Quem quer que de algum modo tenha se ocupado da teoria da poesia, e particularmente da tragédia, recordar-se-á de uma passagem em Aristóteles que causou muita dificuldade aos intérpretes, sem que pudessem concordar completamente sobre o seu significado. Numa caracterização mais precisa da tragédia, o grande homem parece esperar dela que, por meio da encenação de ações e acontecimentos que suscitam compaixão e medo, purifique (reinigen) o ânimo do espectador das paixões mencionadas. Acredito poder comunicar de melhor maneira meus pensamentos (...) e minha convicção sobre a passagem mencionada por meio de uma tradução dela. (shrink)

"All art should become science and all science art; poetry and philosophy should be made one." Friedrich Schlegel's words perfectly capture the project of the German Romantics, who believed that the aesthetic approaches of art and literature could reveal patterns and meaning in nature that couldn't be uncovered through rationalistic philosophy and science alone. In this wide-ranging work, Robert J. Richards shows how the Romantic conception of the world influenced (and was influenced by) both the lives of the people who (...) held it and the development of nineteenth-century science. Integrating Romantic literature, science, and philosophy with an intimate knowledge of the individuals involved—from Goethe and the brothers Schlegel to Humboldt and Friedrich and Caroline Schelling—Richards demonstrates how their tempestuous lives shaped their ideas as profoundly as their intellectual and cultural heritage. He focuses especially on how Romantic concepts of the self, as well as aesthetic and moral considerations—all tempered by personal relationships—altered scientific representations of nature. Although historians have long considered Romanticism at best a minor tributary to scientific thought, Richards moves it to the center of the main currents of nineteenth-century biology, culminating in the conception of nature that underlies Darwin's evolutionary theory. Uniting the personal and poetic aspects of philosophy and science in a way that the German Romantics themselves would have honored, The Romantic Conception of Life alters how we look at Romanticism and nineteenth-century biology. (shrink)

Newton began his optical studies believing in the modification theory, which was still universally accepted at that time, and in the perception of colour as a physiological process—a process in which the eye responds differently to the different velocities of identical globules. His discovery that white light is heterogeneous led him to switch to considering colour in purely physical terms.A century later, Goethe started out by accepting Newton's physical theory. He soon abandoned it, however, finding modification to be more (...) in keeping with his own insights. One beneficial consequence of this was that he developed an awareness of the importance of the physiological aspect of colour perception, and was therefore able to demonstrate that Newton's theory of light and colours is too simplistic; that there is more to colour than variable refrangibility. (shrink)

Fink explores how Goethe's scientific activities contributed to the growing literature in the history and philosophy of science.

The ancients, Friedrich Nietzsche notes, held Homer's objective art and Archilochus's subjective art in equally high esteem. However, if a work of art must be "objective," how are we to understand the subjective artist, who, like Archilochus, produces art from his own subjective experience? Guided by a clue from Schiller's May 18, 1796 letter to Goethe, Nietzsche employs Schopenhauer's theory of music in his consideration of the subjective artist. Turning to Paul Ricoeur's distinction between image as copy and image (...) as fiction, I argue, will assist us in understanding how Nietzsche resolves the problem of the subjective artist. (shrink)

This volume is the reprint of perhaps the best study of Goethe's philosophy. Its importance lies in its method. Instead of trying only to collect material pertaining to traditional, philosophical problems, it makes a deep-reaching attempt to grasp and to extricate the metaphysical foundations and basic themes of Goethe's Weltanschauung. There is a thoroughgoing analysis of his "morphological" method and excellent, long passages on his magnificent studies of the life and the structure of plants. The culmination of the (...) whole work is its third part: on the symbol considered what it truly is, not a merely esthetical [[sic]], but an essentially metaphysical notion. The book is not easy to read and it does presuppose a certain familiarity with Goethe's whole oeuvre. Those interested in the history of German idealism will certainly appreciate the parallels with Kant, but unfortunately Weinhandl omits the important parallels with Schelling.—M. J. V. (shrink)

Arnold wrote in an educational tradition that both lay in a main line of descent from the cultural formations he most valued and equipped him with the tools necessary to appreciate many of the elements in those traditions that are not in his native language. So when he referred, as exemplars of high culture, to Homer and Cicero, Montesquieu and Goethe, he presumed acquaintance with their works in the original languages on his own part and on that of his (...) audience. His own vernacular derived from that of Shakespeare and the Authorised Version of the Bible. (shrink)

In a late reminiscence, Goethe recalled that during his close association with the poet Friedrich Schiller, he was constantly defending “the rights of nature" against his friend's “gospel of freedom.”1 Goethe’s characterization of his own view was artfully ironic, alluding as it did to the French Revolution's proclamation of the "Rights of Man." His remark implied that values lay within nature, values that had authority comparable to those ascribed to human beings by the architects of the Revolution. During (...) the time Goethe made his defense, he also faced another revolution, in which Schiller was a partisan—that of Kant in the intellectual sphere. Both upheavals had undermined the autonomy of nature, replacing her authority with that of human will and understanding. Previous papers in this volume have recorded the shifting fortunes of nature that brought her to this stage of jeopardy. In the early classical period, nature as a unified whole had not yet arisen. Animate and inanimate objects had natures— characteristic modes of action—but there was as yet, according Slatkin, no articulate concept of nature as a whole standing over against human beings. Park has described a long period of transition, when nature became personified in the form of a didactic female, a figure imaginatively based, it would seem, upon the system of a 1 natural philosophy that stood in contrast to the revealed wisdom of God. Nature in this guise yet derived her authority and nurturing capacity from that higher, divine power. During the seventeenth century, writers like Mandeville, as Allen has shown, began to suspect that nature might be a chimera, a fictive creature that disguised humanity's own hidden desires and inclinations. These doubts grew during the next century—with the likes of Hume accelerating the skepticism— till finally, in the two revolutions that so troubled Goethe, nature was completely stripped of her authority. Goethe had become confirmed in his defense of the rights of nature during his travels to Italy during the years 1786-1788. (shrink)

In 1853, two decades after Goethe’s death, Hermann von Helmholtz, who had just become professor of anatomy at Königsberg, delivered an evaluation of the poet=s contributions to science.1 The young Helmholtz lamented Goethe=s stubborn rejection of Newton =s prism experiments. Goethe=s theory of light and color simply broke on the rocks of his poetic genius. The tragedy, though, was not repeated in biological science. In Helmholtz=s estimation, Goethe had advanced in this area two singular and “uncommonly (...) fruitful” ideas.2 The poet recognized, first, that the anatomical structures of various kinds of animals revealed a unity type underlying the superficial differences arising from variability of food, habit, and locality. His second lasting achievement was the related theory of the metamorphosis of organisms: the thesis that the various articulations within an organism developed out of a more basic kind of structure—that, for instance, the different parts of plants were metamorphosed leaves or that the various bones of the animal skull were but transformed vertebrae. These two general morphological conceptions, according to Helmholtz, grounded the biology flourishing at 1 mid-century. Goethe came to these ideas, Helmholtz shrewdly maintained, as the result of a poetically intuitive conception.3 He described, for instance, Goethe=s immediate recognition, while playfully tossing around a sheep=s skull on the Lido in Venice, that the fused bones of the battered cranium consisted of transmuted vertebrae. This experience resulted in the poet=s vertebral theory of the skull, which became a standard conception in later morphology.4 Poetic intuition thus liberated an idea initially embedded in matter and made it available to the analytic understanding of the scientist. Forty years later, in 1892, at the meeting of the Goethe Society in Weimar, Helmholtz returned to reexamine the poet=s scientific accomplishments, and, it would seem, implicitly his own; for by the end of his career, Helmholtz himself had achieved a position in German culture only a few steps below that of Goethe.5 His evaluation of Goethe=s achievements in physical science was now more complex than his earlier assessment had been. (shrink)

The present "Studienausgabe" is the fruit of over 40 years of labor on Paracelus [[sic]]. While Sudhoff's monumental edition continued by K. Goldhammer is intended to serve the specialist, Peuckert's aim is simply to make Paracelsus accessible to the philosopher and to the historian of ideas. Like Luther's, Paracelus's [[sic]] German is hardly comprehensible today; hence the editor had to "rewrite" it. The result is sound and easily understandable German. This welcome "vulgarization" should, however, have been compensated by notes: as (...) a matter of fact there are no critical or commenting notes in any of the volumes published as of now. We are promised a glossary at the end of the fifth volume, but even this will not mend the edition's essential shortcoming: a complete lack of any kind of scholarly apparatus. The first two volumes contain the major "medical" writings in chronological order. These earlier texts witness Paracelsus's emancipation from the ballast of medieval science: Galen, Avicenna, etc., and a significant turn towards a new conception of natural science in which speculation and experience are intimately interwoven. In the first volume there are several writings on Alchemy, among them the short treatise on the Three First Principles which was so heavily to influence the "pansophy" of the seventeenth century and even the great mystic of Görlitz, Jacob Boehme. The second volume contains the mature medical texts including the "Opus Paramirum," this herald of later bio-chemical thought. Obviously the real interest of the so-called medical texts lies in their speculative elements and they should be read together with the philosophical texts, making up the third volume. This third volume is rightly centered around the monumental "Philosophia Sagax," the major work of Paracelsus. This is the treatise whose influence reached far beyond the twilight of pansophy until the early and late Goethe and Romantic philosophy. Better than any other, this text demonstrates the uninterrupted continuity of German speculation throughout three centuries. If the resolution of the remaining two unpublished volumes turns out to be as fortunate as those reviewed here, these well-printed books should find their way to the shelves of any library, private or public, orientated towards the study of German philosophical thought.—M. J. V. (shrink)

Goethe said that he had a high opinion of Franz von Baader, but unfortunately he could not understand what the Bavarian thinker wrote. Despite the efforts of Franz Hoffmann in the last century and of Eugene Susini in our days, Baader remained a closed book, even though his complete works have been recently reprinted. The extraordinary interest of Baader's oeuvre lies in his complex historical position: though he belongs to the world of speculative idealism, this Catholic thinker fundamentally rejects (...) its monistic inspiration. The present author treats Baader's conception of transcendence as rooted in an existential metaphysics of the will, through a very contemporary philosophical language which does not always successfully blend with Baader's own complicated parlance.—M. J. V. (shrink)

This article describes the way in which emotion can lead to false consciousness by analysing a single incident in Goethe's novel The Sorrows of Young Werther. We trace a sequence of events which occur after the hero is humiliated in public, utilizing Helen Lewis's theory of shame dynamics. We argue that such an analysis may led towards models of causality in social science. Our interpretation of class idealization in the mass media, myths and legends, and class shaming in humour (...) suggests that social differentiation between sacred and profane persons may have an emotional basis. (shrink)

Just before Ernst Haeckel’s death in 1919, historians began piling on the faggots for a splendid auto-da-fé. Though more people prior to the Great War learned of Darwin’s theory through his efforts than through any other source, including Darwin himself, Haeckel has been accused of not preaching orthodox Darwinian doctrine. In 1916, E. S. Russell, judged Haeckel's principal theoretical work, Generelle Morphologie der Organismen, as "representative not so much of Darwinian as of pre-Darwinian thought."1 Both Stephen Jay Gould and Peter (...) Bowler endorse this evaluation, and see as an index of Haeckel’s heterodox deviation his use of the biogenetic law that ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.2 Michael Ruse, without much analysis, simply proclaims that “Haeckel and friends were not true Darwinians.”3 These historians locate the problem in Haeckel’s inclinations toward Naturphilosophie and in his adoption of the kind of Romantic attitudes characterizing the earlier biology of Goethe. These charges of heresy assume, of course, that Darwin’s own theory harbors no taint of Romanticism and that it consequently remains innocent of the doctrine of recapitulation. I think both assumptions quite. (shrink)

Though Joseph Nadler published the definitive, critical edition of Hamanns' complete works, the hermetic character of these texts warrants only too strongly a publication of at least the major texts with commentaries. The annotated edition is planned to comprise eight volumes. From the viewpoint of the history of ideas, Vol. IV is undoubtedly the most interesting, since it contains the important texts on the origin of language. These were directly provoked by Herder's famous Abhandlung über den Ursprung der Sprache; "the (...) Magician of the North" fights the spirit of the Aufklärung even when it is clothed in the more attractive, pre-romantic setting of Herder's prose. Besides a fantastic amount of notes and commentary, Miss Büchsel, the editor of Vol. IV, offers a comprehensive and penetrating introductory study. Especially important are the chapters on the "pre-history" of Hamanns' Herder-interpretation and its influence on the later development of German intellectual life from the early Goethe to the old Schelling Vol. V contains the so-called mystery-writings directly pertinent to the Christian doctrine of the revelation of the Incarnated Son of God. These texts are truly esoteric, and even the multitude of notes accompanying them cannot always fully overcome their terrible obscurity. And here arises the only objection against this edition. The notes and commentaries are a mine of detailed information, and they "unconceal" the meaning of every word. Yet perhaps their very abundance impedes their stated purpose. They do help in understanding the words, but they make sustained reading of the texts themselves impossible. The encyclopedical character of the notes is cause for both exasperation and for growth in knowledge and inspiration.—M. J. V. (shrink)

The present book is a reprint of the great Danish historian's fundamental study. Though the immense œuvre of Grönbech spreads over a wide variety of fields—mystics of India and Europe, Blake, Goethe, Dostoyevski, Jesus and the first Christian community, Greek religion and culture, and the philosophy of language—the two volumes of the culture and religion of the Germans belong to his most important achievements. The first part treats the great "ideas" of the early Germans: peace, honor, the soul, death, (...) and immortality. The second part is devoted to the institutions which have normative value in all societies and especially in archaic ones: war, the temple, the feast, the sacrifice, the play, etc. Grönbech attempts a total synthesis which goes beyond the temporal and tribal differences of this culture, which spread from Byzantium to Greenland. The whole work is organized around the Icelandic saga, perhaps the greatest gift the early Germans gave the world. At the end the assiduous reader is rewarded by a long and fascinating "excursus" on the cultic drama.—M. J. V. (shrink)

The point of departure in this work is a defense against that view which would hold Hegel to be a glorifier of the Prussian state, a reactionary, and an enemy of freedom. Hegel, as the work illustrates, recognized that the French Revolution only annihilated what was already in itself destroyed; and he saluted it with "rapture" as the coming of a "new dawn" in the preface of the Encyclopaedia. He continued to celebrate its anniversary even while at the same time (...) and with no less intensity holding before himself an awareness of the dangers and horrors which it occasioned. In fact, Ritter submits that one might well understand the idea of freedom brandished by the Revolution to be the fundamental element of Hegel’s entire philosophy. Hegel disengages the notion of freedom from all previous connections which, over the centuries, have distorted it, and recovers the classic definition of Aristotle : "free is the man who is for himself and not for another." Political order must guarantee this possibility. The problem posited by the Revolution is: how? Hegel, the supposed "reactionary," in all his writings, both public and private, was consistently opposed, and occasionally with passion, to any political restoration. Yet one should also take notice of Hegel’s extreme and profound antipathy for the associations of students and demagogical movements, which he saw had no rapport with the real political and historical events of the time. Both the romantic liberal and the romantic conservative united in "hatred against the law." They were concerned not with freedom as such, but with political activity which pretended to be in its service, spewing platitudes which would renounce all searching knowledge and make truth an affair of the heart, the soul, or enthusiasm. Hegel alone, with perhaps the exception of Goethe, perceived the profound danger of anarchy revealed in these movements, a danger menacing to all, when one elevates pure subjectivity and sentiment to the rank of norm for political structures. The Revolution was accompanied by the dissolution of all the representations, concepts, and norms of the previous world as if they had been the fabric of dreams. In the face of this event, along with that of the constant danger of anarchy, philosophy must furnish the ideas which can determine that which can be conserved and that which can no longer survive. For both the advocates of restoration and the revolutionaries the Revolution was understood to be the end of previous history, the severing of man from his past: one wanted merely to recover it, the other to bury it. This scission, together with the real power which it has exerted on man and his conscience, is the fundamental structure of the new age. The remainder of the current study pursues the development of this scission, revealing the inner contradiction of the poles when taken alone: the scission itself to be the unity of historic existence in the form of subjectivity and objectivity; and the scission to find its objective expression in modern civil society. There is an on-going enrichment in the notion of freedom until it finds its fulfillment in the modern State, which assures freedom by providing the structures through which it can exist. Most of what should be said is said, although Ritter’s presentation occasionally harbors some confusion, a common and probably inescapable fate when one cuts in on the dialectic to forage for an isolated topic. Still, the book achieves its goal with admirable success, and is certainly a valuable tract on Hegel vis-à-vis the notion of political freedom. The main work is a translation from the German original; it is followed by an address which develops the material in the Philosophy of Right, § 34-81; and the book concludes with a rather amazing fifty-page bibliography citing the influence exercised by Hegel’s political theory throughout the nineteenth century.—R. J. G. (shrink)

Goethe's 1810 Zur Farbenlehre has been the subject of an ardent critical debate from the start. For some, the book is not a scientific theory of physics at all ; for others, Goethe's theory is an alternative to Newton's within modern science. Today there are authors who consider Goethe's conception of science a scientific alternative to modern science.

An autobiographic instinct may be as old as Man Writing; but only since 1800 has Western Man placed a premium on autobiography. A bibliography of all autobiographic writing prior to that time would be a small fascicule; a bibliography since 1800 a thick tome. The ground behind this simpleminded assertion of a quantitative measure cannot be explained away by easy reference to the mass literacy of the modern world or the greater ease of publishing. It is as much a fact (...) of cultural conditions as is the significant relation of rhetoric to the intense public mindedness of classical men, the relative insignificance of tragedy in a thoroughly Christianized world view, the disappearance of epic from a nonaristocratic world, or the powerful assertion of the novel in an age of burghers. The usage of the term "autobiography" itself is suggestive, although this mode of historical explanation is always defective in the sense that such older terms as "hypomnemata," "commentarii," "vita," "confessions," or "memoirs" may well have covered the functions subsequently encapsulated in a newly fashionable term. In German the term makes its appearance shortly before 1800; the Oxford English Dictionary attributes first English usage to Southey in an article on Portuguese literature from the year 1809. Karl J. Weintraub, Thomas E. Donnelley Professor of History and dean of the Division of the Humanities at the University of Chicago, is the author of Visions of Culture and numerous articles. His introduction to a new edition of Goethe's Autobiography will prove of special interest to our readers. (shrink)

In 1935, the British scholar Eliza M. Butler published The Tyranny of Greece Over Germany, in which she explored the appeal of Greek art and poetry to modern German writers. She argued that Hellenism had exerted a baleful influence on German literature and culture, and that Germans were especially—even dangerously—susceptible to the power of ideas. In her view, the most dangerous Hellenic concept to German culture and society was the daimon, which had reached Germany via the work of Winckelmann. Butler's (...) thesis and methods may be problematic, as some reviewers of Tyranny pointed out, but her work is noteworthy as the product of a scholar who had lived in Germany and was a witness to history, familiar with German language, literature, and culture, writing on Germany during difficult times. As a British scholar who began studying German just before World War I and ended her career after World War II, Butler had an ambivalent relationship with Germany and Germans. But in addition to political factors, she was also influenced by her family, her educational and research experiences in Germany, and her preference for 18th- and 19th-century over 20th-century Germans. Moreover, her perception of Germans and Germanness was consistently posed against her perception of England and Englishness, and she defined the two cultural identities in terms of their relation to each other. Writing Tyranny as the National Socialists came to power in Germany, Butler judged Germans and their relationship to the daimon harshly. In 1956, Butler reconsidered the daimonic in a study of Byron and Goethe, and in this work it received a more sympathetic and nuanced analysis. A comparison of these two works is useful for understanding the evolution of Butler's thought in the 20-year interval between their publication. (shrink)