Conversations of Goethe with Eckerman and Soret by Johann Peter Eckermann

First published: 1836 and 1848

Type of work: Diary

Time of work: 1823-1832

Locale: Weimar, Germany

Principal Personages:

• Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
• Johann Peter Eckermann
• Frederic Soret

Critical Evaluation:

There is no doubt that Goethe must be classified as the outstanding genius of German literature. The question remains which of his works is the most important one. For some readers it is WILHELM MEISTERS LEHRJAHRE (WILLIAM MEISTER’S APPRENTICESHIP), the prototype of the educational novel or BILDUNGSROMAN. For others it is FAUST, the perennial favorite of German theater audiences. But many Goethe scholars usually place the CONVERSATIONS WITH ECKERMANN close to the top of the list. It seems that the absence of any requirement for literary form permits a greater appreciation of the universal knowledge which Goethe possessed. It is said also that Goethe was the only man of his time who was able to absorb the major part of knowledge which was then known to mankind. The power of a truly informed man, one gifted with unusual creative abilities, is demonstrated in these conversations. Thus the literary world is grateful to the efforts of Eckermann, who recorded these talks which cover the last ten years of Goethe’s long life. Eckermann critics claim that he is attempting to dramatize everything, and that a few entries are fictitious. These objections may be true, since Eckermann worshiped his idol, and some of the entries were made fifteen years after the death of Goethe.

Still, Eckermann’s conversations constitute the most complete record of the kind available. The shortcomings, obvious in any attempt to arrive at the true Goethe, were expressed by Goethe himself a few days before his death: “The best of our conviction cannot be put into words. Language is not adjusted to express everything.” In 1836, Eckermann published the first two volumes of the work. A third volume appeared in 1848, in which he also used a manuscript by Frederic Soret, another close friend of Goethe.

Eckermann born in 1792, grew up in poverty. Until he was fourteen years old, he did not even know that the fine arts existed. An urge to draw resulted in some fine sketches, which opened the door to a series of patrons. He also started to write poetry and sent some verses to Goethe, who responded with encouraging words. In 1823 he completed “Contributions to Poetry,” and looked for a publisher who would be willing to pay him a reasonable price. He sent his work to Goethe with the intention of obtaining Goethe’s recommendation to Herr von Cotta, a well-known publisher. To meet Goethe personally he started out on a strenuous journey by foot to Weimar. Here he became Goethe’s private secretary, a post which gave him the unique chance of witnessing all of Goethe’s social functions and provided many opportunities to talk with Goethe alone. Eckermann’s love of poetry and his quest to gain a deeper insight into “. . . what holds the world together” (Goethe, FAUST) qualified him as a worthy conversational partner. Eckermann himself, scholar enough to realize that it would be impossible to give a true perspective of Goethe, called his work simply “My Goethe.” However, he never acted as a selector or censor in the course of his work. Even when he was of the opinion that Goethe sometimes contradicted himself, he did not attempt to establish an artificial “Goethe viewpoint.” The result is a diary-styled compilation of notes which leave it to the reader to draw conclusions about the real meaning of Goethe’s opinions and statements. The English translation by John Oxenford has the merit of having arranged the entries of the three volumes in chronological order, not the case in the original edition. The very first entry points to the large range of interest of Goethe, and gives us some idea about his appearance:

The conversation turned principally upon mineralogy, chemistry, and natural science. The phenomena of the polarization of light appeared to interest him particularly. He showed me various preparations, chiefly after his own designs, and expressed a wish to make some experiments with me. . . . His figure is still to be called handsome; his forehead and eyes are extremely majestic. He is tall and well built, and so vigorous in appearance that one can scarcely comprehend how he has been able for some years to declare himself too old to enter into society, and to go to court.

It is not unusual to find Goethe discussing a Beethoven sonata, student songs, poetry, opera, or the translation of a Greek drama in one single conversation. Very early the reader also encounters Goethe as a man who has difficulty in adjusting to sickness. His abhorrence of sickness was to stay with him until the end.

The first entry by Eckermann himself on June 10, 1823, tells of Eckermann’s meeting with Goethe:

He received me with great cordiality; and the impression he made on me was such, that I consider this day as one of the happiest in my life. . . . The interior of the house made a very pleasant impression upon me; without being showy, everything was extremely simple and noble.

Goethe gave Eckermann several small assignments, which Eckermann performed to his satisfaction, and this accomplishment led to an invitation to stay on as Goethe’s secretary.

Goethe implored his young admirer to learn from the past:

Our errors were endured because we found no beaten path; but from him who comes later into the world more is required; he must not be seeking and blundering, but should use the instructions of the old ones to proceed at once on the right path. It is not enough to take steps which may some day lead to a goal; each step must be itself a goal and a step likewise.

Because Goethe considered Eckermann a true poet, he talked a great deal on the subject:

The world is so great and rich, and life so full of variety, that you can never want occasion for poems. But they must all be occasional poems; that is to say, reality must give both impulse and material for their production. A particular case becomes universal and poetic by the very circumstance that it is treated by a poet. All my poems are occasional poems, suggested by real life, and having therein a firm foundation. I attach no value to poems snatched out of the air.

And again:

What can be more important than the subject, and what is all the science of art without it? All talent is wasted if the subject is unsuitable. It is because modern artists have no worthy subjects, that people are so hampered in all the art of modern times. From this cause we all suffer.

Needless to say, there are thousands of lines which could be classified as the quotable Goethe, as when he advised Eckermann to

hold fast by the present. Every situation—nay, every moment—is of infinite worth; for it is the representative of a whole eternity.

Goethe, a great admirer of English literature, was impressed by Shakespeare’s dramatic creativity:

Shakespeare has already exhausted the whole of human nature in all its tendencies, in all its heights and depths, and that, in fact, there remains for him, the aftercomer, nothing more to do. And how could one get courage only to put pen to paper, if one were conscious in an earnest appreciating spirit, that such unfathomable and unattainable excellences were already in existence!

However, he gave his greatest praise to Lord Byron, with some reservations for Englishmen in general:

“Lord Byron . . . is to be regarded as a man, as an Englishman, and as a great genius. His good qualities belong chiefly to the man, his bad to the Englishman and the peer, his talent is incommensurable. . . . That which I call invention, said he, I never saw in anyone in the world to a greater degree than in him. His manner of loosing a dramatic knot is always better than one would anticipate.”

Frequently it is asserted that Goethe’s judgment in later years was influenced by his ministerial position in Weimar. When he heard about the arrest of Beranger, he commented:

He is rightly served. . . . His late poems are really contrary to all order; and he has fully deserved punishment by his offenses against king, state, and peaceful citizenship.

Also, his evaluation of Napoleon may be the result of his aristocratic environment:

Napoleon was the man! Always enlightened, always clear and decided, and endowed at every hour with sufficient energy to carry into effect whatever he considered advantageous and necessary. His life was the stride of a demi-god, from battle to battle, and from victory to victory. It might well be said of him, that he was found in a state of continual enlightenment. On this account, his destiny was more brilliant than any the world had seen before him, or perhaps will ever see after him.

Revolutions were to him justifiable in some cases:

It is true that I could be no friend to the French Revolution; for its horrors were too near me, and shocked me daily and hourly, whilst its beneficial results were not then to be discovered. . . But I was as little a friend to arbitrary rule. Indeed, I was perfectly convinced that a great revolution is never a fault of the people, but of the government. Revolutions are utterly impossible as long as governments are constantly just and constantly vigilant, so that they may anticipate them by improvements at the right time, and not hold out until they are forced to yield by the pressure from beneath.

It is not surprising that Goethe who had explored the natural sciences and the complexities of life expressed a reserved attitude toward freedom:

If we grant freedom to man, there is an end to the omniscience of God; for if the Divinity knows how I shall act, I must act so perforce . . . it is not good to meddle with divine mysteries.

His religious beliefs were free from any dogmatic conclusions. Naturally, for a man who wrote in FAUST one of the greatest dramas depicting the struggle between good and evil, religion was a much-discussed subject:

I believed in God and in Nature, and in the triumph of good over evil; but this was not enough for pious souls: I was also required to believe other points, which were opposed to the feeling of my soul for truth; besides, I did not see that these would be of the slightest service to me.

Sometimes he was impatient in discussing the ease with which people often treat matters of religion:

People treat it, as if that incomprehensible and most high Being, who is even beyond the reach of thought, were only their equal. Otherwise, they would not say the Lord God, the dear God, the good God. This expression becomes to them, especially to the clergy, who have it daily in their mouths, a mere phrase, a barren name, to which no thought is attached whatever. If they were impressed by His greatness they would be dumb, and through veneration unwilling to name Him.

He was equally impatient with immortality at one point:

This occupation with the ideas of immortality is for people of rank, and especially ladies, who have nothing to do. But an able man, who has something regular to do here, and must toil and struggle and produce day by day, leaves the future world to itself, and is active and useful in this. Thoughts about immortality are also good for those who have not been very successful here.

When he reflected on his own age, however, he was ready to talk about the subject in different terms:

At the age of 75 one must, of course, think sometimes of death. But this thought never gives me the least uneasiness, for I am fully convinced that our spirit is a being of a nature quite indestructible, and that its activity continues from eternity to eternity. It is like the sun, which seems to set only to our earthly eyes, but which in reality, never sets, but shines on unceasingly.

Goethe lived to the age of eighty-three. Until his death he tried to explore “what holds this world together.” His last audible remark was: “More light.” Eckermann remained his faithful secretary and eyewitness reporter until the end. He did not reach the age of Goethe but lived long enough to prepare his CONVERSATIONS before his death in 1854.