Arthur Schnitzler: A Snap Shot.
He strikes one as a man
who needs all the force of his personality to keep his overwhelming brains quiet.
That is the dominant impression I had ↓of Arthur Schnitzler↓ after twenty minutes of the most inspiring talk I have enjoyed with any man
for months.
In a way this impression comes as a surprise. For there are in Schnitzler’s writing certain qualities of suavity which like
the outward reserve of a well mannered person, are only the outcome of good artistic
breeding, but which to superficial people belie the real temperament both of the
artist and the man. Even a sympathetic and imaginative study of Schnitzler’s works will not always correct the error, and that
is why I, as doubtless many others have done before me, came to him, expecting to
find a personality cold, polished and courteous, a man of urbane scepticism, and
gentle disillusionments, a temperamental agnostic, chastened of both anger and
enthusiasm.
Of course all these things are precisely, what Schnitzler is not. The first thing
that strikes one about him is ↓a↓ most lov↓able↓ warmth and impetuousnes↓s↓. He is both mentally and
physically a young man, despite his years. His eye is clear, his complexion rosy,
and
his grey hair and beard are shot with streaks of blond. In his mental attitude Schnitzler is equally youthful. Whatever subject
he touches, he is immediately on fire. His whole heart is in his talk, and he spends
himself in it as recklessly as a boy of eighteen.|
I found Schnitzler in his little house in the
suburbs of Vienna, in itself no mean achievement
(finding him, I mean), for Schnitzler is one of
the most sought after people in Europe and has
more or less to barricade himself against intruders. Schnitzler had broken off some dictation to come down to me, and had so to
speak to rub his eyes a little before he could launch out on the new topic. Also he
seemed at first disinclined to grant the interview.
»I never give interviews,« he said. »All I have to say on the Jewish question is in
my book ›Der Weg in’s Freie‹ I
recommend – – –«
»Herr Doctor,« I said, »I have not read Der Weg in’s
Freie once but three times and it is to discuss that book I have come to
you.« An extraordinarily sweet smile broke out over Schnitzler’s face.
»You are very flattering,« he said, and motioned me to a seat. And quite suddenly
we
were talking together.
Talking to Schnitzler is a delightful business.
The same sense of grace and form that is so perceptible in his books, is evident in
his talk and bearing, despite his vehemence and ready enthusiasm. He has among other
things a perfect genius for letting himself be interrupted. If he sees you have
something to say he waves you off so to speak for a couple of sentences, and then
gives you a fraction of a second to leap into the talk. It is like an obliging bus
driver slowing down between the official stopping places.|
As one speaks to him, ↓and↓ becomes conscious of this terrific depth and intensity of feeling of the
continous mental rush going on with↓in↓ the man↓,↓ one forms some conception of the degree of unrelenting
discipline it must cost Schnitzler to have what
he is namely one of the most polished and urbane writers in contemporary Europe. How easily that quick sensitivity, that
overready response of the heart might have swamped his judgment and dimmed his taste!
If Schnitzler had not been Schnitzler, he would one feels (not without a silent
thanksgiving to Heaven for a calamity so nearly averted↓)↓,
have made one of those prolific emotional writers, who despite the presence of real
talent never rise higher than the second rank in the artistic hierarchy. I remember thinking at the time that God had originally intended
Schnitzler for a sort of Upton Sinclair, and then at the last minute changed his
mind.
The truth is that there are two Schnitzlers.
There is the emotional Schnitzler with the irresistible creative urge in him, and
there is his mentor warder and familiar spirit, the critical Schnitzler, and it is by a collaboration of the two separate
individuals that Schnitzler’s works come into
being. This critical Schnitzler, I don’t mind
telling you, is the devil of a fellow. He is persistent, wakeful and utterly unrelenting. Even in his
own domain, having no other object for his ↓fury↓, he turns
and lacerates himself.
»When I attempt any sort of critical or reflective writing,« said Schnitzler, »I am half strangled by my own parentheses.«
In other words Schnitzler is one of those not
altogether enviable| individuals whose judgments and critical faculty never have a holiday. It is a heavy price to
pay, but in Schnitzler’s case the game is
worth the candle.
That Schnitzler should have had plenty to say
on the Jewish question, was only to be expected. He has written about it enough. »Professor Bernhardi« touches it. The immortal
ineffable »Lieutenant Gustl« is full of it. But above all »Der Weg in’s
Freie« is remarkable for its brilliant, I might almost say its brutal
treatment of this subject. In Heinrich Beermann, the Jewish litterateur Schnitzler has
drawn with such masterly dispassionate accuracy a certain type of central European Jew that I have always maintained no
study of the Jewish question could be considered complete without a perusal of this
work. Beermann is by no means
a perfect being. He is oversensitive, self analytical, and, I am very much afraid
inclined to be tactless yet ↓he is↓ a man of real ability and
many virtues. Circumstances have, I think made Beermann what he is, and though I could not get him to make
a definite pronouncement on the subject, I am inclined ↓to
believe↓ that Schnitzler thinks so too.
For I discussed Beermann with Schnitzler just
as I would discuss a living person. There was nothing incongruous about this, because
Beermann happens to be
alive. You will meet his like all over Vienna, or
for that matter with a slightly different accent, all over Germany.
↓»↓The solution of the Jewish Problem,« ↓said Schnitzler↓ »is one which each individual must find for himself.
There is no general solution. Zionism does not
seem to me to be a solution at all. It seems to me too much actuated by sudden
impulses, by resentment, by a mere desire to escape from one’s environment and
scarcely ever to spring from a well-reasoned decision. This does not prevent me from
admiring Zionism. I admire people who can reach out so high and dream so splendidly,
but they will never convince me.
I need hardly point out that the Zionist plays
actively into the hands of the anti-Semite. He confesses to a weakness in our
position which in my mind does not exist. My parents
come from Hungary, but my desire takes me back neither to Hungary nor Palestine.
I am rooted here in Vienna, my home and the home
of my youth. I have grown up identifying myself with the highly individual culture.
I
am part of it, and it is part of me. Why should I leave this country because a few
ignorant and illbred fools of anti-Semites tell me I do not belong here?
↓»↓Do I believe that there is a basic individual Jewish
character apart from certain traits which environment has forced upon it↓?↓ That is a difficult question; yet I should if anything be
inclined to a negative answer. I do not believe that the Jew is essentially spiritually different or that
there is a difference of spiritual rhythm between him and the gentile. The attitude of the world towards him has produced certain
psychological modifications. Take away this attitude, and those modifications will
↓vanish. I believe that if a child of Jewish parentage, even of↓ the humblest sort, were to be taken to another country, kept in ignorance of
its origin if that origin were also kept from its associates, that this child would
grow up absolutely unconscious of a difference between itself and its playmates,
except perhaps that it might develop and become| aware of a keener and quicker
brain.
I am however compelled to admit that
there is a sort of Freemasonary between Jews. We
unconsciously feel our way to one another more quickly than we do to gentiles. There
is a readier unspoken understanding. But how far this implies an actual being
different on our part I hesitate to say.
Why anti-Semitism has gained so much strength
recently? I think it has to do with the general state the world is in at present.
Remember that a wave of hate has swept over the peoples of the ↓earth↓, and that hate is a very real deep rooted instinct, which must have its vent
once it is aroused. Some object must be found for it, and it is therefore not
unnaturally, that it concentrates on a section of the community that enjoys a certain
traditional privilege of persecution, a section of the community↓,↓ moreover↓,↓ which for some reason or other is
weakened by an excessive objectivity and by a certain inclination to self analysis,
and is therefore perhaps a readier victim.
Do I think that the Jews are a creative people?
I must unhesitatingly answer that I do. Look at the names that we can show within
a
short space of time. In music Richard Strauss and Gustav Mahler. In painting Max Liebermann, in literature a whole host of names. More
than that I believe we are on the verge of great Jewish renaissance. What the artistic
message is that Judaism has to deliver I do not| know, but there is a promise of
something in the air. Any man with a feeling for these things must become aware of
it.
