faust
is the dark brother to Goethe's; it is despair that leads to his
involvement with magic, to his pact, not wager, with Mephistopheles. The
action is set at the time of Thomas Munzer and the Peasant's Revolt
of 1525 and it is because Faust betrays both the people and himself that
he is a negative figure whose final realization is that there can be no
true evolution for such a betrayer.
This fascinating and appalling book not only provides us in
documentary form with the reasons why the opera was never composed but
also gives a profound insight into the complex intellectual world of the
fledgling German Democratic Republic. Many of the protagonists in the
debate are major international figures - Ernst Fischer, Arnold Zweig,
Walter Felsenstein, Johannes R. Becher, and Bertolt Brecht. Such men,
returned from exile after the war, had invested in the GDR all their
hopes and aspirations for a better future for mankind, believing
profoundly in the potential of a Marxist-Leninist dialectic to create a
society free from the horrors of fascism and the manifest injustices of
capitalism. (It must be remembered that only at the Twentieth Party
Congress in Moscow in 1956 was the full extent of Josef Stalin's
atrocities revealed.)
The debate over "Johann Faustus" was sparked by an essay
published in the influential literary journal Sinn und Form in June 1952
by Fischer. In his entirely personal interpretation of Eisler's
text, Fischer used phrases which at once raised hackles throughout GDR
artistic circles: "Eisler's 'Doktor Faustus' will
become what we have lacked for a century: a German national opera"
(p. 36). "Faust stands for a character who is central to
Germany's calamity [Misere]. . . . [He is] the German humanist as
turncoat" (italics in original; p. 27). Strangely, Eisler at no
time criticized or disassociated himself from Fischer's article,
although so much of the argument that broke out seemed to be about
Fischer's text rather than Eisler's. The issue inevitably
became more than a literary one as it was still GDR policy to work
towards German unity. (It was then still possible to sing Eisler's
beautiful 1950 Brecht setting "Anmut sparet nicht noch Muhe,"
which speaks of the blooming of "a good Germany.")
Three special meetings of the so-called "Wednesday Society"
of the Academy of the Arts were held, on 13 May, 27 May, and 10 June
1953. Many of the participants understood that the proceedings might
well represent a literary controversy of historic significance. To
begin, Alexander Abusch read his essay "Faust - Hero or Renegade in
German Literature," which was published in the journal Sonntag four
days later. Faust's lofty humanistic ideals, presumably as
expressed by Goethe, make him for Abusch a "great and positive hero
of classical German national drama." Fischer had dated the
beginning of the "night of the German catastrophe" from the
putting down of the Peasant's Revolt and had asked why the Faust
saga had not mirrored this tragedy. As a renegade, he became a negative
hero. Foreseeably, Abusch summons Friedrich Engels (not to mention J. S.
Bach, Gotthold Lessing, Friedrich Schiller, Immanuel Kant, and so on) to
his aid in denouncing Fischer's denigration of the many-sidedness
and greatness of the German humanistic tradition.
Running through the entire debate was a feeling of resentment that
Eisler had challenged Goethe, that by his beginning again with the saga
and interpreting it anew, he had somehow wished to diminish Goethe.
Inevitably Thomas Mann's novel was frequently mentioned, but as
something different - a rewriting of the legend in modern terms in which
the actual personage of Johann Faust does not appear. This seemed to be
the sticking point. So much talk of a historical figure raised to mythic
status some three centuries later in the greatest work in German
literature, whose historical role was open to question (all in the
context of the immediate postholocaust years) seems to expose the depth
of the national trauma. Abusch therefore categorically stated that
Fischer's thesis is "unhistoric and anti-national."
The first to speak in the discussion that followed was Brecht, who
immediately tried to preempt any passionate response to Abusch by saying
that time would be needed to digest so many points but put his view that
Eisler's Faust is not a purely negative figure; indeed, were this
to be the case, all the many beauties of the text would be of no value.
In the twelve theses that he formulated for the second meeting, he
emphasised all the positive aspects and disagreed with Fischer's
basic premise of the German humanist as renegade. Zweig's first
statement was well meaning if a little bizarre in suggesting that
renaming Eisler's hero Knaust or replacing him with another
historical figure like Agrippa von Nettesheim would solve the problem.
The long statement by Wilhelm Girnus, who later became a
much-respected editor of Sinn und Form, was obviously prepared, as were
most of the subsequent ones, to judge by their length and density. He
turned out to be Eisler's (and Fischer's) most outspoken
critic. He maintained that a Faust portrayed as living at the time of
the Peasant's War must be a "heroic, spiritual figure."
Eisler shows German humanists typically as turncoats and German history
as a calamity. He concluded: "I believe Hanns Eisler has arrived at
this fundamentally false conception because he has a false, unpatriotic,
anti-patriotic conception of German history and a false conception of
the further development of realism under present conditions, a
conception which is based on a negation of the classics" (p. 73).
Anyone who knows anything of Eisler knows that nothing could be
further from the truth. In an attempt to end the first session
positively and refocus attention on Eisler's text, Brecht read
aloud the thirty-five four-line stanzas of Faust's Confessio, which
he considered, rightly, to be the kernel of the work. Eisler later said
that Faust, after all his wavering, "in his Confessio turns into a
human being, for self-knowledge makes him human and so this negative
figure also exhibits a positive streak." Regular tribute was made
to the libretto's literary merit, "astonishing" for a
musician.
There is no doubt that Eisler was hurt by much of what was said, in
spite of the support and positive reactions he had received from Mann,
Leon Feuchtwanger, Zweig, and Brecht. At the meeting of 27 May he
defended himself spiritedly and so successfully that his critics'
most extreme statements became manifestly foolish. For example, he
quoted Girnus, "'The Third Reich collapsed for the precise
reason that it was a betrayal of German humanism, so that in the
downfall of the Third Reich it was German humanism, the German
humanistic spirit which triumphed.' He (Girnus) should better have
said - it survived it! Can we describe 1945 as a victory for the German
humanistic spirit? Regrettably we cannot, friend Girnus. And one should
not polemicise against me with such crude arguments" (p. 141).
Sensibly, Eisler directed his subsequent points to those of
Girnus's criticisms that can be demonstrated to be
misinterpretations, wrong, or downright obtuse. There followed the first
contribution from the Eisler pupil Ernst Hermann Meyer, who in general
found the negative criticisms justified and virtually begged Eisler not
to "waste valuable years of his precious life on a subject doomed
to failure."
Brecht's role in all this was intelligent, calculated, and
diplomatic. Anxious to see a positive outcome for his close friend and
collaborator, his Twelve Theses were the most significant contribution
to the debate, helping to focus it when repetition was creeping in.
Although it was obvious that Eisler would have welcomed a point-by-point
discussion of these, this never came about, mainly because, in a quite
subtle way, the course of events was dominated by Girnus. The
Aufbau-Verlag publisher, Max Schroder, deplored the whole proceedings
and said Eisler had been ill-advised to publish the libretto before
composing the music and had been badly served by the discussion.
Felsenstein had earlier made the crucial point that a libretto has no
validity without the music.
At the third session, Brecht lost his temper, Becher spoke with a
passionate subjectivity that is rather touching, and Eisler's
impatience for the whole business to end became obvious. Strangely,
although references were made to Stalin and Andrei Aleksandrovich
Zhdanov, only once was the question of "socialist realism"
raised. When Girnus presumes that Eisler works according to its
principles, Eisler replies, "Of course. But this is an opera and I
know as yet no principles for a socialist-realist opera." Although
another meeting was planned, none took place. Eisler went to Vienna for
a few weeks and from there sent a letter dated 30 October 1953 to the
Central Committee of the SED. "An artist works on many levels and
as well as that which is easily understood, there must be the more
complicated. I need an atmosphere of good will, of trust and friendly
criticism in order to be able to work. Of course criticism is necessary
. . . but not criticism that kills enthusiasm, diminishes an
artist's standing and undermines his self-confidence. After the
attack on Faustus I lost all impulse to write music. I fell into a state
of deep depression such as I had hardly ever experienced" (p. 263).
Forty years on, with a wall built and demolished, it is easy to be
cynical about this sorry affair. That one of the century's major
figures should have been not forbidden but rendered spiritually
incapable of composing his magnum opus is deeply saddening. Fortunately
Eisler's spirit was a resilient one and he composed much more in
the last eight years of his life, ending it with his lovely Ernste
Gesange. The aftermath has its ironies. In 1974 the text was produced as
a play in Tubingen and at the Berliner Ensemble in 1982. A new edition
prepared by Hans Bunge was published by Henschelverlag in 1983 with a
long and valuable afterword by Werner Mittenzwei. The text's
literary merit is now recognized. This book offers a stimulating
intellectual challenge and important insights into another episode in
the "German calamity."
DAVID BLAKE University of York, England