T

ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER

(1779-1850)

BY WILLIAM MORTON PAYNE

HE greatest of Danish poets was born in Copenhagen, November 14th, 1779, just a quarter of a century after the death

of Holberg. His ancestry was more German than Danish, and his descent from four generations of organists may fairly be reckoned as having some influence in the determination of his artistic bent. His youth was careless and singularly happy; he applied himself indifferently to his studies, read a good many books, and wrote boyish verses, tales, and dramatic sketches. His interest in the drama even impelled him to study for the actor's profession, and during a year or two he played minor parts on the stage of the Royal Theatre. His youthful literary efforts were of insignificant value, and there was little that was stimulating in the literary surroundings of his early years. Holberg had left nothing that could be called a school, and the classical tradition that he had maintained was carried on feebly enough by a few third-rate poets. This tradition received its death-blow at the hands of Wessel, the one poet contemporary with Ewald who was a real literary force, and whose satirical play Kjærlighed uden Strömper (Love without Stockings) had killed classical tragedy in Denmark as effectively as 'Don Quijote killed chivalrous romance in Spain. The exquisite talent of Ewald had blossomed and passed away, its seed to all seeming having fallen upon stony ground. Jens Baggesen, a graceful poet and a master of both pathos and humor, a typical transition figure, striving to escape from a past which he felt to be outworn, but lacking the discernment of the pioneer, was the most conspicuous writer of the closing years of the century; but it was quite evident that no word of his was to be the "open sesame" of the new treasure-house of the spirit.

OEHLENSCHLÄGER

That word was soon to be spoken by the young Oehlenschläger, who had tired of the play-actor's calling, and entered the University

as a law student. But he found jurisprudence less tempting than the opportunity — offered soon after his entrance-of competing for a prize by writing an essay on the subject of the desirability of substituting the Norse for the Greek mythology in Scandinavian literature. It is hardly necessary to say which side of the argument he took; and although his essay failed to win the prize, it shows us to what extent the ideals that were to control his future creative activity were already shaping themselves in his mind. Meanwhile, the events were hastening that were to give his genius the needed impulse, and help him to the discovery of his true self. After eighty years of peace his country got a taste of warfare in the first year of the present century. The French revolutionary movement and the Napoleonic wars suddenly drew Denmark within their vortex, and a wave of passionate patriotism swept over the land when an English fleet under Nelson attacked the Danes in the harbor of Copenhagen. This event and its attendant surge of national feeling stimulated the young law student to renewed poetical exertions; and although his work was still amateurish and tentative, it struck a new note and gave evidence of a new energy. But the influence that was to operate most powerfully in shaping his poetical destiny was intellectual rather than political. It was the great revolution in taste and sentiment that had been creating a new literature in Germany, and that is called, somewhat vaguely, the Romantic Movement.

Oehlenschläger's mental condition at this time was like that of a bud ready to burst open with the first hour of sunlight; almost that of a powder magazine needing but a spark for the liberation of its imprisoned force. The sunlight hour or the spark-to leave the reader his choice of metaphors-was provided by a young Norwegian, Henrik Steffens by name, who came to Copenhagen in the summer of 1802, after having spent four years in Germany in the Jena-Weimar circle of Schelling, Fichte, A. W. Schlegel, Schiller, and Goethe. During the first year of his stay in Denmark, Steffens gave courses of lectures in which philosophy and literature and art received fresh and suggestive discussion, just as they were receiving similar discussion by Coleridge in England at almost exactly the same time. Oehlenschläger was introduced to Steffens soon after the arrival of the latter, and lost no time in improving the acquaintance. His first call upon his new friend was at eleven o'clock one morning, and the conversation that began between them was kept up for sixteen hours without a break. At three the next morning, Steffens offered his guest a bed, and the young poet snatched a few hours of restless sleep. Returning to his lodgings, he took pen and ink, and straightway composed 'Guldhornene' (The Golden Horns); with which work, says the historian Hansen, "the romantic period of

Danish literature begins."

The horns in question were two relics of antiquity that had been unearthed not long before and placed on exhibition. Their history "becomes a symbol for the newly awakened poet: the golden horns, with their strange carvings and mysterious runic inscriptions, are gifts of the gods bestowed upon men to remind them of their divine origin; of the ties, half forgotten, that bind them to the distant past." Once started upon his new career, Oehlenschläger went forward with all the impetuosity of youth. Abandoning the works upon which he had been engaged, and which were almost ready for the press, he so gave himself up to the new impulse that by Christmas of this memorable year a fresh volume of 'Poems' was ready for publication. These 'Poems,' bearing the date of the next year (1803), included lyrics, ballads, and a dramatic piece, and proved nothing less than a revelation of the hitherto unknown possibilities of Danish song. Nothing like them had ever before been written in the language, and nothing save the lyrical impulse of Ewald had even remotely foreshadowed such a production. In the words of P. L. Möller, the book became "the corner-stone of nineteenthcentury Danish poetry. No other Danish book has so wonderful a fragrance of culture-history, breathes forth such a wealth of glowing memories, of fiery ardor, of the joy of life, and of impossible hopes for the future.»

The years immediately following were the richest of Oehlenschläger's life. He produced in rapid succession Förste Sang af Edda' (First Song of the Edda); the prose 'Vaulundurs Saga'; the cycle of lyrical impressions de voyage called 'Langelands-Rejsen' (A Journey to Langeland); the awkwardly named 'Jesu Christi Gjentagne Liv i den Aarlige Natur' (The Life of Christ Annually Repeated in Nature), which was a series of poems with the pantheistic inspiration of Novalis and Schelling; and most important of all, the dramatic fairy tale 'Aladdin,' wherein the rich free fantasy of the poet's youthful imagination found its most complete and adequate expression. This poem, based upon the familiar Eastern tale, became deeply significant for Danish culture. It is the gospel of genius, the glorification of the magic power that commands the deepest secrets of existence, the song of the joy of life and the new birth of the spirit after an age of prosaic and uninspired "enlightenment." The works above men

tioned, together with a few others,- all the product of a little over two years of activity,- were collected into the two volumes of 'Poetiske Skrifter (Poetical Writings), published in 1805, just before the author left Denmark for Germany. The poet Hauch, writing of these volumes, spoke as follows: "Nearly everything I had previously read of poetry seemed to give me only momentary glimpses of the temple of the gods, as in the distance it now and then revealed itself to my

vision; but Oehlenschläger, next to Shakespeare, was the one who threw the temple wide open for me, so that the fullness of its divine splendor streamed upon me."

Oehlenschläger's foreign journey, begun in 1805, extended over four years. For a time he lived in Halle with Steffens and Schleiermacher, and then visited other German cities. In Berlin he made the acquaintance of Fichte, and in Weimar read a German translation of his 'Aladdin' to Goethe. A long stay in Paris followed; then a winter in Coppet, as the guest of Madame de Staël; finally a spring and summer in Rome, where he contracted a warm friendship for Thorvaldsen. Six important poetical works resulted from these four years of rich experience and broadening ideals. 'Hakon Jarl' (Earl Hakon), Baldur hin Gode' (Balder the Good), and Thors Rejse til Jöthunhejm' (Thor's Journey to Jötunheim), were written in Germany, 'Palnatoke' and 'Axel og Valborg' in Paris, and Correggio' in Rome. As these are the greatest of Oehlenschläger's works, they call for more than a mere designation. It had long been an article of his literary creed, that the most important work to be done for Danish poetry was that of giving a new life to the literature of Edda and Saga, and that he was himself the man best fitted for the task. Hakon Jarl,' a tragedy in five acts and in blank iambic verse, was the first result of this impulse. It deals with the deeply interesting period of the introduction of Christianity into Norway. was come," we read in the 'Heimskringla,' "when foredoomed was blood-offering and the men of blood-offerings, and the holy faith come in their stead, and the true worship." The day was near the close of the tenth century, when Olaf Trygvesön fared from Dublin to Norway, and overthrew Earl Hakon, the great heathen chieftain. Oehlenschläger's treatment of this splendid theme is well-balanced and impressive. He makes us feel the tremendous significance of the struggle, and views the issue with the impartial eye of the artist. 'Palnatoke deals with the same period, taking us to Denmark soon after the forced introduction of Christianity under Harald Blaatand. The tragedy is a worthy counterpart to Hakon Jarl,' and is distinguished by a similar strength, directness, and fine dramatic workmanship. It is a curious fact that the interest of 'Palnatoke' is created and sustained without the introduction of a single female character, and with hardly an allusion to the part played by woman in human life. 'Axel og Valborg' atones for this deficiency — if such it be in the fullest measure; for it is a love tragedy in a sense almost as exclusive as 'Romeo and Juliet,' and is steeped from beginning to end in the purest romantic sentiment. It is difficult to speak in measured terms of this beautiful work; the other tragedies of Oehlenschläger compel admiration in various degrees and forms,

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but this commands affection rather than admiration, and has a place all by itself in the heart. This sweet and tender story of the two cousins, forbidden to marry by the canon law, but at last united in death, is dramatized with such simplicity, pathos, and depth of poetic feeling, that the effect upon either spectator or reader is simply overwhelming. It occupies the highest place in Danish literature, and is equaled by but few tragedies in any other modern literature. 'Baldur hin Gode,' written under the influence of Sophocles, as expounded by Schleiermacher, is a tragedy in the older poetic form of iambic hexameter, and seeks to deal with the fascinating myth of Balder's death after the manner of the Greeks. 'Thors Rejse til Jöthunhejm' is an epic in five songs, and is interesting as furnishing the prologue to 'Nordens Guder' (The Gods of the North), the poet's greatest work in the non-dramatic field, produced many years later. 'Correggio,' the chief result of his Italian sojourn, was first written in German, of which language Oehlenschläger thought himself a master, which he distinctly was not. The character of the painter in this play is conceived rather passively than actively, and the balance inclines too far toward the side of pure emotion to make the work as effective as it might otherwise have been.

Oehlenschläger had left Denmark in the flush of youthful success; when he returned in 1809, he was acclaimed with but few dissenting voices as the greatest of Danish poets, and all sorts of honors were heaped upon him. The following year he married, and was made professor of æsthetics in the University. "Comedies and novels end with the wedding of the hero," he says in his autobiography; "for only the struggle, not the acquired position, lends itself to their treatment." Although an account of Oehlenschläger's career may hardly end with his marriage and settlement in life, it must be said that the remaining forty years of his existence, although they added many volumes to the series of his writings, brought but little increase to his fame. In a certain sense indeed they diminished that fame; for when the first outburst of enthusiasm had died away the voice of the detractor began to be heard, and for many years the poet was compelled to defend himself in a critical warfare that enlisted among his opponents some of the strongest and acutest minds among his contemporaries. Grundtvig, Baggesen, and Heiberg were the leaders in this onslaught. Grundtvig, the strongest of the three, claimed that Oehlenschläger was lacking in the historical sense, and charged him with a lack of religious seriousness. Baggesen's attack was chiefly concerned with minute questions of philology and æsthetics. It was reserved for Heiberg, a calmer writer, to review Oehlenschläger's work in the spirit of an enlightened and impersonal æsthetic criticism, and to pass upon it the judgment that has been substantially accepted by posterity.