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Paul Celan (German: 23 November 1920 – c. 20 April 1970), born in Czernowitz, was born in Bukovina Czernowitz, whose real name was Paul Antschel, and has long been an open secret. However, the knowledge of Bukowina arose from the perennial work of the scholars Israel Chalfen, Barbara Wiedemann, Gerhart Baumann, Petre Solomon, Edith Silbermann, and others. After meticulous research, especially after Celan won the Bremen Prize in 1958, this "place where there are more bookstores than bakeries and where people live with books" in scholars' books is no longer "the informal, historyless disappearing Habsburgermonarchie, former provinces", as Celan previously described, and its literature and history have been restored.
We understand that in July 1941, when romanian soldiers united with Nazi Germany, led by the supreme commander of Nazi Germany, invaded Chernivtsi, then under Soviet rule, began an act of plunder and murder there, burning down the cathedral. We also know that on October 11, 1941, the first Jewish quarter (Ghetto) in the history of the city was established in Chernivtsi, and 45,000 Jews were soon exterminated by transporting Jews to Transnistrien. The then mayor took advantage of the method of re-establishing the issuance of so-called "labor permits" to hand over 15,000 Jews as coolies to the Germans, including Paul Ancher, who was only 21 years old at the time, and was forced to join the coolies that rebuilt the Pruitt Bridge.
This is only a temporary situation. In June 1942, the work permit ceased to work. Paul's girlfriend, Ruth, found a hiding place for the Ancher family, where a Romanian pharmacist lived, only to be rejected by Paul's mother, Fritzi. Risking being followed, Paul would go there alone every weekend that summer. But he knew that the laborers would use saturday-Sunday nights to arrest people everywhere. It wasn't until one Monday that he found his parents' house sealed.
Less well known is that the young Ancher took his girlfriend's advice and registered with the "Labor Department" in July 1942. So the proposal was based entirely on security concerns to avoid deportations and was not at all "voluntary" as Leonard Forster wrote in 1985. This was followed by three years of coolies, sent to the important military facility of Tabarracti bei Buzau for road construction, along with Franz Auerbach, later director of the Jewish City Theatre in Bucharest, and moses Rosenkranz, a young poet of the time, who later wrote the following verse for their common encounter: "In the Language of the Murderer."
At that time, the barracks had not yet been built, and these sleepy-eyed men who had done hard work during the day could only sleep in the wilderness, and there was only some straw under them. Fortunately, those who had just arrived in concentration camps— who wanted to win their working hours, used their authority to treat prisoners with humanity. Some of the older people in Tabalati still remember that the "German" — a word ironic from the mouths of German-speaking Jews — sold much-needed hard-boiled eggs, milk and fried doughnuts to Romanian guards under the noses of their eyes. Of course no one will remember Paul Ancher.
Shortly after arriving at the labor camp, we can learn from a letter he wrote to his girlfriend: "You asked me in the last letter if I could write a letter. I can't, Lute, I don't have any time. （...... You want me not to despair. Ruth, I'm not desperate. But I was worried about my mother, because she had been sick and would certainly be worried about my situation, and I left without even saying goodbye, probably goodbye. ”
In his free time, he spent writing—on Sundays, when others gathered to chat——, and translated Shakespeare's sonnets.
These elements paint the reader with the image of an introverted, lonely, taciturn young man at the time, and instead confirm the poet's poetry—every word, to be precise: a microcosm of Celan's other poetic content, such as poetry:
Torch Parade
The comrades held torches in their hands and stood firm. The distance is just barbed wire. The land is covered with mud. Comrades shake the torch, and my torch smokes. Your soul, it
Flames are needed. Comrades hang down the torch. Extinguish it. Think about how to live. How to die.
Torchlight procession
Comrade, raise the torch, and set the foot tightly. Distance is only wire tissue. And the earth mud. Comrade, the torch swinging, my torch smoking. Your soul is a thing,
that needs fire now. Comrade, lower the torch, and extinguish it. Think about how life is. And dying like.
Perhaps one of Celan's early poems, "The Torch Parade" was based on the rare vierhebigen Trochäus based on a simulated march that came from nowhere, and its poetic style is monotonous and cookie-cutter. Descriptive elements appear only in the first verse of the three verses: footsteps, mud, barbed wire, unreachable distances that shatter hope. The three appearances of "comrades" correspond to the "I" in the middle verse of the poem, and at this time my torch is only smoking, and it is in a situation that cannot burn and is about to be extinguished. At this point, the intention of the poem suddenly changes, no longer the material elements, but the non-material elements, the soul, and now needs to spew out fire—thus thinking of the burst of the light of life—and the next third verse expresses the poet's will to survive. Finally, in the face of the possibility of entanglement in some part of the verse, the poet uses "how" at the beginning of one verse and then appears again at the end of the next verse: Einem Dahinvegetieren sei der Tod vorzuziehen.
At this time, the poet's parents did not appear in the poem. On the west bank of the Sibug River was a quarry under the iron fist of Romania at the time, and the Ancher family was transported to Ladijin, a small town eight kilometers away, from where it was transported to the small village of Michailowka before settling down. Subsequently, Celan's mother worked in the cafeteria, while his father, Leo Antschel, who was a construction technician, was ship to Gaisin labor on September 17, 1942, and died shortly after. There are two and contradictory causes of death, one is to be shot, as Petre Solomon put it, and the other is to die of typhoid fever, as Edith Silbermann reported.
As for how Paul learned of the disappearance of his father, we can only guess why, but one thing is very clear, in Chernivtsi he was allowed to perform the Jewish funeral custom of "sitting seven" (Schiwa), sitting barefoot on a stool for seven consecutive days. The poem Schwarz Flocken, written in the winter of 1942, was the only poem of the time that explicitly mentioned his father and recalled his contradictory relationship with him—and again used a fictitious dialogue with his mother to describe ——, based on his Zionist stance, not as a political condemnation of Celan, but as a betrayal of the German language homeland:
Black snow flakes
It was snowing and there was no light. A round of moon, perhaps two years old, autumn under the monk's burqa The Messenger also brought me, a leaf from the slopes of the Ukrainian mountains:
"Think about it, this is also winter, and now it has been thousands of times in the country, where the greatest current flows: Jacob's heavenly blood, the blessing of the axe... Oh, the non-earthly blood ice – her Getman is waiting, with everything in the dark sun... Oh a cloth towel, kid. Wrap yourself in it and make it look like a helmet, if the soil, rose-colored, burst, if the snow shatters the bones of your father, sobbing under the hooves The song of cedar... A cloth towel, just a narrow handkerchief, I am real now, because you learn to cry, around me In the narrow world, never green, my child, your child! «
Bleeding, Mom, autumn is leaving me, the snow is burning me: I'm looking for my heart, it's crying, I'm finding the breath, oh summer, he's just like you. Tears welled up. I weave this little hand towel.
Black flakes
Snow has fallen, lightless. It is already a moon or two that autumn under monastic cowl brought message also to me, a leaf from Ukrainian heaps:
"Think that it is winter here too, for the thousandth time now in the land where the widest current flows: Jacob's heavenly blood, beneeded by axes ... O ice of unearthly redness -- your hetman wades into the dark suns with all his entourage... Child, oh a cloth, to cover me in it, when it flashes from helmets, when the plaice, the rosy, bursts, when snowy dusts the bones of your father, under the hooves contrite contrite the song of the cedar ... A cloth, a cloth only narrow, that I true now, since you learn to cry, to my side the narrowness of the world, which never greens, my child, your child!«
Bleeding, mother, autumn away from me, the snow burned me: if I look for my heart, that it cries, I found the breath, oh of summer, he was like you. The tear came to me. I weave the little cloth.
In his later early poems in Bucharest, Celan continued to use the rhetoric of this poem: long rhymeless verses, gestures of the ancient language of the Bible, contradictory (Oxymorons) "black snowflakes", and many lines of poetry intertwined, in a sense of displacement (from concrete to abstract: Moon Mond/Month Monat; Father Boat/Song Lied), etc., thus creating ambiguity.
The words came from a letter, a month or two ago, from the quarry of Cariera de Piatra, "The Slopes of Ukraine", sent to the Tabaracti, that is, in the autumn. Autumn and winter in the four seasons are mentioned again in the verses at the end of the poem. The summer in the poem is merely a metaphor for a "breath", evoking the extreme experience of burning, a scorching snow.
Based on this experience, the mother's message, written in the middle verse, is that with the kingdom of ten million years, the people of Israel have begun the winter of ten million years for the old testament to represent Jacob's name. (Moses 32, 29: "He said; your name is no longer Jacob, but Israel.") But Jacob always lost in the battle against God. It is not that life is blessed, nor is it a resonance of "your fetus is blessed," as the Virgin Mary says, but death, "a blessing from the axe." The poem is represented by Ukraine's long anti-Semitic tradition. In 1976, Marlies Janz wrote in his book Zur Lyrik und Ästhetik Paul Celans: "By talking about the story of 'Getman', 'Black Snowflakes' compared fascist genocide to the holocaust of Jews and Poles perpetrated by the Greek Orthodox Cossacks between Jews and Poles in 1648, which had committed heinous crimes. The Cossack Geitman Chmielnitzky led his troops and tribes all the way to Gurahumora, a small town located south of Bukowina.
The chain of Jewish defeat was thus lifted, while ending with the mocking phrase "Cedar Song". Originating in the time of Herzl, the cedar tree is the tallest tree, and its wood adorns the Temple of Solomon, calling it the largest current in Jordan, and the season summer promised by Erez Israel (ErezIsrael). Now – "here" refers to – Jordan has been replaced by bugs, eternal winters have replaced summers, songs dream like fathers "sobbing under hooves", and Zionist ideals have proven obsolete.
While on vacation in his hometown, Paul learned of his mother's death; and the road construction work was completely unbearable in winter conditions. Not accidentally, the poet continues his poetic reflection, feeling intensely a sense of survivor guilt, a sense of existential guilt that cannot be reconciled and eliminated rationally: a new psychiatry of prisoners in concentration camps, who can escape the fate of extermination, based on the so-called 'guilt of survival' (survivor guilt), will find suffering from severe depression: the survivor himself is constantly tormented by a murdered betrayal for many years, thinking that he is powerless in the face of the death of his compatriots, and he himself is fortunate to escape.
In the poem below, the date That Ruth indicates above, Winter, 1942/43; she did later, the news of celan's mother's death after being shot in the neck was not reached celerant's ears until early 1943 through a distant relative who had fled from Bug.
It's snowing now, Mom
Mom, now, it's snowing in Ukraine Thousands of sad little snow particles are woven into the savior's garland. Here, my tears can't touch you. The early waving was only a proud silence...
We're dying: You haven't slept yet, barracks? This wind blows back and forth like a coward... So are they, frozen slag – the flag of the heart and the chandelier?
In the darkness I remain the same: redeem the linden tree and reveal the sharpness? My stars not only ached but also ripped off the strings of a loud harp...
Sometimes it depends on a rose moment. extinction. One. Always a... What's that, Mom: Growing up or trauma – I sank in a snowdrift in Ukraine?
It's falling now, Mother
Now, Mother, snow is falling in Ukraine: The Savior's wreath of a thousand grains of sorrow. None of my tears here reach you. From earlier waving only a proud silent...
We are already dying: what are you not sleeping, barracks? This wind also goes around like a scared away... Are they the ones who freeze in the slag - the hearts flags and the arms candlesticks?
I remained the same in the darkness: redeems the lime tree and exposes the sharp? From my stars only blow torn the strings of an overloud harp...
Sometimes there is an hour of roses hanging on it. Extinguishing. One. Always a... What was it, Mother: growth or wound - did I sink into the snowdrift of Ukraine?
There are three semantic areas here that bring the whole poem together. Here, ukraine is mentioned at the beginning and end of the poem, not imaginary, but in a very subtle and carefully chosen place: snowflakes appear throughout the poem as a code of death; there is also the appearance of slag and barracks—resistance to religious beliefs and a poetic vocabulary (implicitly preserved in them), which is also not a coincidence of imagination. Christ's crown of thorns (a variation of the word, "cross" Kreuz is interchangeable with "garland" Kranz), chandeliers with seven lamp arms, and the most poetic instrument harp, all show that their crucifixion was an incomprehensible history in the context of Jewish passions during the Babylonian exile. But the imagery of the harp, but also a point out a problem with poetry, is Adorno's maxim, about the inability to compose poetry after Auschwitz, and how pale Adorno's statement at this moment seems, and there is no position to speak of. The strings of the harp are torn off, and its sound is still very loud, inspiring the whole environment to complement the mood and sadness of the poet.
Celan's poetry is full of content of life and reading, and the content of life is determined by reading. The rose time should be the time of poetry, and the poet wrote to Ruth on August 2, 1942, what the poet put it, "the life of almost blossoming" (das aufgeblühte Leben fast): to strive for a short period of time, to restore one's inner balance, and to realize this wish, it seems that the support and help of traditional forms is needed. Here, there is an image that is inseparable, the rose here, even in the beautiful city of Jericho, is the moment of the Israelites, and the rose color is also the moment of death.
In February 1944, as the front line was slowly approaching, the concentration camp in Tabarjensit was finally abolished. For the young Paul Anzel's creation, the time spent there seems to be three times greater than the actual 20 months: later, the poet described the role of the dialogue form often taken in his poetry as the form of "Flaschenpost", "without any strong hope, even without any hope, and sending out, just hoping, when, where, it will drift to the shore" (Paul Zeeland's acceptance speech in Bremen in 1958) At the same time the poet successfully embodies the entrance to the Jewish world, especially his own reflections, in poetic terms; finally, with reference to those "dictatorial fantasies" (Hugo Friedrich), Celan, as a holocaust survivor, in which the survivors' complex psychological world of guilt and guilt can now only be felt as a sign of death.
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