Poetry Meme: Brush up your Heine

When you see this, post a poem on your journal.

rozk's fabulous Heine translations recently have reminded me again how much I like him. Checking, I found there is even an English translation of the brilliant satiric epic Deutschland. Ein Wintermärchen online, but before I get to that one, and to explaining why you all should read Heinrich Heine, here's one of my favourite poem's of his, Gedächtnisfeier. I couldn't find an English version for this one - rozk?!???? - but here it is for the German speaking readers in the original version. He wrote it during those long last years in Paris when he was dying by inches, and it's all the more impressive for being utterly unsentimental, affectionate and witty (fitting the poet whose last words were "God will forgive me; it is his job"):

Gedächtnisfeier

Keine Messe wird man singen,
Keinen Kadosch wird man sagen,
Nichts gesagt und nichts gesungen
Wird an meinen Sterbetagen.

Doch vielleicht an solchem Tage,
Wenn das Wetter schön und milde,
Geht spazieren auf Montmartre
Mit Paulinen Frau Mathilde.

Mit dem Kranz von Immortellen
Kommt sie, mir das Grab zu schmücken,
Und sie seufzet: »Pauvre homme!«
Feuchte Wehmut in den Blicken.

Leider wohn ich viel zu hoch,
Und ich habe meiner Süßen
Keinen Stuhl hier anzubieten;
Ach! sie schwankt mit müden Füßen.

Süßes, dickes Kind, du darfst
Nicht zu Fuß nach Hause gehen;
An dem Barrieregitter
Siehst du die Fiaker stehen.


There is a French version by Joseph Massad, for shezan and others:

( Fête commemorative )

Now, about the one text by Heine everyon really should read, Deutschland. Ein Wintermärchen, or Germany. A Winter's Tale (translated by the redoubtable Joseph Massaad as well). Which has its own wikipedia entry and, like Byron's Vision of Judgment, is one of those few political satires that remain relevant outside their immediate contemporary context and are still funny (with the laughter occasionally stuck in your throat because you know what came later) today. Current day actors love to recite from it, because you'll get your audience response even if the audience in question has never read any Heine before (except for the ever present Loreley). The English translation doesn't quite have the same linguistic elegance as the German orginal, but it captures the irony pretty wel. This particular epic owes its existence to Heine, after thirteen years in French exile, visiting Germany again for some weeks to catch up with friends, publisher and relations. Germany: A Winter's Tale has him visit the same places he actually did in reverse order, and uses the opportunity to satirize fervent 19th century nationalism, Germans, French, glorification of the past, all kinds of ideologies and also his own occasional wishywashiness (Heine was one of the few people who managed to be chummy with Karl Marx and the Rothschilds at the same time).

His own political credo comes right at the start:

( English version )

( German Original )

One of the big issues of Heine's day was how and whether to achieve unification of the various German principalities. Basically, he was for it, but not, as it began to look like more and more, under a Prussian supremacy. So this is Heine poking fun at earnest unification efforts:

( English Version )

( German Original )

The first town described after crossing the French/German order is Aachen, aka Aix-La-Chapelle. My paternal grandmother and her sister hailed from there, and never ever forgave Heine for the following comment about their hometown:

The Aachen’s street-dogs are so bored,
That, with servility, they’re imploring:
Give us a kick, stranger and perhaps,
Life will not be so boring.

(Zu Aachen langweilen sich auf der Straß'
Die Hunde, sie flehn untertänig:
»Gib uns einen Fußtritt, o Fremdling, das wird
Vielleicht uns zerstreuen ein wenig.«)

As a Franconian, I, err, cannot possibly comment on the veracity of this characterisation. :) Anyway. Our poet goes on to have a chat with the Rhine. Being born in Düsseldorf, Heine actually was a Rhinelander, and, very unfashionable in the later 19th century, a Bonapartist to boot. (Partly because he directly benefited from the introduction of the Code Napoleon in Düsseldorf as a boy; it meant that as a Jew, he could get the same education as the Christians did, which hadn't been possible before. Post-Napoleon, a lot of the old restrictions came back.) Now, in the years before Heine wrote his satiric verse epic, a lot of nationalistic poetry on both sides of the Rhine had claimed the Rhine as both the most French and the most German of rivers. He couldn't let such an opportunity go, and aimed for Germans and French both:

( The French have grown bourgois, you say? )

( Sie werden Philister ganz wie wir? )

Okay, that's all very well, you say, so he could dish out in all directions, but how was he at taking criticism? Generally speaking, not that stellar. (Not many writers are.) One of Heine's more famous literary feuds, with Platen, offered the sad spectacle of two members of minorities beating each other up (in writing) by making tasteless jokes - Platen basically yelled "Jew!" at Heine, Heine yelled back "Faggot!" at Platen. HOWEVER, in Germany: A Winter's Tale, he's taking potshots at himself, too, specifically at the fact that for being the most famous German poet in political exile, he was pretty comfortable hanging out with the rich and influential. So the epic includes a scene where he's stopped by wolves in the Teutoburg Forest, and has to make a speech justifying himself:

( So is he howling with the wolves? )

( Ja zählt auf mich und helft euch selbst... )

In conclusion: read Heine. And if, like me, you visit Paris, stop by his grave at Montmartre.