Manual Engländer durch Europa (German Edition)

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I hear with pleasure that our sun is moving rapidly in the direction of the constellation Hercules : and I hope that men on the planet will do like the sun.


And we at their head, we good Europeans! There was a time when it was customary to call the Germans "profound" by way of distinction: now, when the most successful type of the new Germanness thirsts for quite different honors and perhaps wishes that anything profound were more "dashing," it is almost fashionable and patriotic to doubt whether we were deluding ourselves about our earlier reputation: to wonder, in short, whether German profundity is not basically something else, something worse — and something from which, thank God, we are on the verge of successfully getting rid of.

Let us try, then, to relearn about German depth: all is needed is a little vivisection of the German soul. A German who would have the audacity to assert, "Two souls, alas, within my bosom dwell" would be grossly violating the truth, or, more correctly, would be falling short of the truth by many souls. As a people made up of the most tremendous mixing and mingling of races, perhaps even with a preponderance of the pre-Aryan element, as the "people of the middle" in every sense, the Germans are more incomprehensible, more vast, more contradictory, more unknown, more incalculable, more surprising, and even more frightening to themselves than other peoples are: — they elude definition , and for that reason alone they are the desperation of the French.

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It is characteristic of the Germans that with them the question: "What is German? Kotzebue certainly knew his Germans well enough: "We have been acknowledged," they cried jubilantly to him, — but Sand too thought he knew them. Jean Paul knew what he was doing when he declared himself incensed by Fichte's false but patriotic flatteries and exaggerations, — but it is probable that Goethe thought differently of the Germans than Jean Paul did, even though he agreed with him about Fichte.

What did Goethe really think about the Germans? It is certain that it was not the "Wars of Liberation" , any more than the French Revolution , that made him look up more joyfully, — the event that made him rethink his Faust, indeed the whole problem of "man," was the appearance of Napoleon. The German soul has within itself [a maze of] passageways and interconnecting paths; there are caverns in it, hiding-places, and dungeons; its disorder has much of the charm of mystery; the German understands the secret paths to chaos. And like each thing loves its likeness, so the German loves what is clouded and everything that is unclear, evolving, crepuscular, damp and shrouded: he feels as "deep" whatever is uncertain, unformed, shifting, and growing.

The German himself is not, he is a becoming , he is "developing" himself. Foreigners are astonished and transfixed by the riddles which the conflicting nature at the bottom of the German soul present to them riddles which Hegel reduced to a System , and Richard Wagner has in the end set to music.

Paul Merton in Europa (Teil3) - Irland [German]

The clumsiness of the German scholar and his social tastelessness gets on frightfully well with his inner rope-dancing and nimble boldness, of which all the Gods have learnt to fear. See how the noblest and the commonest stand here side by side! How disorderly and how rich is the whole constitution of this soul! The German drags his soul along, he drags along everything he experiences. He digests his experiences badly; he is never finished and "done" with them; German profundity is often only a difficult, sluggish "digestion.

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The German lets himself go [likes to relax] , and as he does so he gazes out with true blue empty German eyes — and foreigners immediately confuse him with his leisure wear [external appearance]! It is clever for a people to be taken for, to allow itself to be taken for profound, clumsy, good-natured, honest, and foolish: it might even be — profound to do so!

The "good old" time is past, it sang itself out in Mozart — how fortunate are we that his rococo still speaks to us, that his "good company," his tender enthusiasm, his child-like delight in chinoiserie and ornament, his politeness of the heart, his longing for the graceful, the enamored, the dancing, the tearful, his faith in the south may still appeal to something left in us! Ah, some time or other it will be over with it! Beethoven is the intermediate event between an old mellow soul that is constantly crumbling, and an overly-young future soul that is constantly approaching ; upon his music lies that twilight of eternal loss and eternally dissipating hope, — the same light in which Europe lay bathed when it dreamed with Rousseau , when it danced around the Revolution's Tree of Liberty and finally almost worshipped before Napoleon.

But how quickly this feeling is now fading away, how hard it is today even to know about this feeling, — how alien to our ears sounds the language of Rousseau, Schiller , Shelley , Byron , in whom together the same destiny of Europe found its way into words, that in Beethoven knew how to sing!

Or Marschner's "Hans Heiling" and "Vampyre"! This music has died away, even if it has not yet been forgotten. Furthermore, all this Romantic music was not noble enough, not musical enough to maintain its legitimacy anywhere but in the theater and before the crowd; it was second-rate music from the start, to which true musicians paid little attention.

It was different with Felix Mendelssohn , that halcyon master who, on account of his lighter, purer, more cheerful soul, was quickly celebrated, and just as quickly forgotten: as a beautiful intermission in German music. But as for Schumann , who took things seriously and was also taken seriously from the start — he is the last composer who has founded a school —: do we not now consider it as a stroke of good luck, a relief, a liberation, that this particular Schumannesque Romanticism has been overcome? Schumann, fleeing into the "Saxon Switzerland" of his soul, his nature half Werther-like , half Jean-Paul-like, certainly not like Beethoven!

What a torture are the books written in German for anyone who has a third ear! How reluctantly he stands facing the slowly revolving swamp of sounds without resonance, of rhythms without dance, which among German is known as a "book"! Not to mention the German who reads books! How lazily, how reluctantly, how badly he reads! How many Germans know and expect of themselves to know, that there is art in every good sentence, — art that must be grasped if the sentence is to be understood! A misunderstanding of its tempo [ cadence ] , for example: and the sentence itself is misunderstood!

Let no one be in doubt about how crucial syllables are to the rhythm, that one must feel the break in the all-too-rigid symmetry as intentional and as charming, that one should lend a refined and patient ear to every staccato , every rubato , that one should divine the meaning in the sequence of vowels and diphthongs, and how delicately and richly they can acquire and change color through their juxtaposition: who among book-reading Germans has sufficient goodwill to recognize such demands and duties and to listen to so much art and intention in language?

How little the German style has to do with sound and with hearing is shown by the fact that even our good musicians write badly. The German does not read aloud, not for the ears, but only with his eyes: he has put his ears away in the drawer beforehand. When the ancients read something — which happened rarely enough — they would read it aloud, and indeed in a loud voice; they were surprised if someone read quietly, and wondered secretly why he did so.

In a loud voice: that is to say, with all the crescendos, inflections, variations of tone and changes of cadence in which the ancient public took pleasure. Paperback Filter Applied. Author see all. Mark Twain Filter Applied. Language see all. German Filter Applied. Publication Year see all. Condition see all. Please provide a valid price range. Buying format see all. All listings. Best Offer. Buy it now. Classified Ads. Item location see all. UK Only. European Union. Delivery options see all. Sprichwort 2. Du, du liegst mir am Anfang eines Liedes 3.

Furchte den Bock von vorn, das Pferd von hinten und den Sprichwort 4. Liebe deinen Shakespeare 7.

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Mach dir doch dariiber keine! Practise like this. You could do it as a team game. IV die Polen die 5panier V die Polin die Spanierin Kennst du einen Griechen? Nein, einen Griechen kenne ich leider nicht. A: Der Ire singt gern. You can stress your agreement: Ja, das stimmt, man sagt vom hen, Der Grieche handelt gern. Der Deutsche trinkt gern Bier. Der Hollander ist sparsam.

Der Japaner ist besonders hoflich. Der Turke ist besonders tapfer.

Der Italiener liebt die Musik. Der Chinese ist besonders fleil3ig. Der Araber ist ein guter Reiter. Der Pole tanzt gern und gut.

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Der Spanier ist stolz. Der Englander isst morgens gern gut und kraftig. Der Ungar ist sehr musikalisch.