Schiller: On plain poetry and sentimental poetry

Friedrich Schiller , November 10 , 1759 – May 9 , 1805 , was a German poet and playwright of the 18th century.

On plain poetry and sentimental poetry

Wen | Schiller

Translated | Jiang Kongyang School | Wu Lifu

As I said earlier, the poet is either nature or seeks nature. In the former case, he is a simple poet, in the latter case he is a sentimental poet.

The spirit of poetry is immortal, and it does not disappear from human nature. Unless human nature itself disappears, or man's ability as a human being disappears, the spirit of poetry disappears. In fact, though man has left simplicity, from truth, from the necessity of nature because of the freedom of imagination and understanding, not only is there a path that is always open to bring him back to nature, but there is a powerful and indestructible instinct, a moral instinct, which constantly pulls him back to nature; it is precisely the power of poetry which is combined with this instinct in the most intimate relationship. Therefore, once man bids farewell to nature, he does not lose the ability to poetry, but only this ability to move in another direction.

Even now, nature remains the only flame that burns and warms the soul of the poet. It is only from nature that it derives its full power; and it is only from nature that it makes its voice heard among those who artificially pursue culture. Any other form of activity expressing poetry is far removed from the spirit of poetry.

As long as man is still in a state of pure nature (I mean pure nature, not created nature), his whole human being is active, like a simple perceptual unity, like a harmonious whole. Both sensibility and reason, the ability to feel and the spontaneous capacity to take the initiative, have not yet been separated from their respective functions, let alone contradicted each other. At this time, man's feelings are not the amorphous game of chance, and man's mind is not an empty game of imagination, meaningless. His feelings begin with the laws of necessity, and his thoughts from reality. But when man has entered a state of civilization, man has cultivated him, this perceived harmony existing within him is gone, and henceforth he can only manifest himself as a moral unity, that is, a yearning for unity. The harmony that actually existed in the previous state, the harmony of thought and feeling, can now exist only in one ideal state. It is no longer within him, but outside him; it exists only as a concept of thought, and he must begin to realize it in himself; it is no longer a fact, it is no longer a reality in his life. Now, let us turn to the idea of poetry, which is nothing more than the perfect expression of human nature as possible. Applying this conception to the two states mentioned above, we are led to the inference that, on the one hand, in the pristine state of nature, since the total faculties of man act as a harmonious unity, as a result, the whole nature of man is manifested in reality itself, and the task of the poet must be to imitate reality as perfectly as possible. In the state of civilization, on the other hand, since the harmonious competition of human nature is nothing more than an idea, the task of the poet must be to raise reality to an ideal, or to express an ideal. In fact, the genius of poetry can manifest itself only through these two paths. The great difference between them is very obvious, but it is not surprising that, even if they are extremely opposite, there is a higher concept that encompasses both of them, and it is not surprising if this idea is consistent with the idea of human nature.

...... If we compare only the modern poets and the ancient poets, not according to the contingent forms they may take, but according to their spirit, we will be able to believe in the truth contained in this idea. What ancient poets touched us was nature, the reality of feelings, and the living current reality, but modern poets moved us through the medium of ideas.

Because the simple poet is satisfied with simple nature and sensation, satisfied with imitating the real world, he can only have a single relationship as far as his subject matter is concerned; he has no choice in the way he deals with the subject. If plain poetry produces different impressions,—— I am speaking, of course, not of the impressions which are related to the nature of the subject, but only those which depend on the poetic technique—and the whole difference between these different impressions is only in terms of degree. Here, there is only a way of feeling, and the difference lies only in the change from more to less sensations, and even the variety of external forms does not change the essence of aesthetic impressions. Whether the form is lyrical or epic, dramatic or descriptive, the impression we get can be stronger or weaker, but if we leave aside the nature of the subject, our feelings will always be the same. The feelings we experience are absolutely identical: they proceed entirely from a single and identical factor that it is difficult for us to distinguish them. Even the differences in languages and the differences in the times will not produce any disagreement here, because one of the characteristics of plain poetry lies in the strict consistency of its origin and effect.

Sentimental poetry is completely different. The sentimental poet meditates on the impression that objective things produce on him; only on the basis of this contemplation does the power of his poetry be laid down. The result is that the sentimental poet is often concerned with two opposing forces, two ways of expressing objective things and feeling them; that is, the actual or the finite, and the ideal or the infinite; and the mixed feelings he evokes will often prove the duality of this source. Thus, sentimental poetry, by allowing more than one principle, requires both knowing who will dominate the poet and who will prevail in his feelings and in the objective things he represents. In this way, it is possible to take a different approach. Thus, a new question was raised: Did the poet attach himself to reality? Or is it beautiful to the ideal? Is it to attach reality to the object of disgust and disgust? Or do you attach your ideals to the object of your yearning? Thus, in dealing with the same subject, each poet is either sarcastic or sad—this is only a general term, which will be discussed in detail later. In both ways of feeling, each sentimental poet is bound to be attached to one or the other.

Nature gives the simple poet a favor, who often acts in an inseparable unity, at all times the same, perfect, and reproduces the highest value of human nature in the real world. On the contrary, what nature gives to the sentimental poet is a powerful ability, or rather nature imprints on him a warm feeling: this is the first unity that is to replace the abstraction that destroys him, to complete humanity in him, to go from a finite state to an infinite state. Both the simple poet and the sentimental poet try to fully express human nature, otherwise they are not poets; but the simple poet often has the superiority of the truth of the feeling compared to the sentimental poet, thus taking as a reality what the sentimental poet can only aspire to. This is something that everyone experiences when they are happy reading plain poems. Here we feel that all human faculties are engaged in activity, without feeling empty; we have a sense of unity, without distinction between what we experience; we enjoy both our spiritual movements and the richness of our sensual life. The sentimental poet arouses a very different mood. Here we simply feel a lively yearning to produce in us a harmony between all consciousness and reality in a simple situation, to make ourselves a single and identical whole; to realize in ourselves the whole of human nature. Here, therefore, the spirit is entirely in motion, in tension, wandering in opposite feelings; until then it is quiet and calm, self-harmonious, fully satisfied.

However, if the simple poet is superior to the sentimental poet in terms of reality, if the things that make the sentimental poet only arouse strong impulses to it are living in reality, then, as a remedy, the sentimental poet has a great advantage over the simple poet. He is in a position where he can initiate this impulse to provide a greater purpose than his opponent can provide, and it is the only purpose he can provide. We all know that all reality is lower than ideal, that all things that exist have limitations, and that thought is infinite. Everything in the reality of sensation is subject to this limitation, and therefore it is a disadvantage to the simple poet. As for the absolute, unconditional freedom of the ideal, it is advantageous for the sentimental poet. There is no doubt that the former accomplishes his purpose, but this purpose is limited, and the latter, I admit, does not fully accomplish his purpose, but his purpose is infinite. Here, I would like to appeal to experience. The simple poet places us in a state of mind from where we happily move towards real life and real things. But, on the other hand, sentimental poets, with a few moments, often make us hate real life. This is because the nature of infinity extends our mind to a certain extent beyond its natural limits, so that it cannot find anything in the sensory world that can fully exert its power. We would rather return to meditation on ourselves, where we find nourishment for this awakened impulse to yearn for the ideal world. As for the simple poet, we have to try to reveal it from ourselves, to find the objective things of the senses. Sentimental poetry is the reclusive and idyllic descendant and leads to this aspect; the simple poetry is excited by the sight of life, which brings us back to life.

| selected from the Selected Essays on Western Literature