‘[D]ie Poetischen in der Philosophie, die Philosophischen in der Poesie’: The Critique of German Idealism in Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte

Joseph Twist

1. Introduction

Im Grunde hat er in seinem „Schlemihl“ nur sein eigenes Dichtergeschick niedergelegt: den ewigen Konflikt von Schein und Sein [...]. Dieses wunderliche Märchen, das durch seine pikante Unbestimmtheit sich überall beliebt gemacht, gehört zu jenen glücklichen Aperçus, deren Wert und Bedeutung die Poetischen in der Philosophie, die Philosophischen in der Poesie suchen.1

The above quotation from Joseph von Eichendorff’s Geschichte der poetischen Literatur

Deutschlands (1857) highlights the importance of philosophy in Peter Schlemihls

wundersame Geschichte (1814). Yet during the century and half since Eichendorff’s

comments were published scholarly research has mostly concerned itself with interpreting the

shadow and categorising the literary format of the text at the expense of analysing its

philosophical aspects; Franz Schulz points out that the shadow has been interpreted as

‘Vaterland, Heimat, Lebensstellung, Familie, Konfession, Orden, Titel, Liebesgestalt,

gesellschaftliches Talent oder Anpassung an die geltende Mode’, and that the text has been

labelled at various times as ‘ein Märchen, Kindermärchen, romantisches Märchen, eine

romantisch-allegorische Stimmungsnovelle, ein allegorisches Märchen, ein Kunstmärchen,

eine kuriose Geschichte, ein Novellen-Märchen, eine Märchen-Novelle oder eine

phantastische Novelle’.2 I will argue that by investigating the philosophical aspects of Peter

Schlemihl, fresh light can be shed on this 200-year-old text, including a further possible

interpretation of Schlemihl’s shadowlessness as the post-Kantian weakening of subjectivity.

1 Joseph von Eichendorff, Geschichte der poetischen Literatur Deutschlands, in Werke, 5 vols, ed. by Jost Perfahl (Munich: Winkler, 1970-88), III (1981), pp. 529-925 (p. 902).2 Franz Schulz, ‘Die erzählerische Funktion des Motivs vom verlorenen Schatten in Chamissos Peter Schlemihl’, German Quarterly, 45.3 (1972), 429-42 (p. 429).

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As Marko Pavlyshyn notes, the passage in which the demonic grey man appears in

disguise and discusses metaphysics at the beginning of chapter eight has ‘escaped critical

attention’.3 Here, the grey man talks to Schlemihl about metaphysics and Schlemihl goes on

to say:

Nun schien mir dieser Redekünstler mit großem Talent ein fest gefügtes Gebäude aufzuführen, das in sich selbst begründet sich emportrug, und wie durch innere Notwendigkeit bestand. Nur vermißt ich ganz in ihm, was ich eben darin hätte suchen wollen, und so ward es mir zu einem bloßen Kunstwerk, dessen zierliche Geschlossenheit und Vollendung dem Auge allein zur Ergötzung diente.4

In Pavlyshyn’s words, this description presents us with ‘an argument for the proposition that

the totality of knowledge resides in a system of rational speculation’ and, therefore, as

Pavlyshyn deduces, the Enlightenment philosophy of the time (German idealism) is a ‘thing

of the devil’ by implication.5 However, at this point I depart from Pavlyshyn, who maintains

that, although depicting the Devil as a ‘sophisticated debater’ and ‘master of abstract logic’ is

a common literary tradition, ‘[t]he reason why it should be invoked here in order to demonize

speculative rationalism is not clarified within the text, but easily enough understood in terms

of a personal antipathy on the author’s part’.6 Schlemihl does indeed address Chamisso at

this point in the novella, implying that Chamisso is partly to blame for Schlemihl’s disdain of

philosophy:

Du weißt [...], daß ich zur philosophischen Spekulation keineswegs berufen bin, und daß ich mir dieses Feld völlig abgesprochen habe; [...] und bin, wie du es mir selber geraten, meinem geraden Sinn vertrauend, der Stimme in mir, so vieles in meiner Macht gewesen, auf dem eigenen Wege gefolgt. (p. 53)

3 Marko Pavlyshyn, ‘Gold, Guilt, and Scholarship: Adelbert von Chamisso’s Peter Schlemihl’, German Quarterly, 55.1 (1982), 49-63 (p. 53).4 Adelbert von Chamisso, Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte, in Sämtliche Werke, 2 vols, ed. by Volker Hoffmann (Munich: Winkler, 1975), I, pp. 13-67 (p. 53) [All subsequent refrences will be given in the text].5 Pavlyshyn, p. 54.6 Ibid.

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Nevertheless, rather than attributing this to a purely isolated, autobiographical aspect of the

text, it could be argued that the text in its entirety deals critically with Immanuel Kant’s

legacy.

According to Frederick Beiser, towards the end of the eighteenth century the

Enlightenment entered into a crisis: ‘The more it extended its fundamental principles, the

more they seemed to lead to dire consequences [...]. While criticism seemed to end in

scepticism, naturalism appeared to result in materialism.’7 This crisis did not go unnoticed by

the Romantics; writing on the subject, Friedrich Schlegel states: ‘Der Materialismus [...] und

Skeptizismus ist dem Menschen natürlich, mußten entstehen. Der Idealismus konnte nur

geoffenbart sein.’8 It also profoundly affected Chamisso, as Jürgen Schwann and Christine

Schlitt explain in their respective studies.9 Schwann and Schlitt both maintain that

Chamisso’s Faust: Ein Versuch (1803), in which the frontiers of human consciousness are

explored, can be interpreted as a response to this crisis,10 whilst stopping short of fully

applying this insight to Peter Schlemihl – Schlitt does, nevertheless, note that a certain

scepticism is present in all Chamisso early work, including Peter Schlemihl.11 This essay

aims to build on the observations of Eichendorff, Pavlyshyn, Schwann and Schlitt in order to

provide a more comprehensive view of contemporary philosophy’s role in Peter Schlemihl,

arguing that the outcomes of scepticism and materialism are treated critically, albeit often

comically, in the text, and that both Kantian and Fichtean thought have a particularly

profound impact upon the tale.

7 Frederick Beiser, ‘The Enlightenment and idealism’, in The Cambridge Companion to German Idealism, ed. by Karl Ameriks (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 18-36 (p. 19).8 Friedrich Schlegel, Schriften und Fragmente: Ein Gesamtbild seines Geistes, ed. by Ernst Behler (Stuttgart: Alfred Kröner, 1956), p. 177.9 Jürgen Schwann, Vom “Faust” zum “Peter Schlemihl”: Kohärenz und Kontinuität im Werk Adelbert von Chamissos (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 1984), p. 76-8; and Christine Schlitt, Chamissos Frühwerk: Von den französischen Rokokodichtungen bis zum Peter Schlemihl (1793-1813) (Würzburg: Könighausen & Neumann, 2008), pp. 90-97.10 Schwann, p. 90-111; and Schlitt, p. 92.11 Schlitt, p. 225.

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2. ‘Schein und Sein’: Post-Kantian Scepticism and Materialism in Peter Schlemihl

Eichendorff recognised the interplay of ‘Schein und Sein’ as one of the major themes in Peter

Schlemihl. Translated into Kantian terms, this equates to the contrast between appearances

(phenomena) and things-in-themselves (noumena) – the central component of Kant’s

transcendental idealism. According to the Kritik der reinen Vernunft (1781) we can never

know objects as things-in-themselves, but only as they appear to us:

Findet sich nun, wenn man annimmt, unsere Erfahrungserkenntniß richte sich nach den Gegenständen als Dingen an sich selbst, daß das Unbedingte ohne Widerspruch gar nicht gedacht werden könne; dagegen, wenn man annimmt, unsere Vorstellung der Dinge, wie sie uns gegeben werden, richte sich nicht nach diesen, als Dingen an sich selbst, sondern diese Gegenstände vielmehr, als Erscheinungen, richten sich nach unserer Vorstellungsart, der Widerspruch wegfalle; und daß folglich das Unbedingte nicht an Dingen, sofern wir sie kennen, (sie uns gegeben werden,) wohl aber an ihnen, sofern wir sie nicht kennen, als Sachen an sich selbst, angetroffen werden müsse: so zeigt sich, daß, was wir Anfangs nur zum Versuche annahmen, gegründet sei.12

In Peter Schlemihl, people constantly misconstrue what is ‘real’ because their perceptions,

based on appearances, prove to be inadequate, echoing Kant’s Kritik. Hence, one could argue

that the often humorous outcomes of the characters’ limited cognitive abilities constitute a

satirical criticism of transcendental idealism, taking the concept to its extremes and exposing

the sceptical outlook it engenders.

This occurs at various points in the text. For example, after obtaining the ‘Fortunati

Glückssäckel’ in exchange for his shadow, Schlemihl attracts a great deal of attention by

distributing his inexhaustible wealth to silence those who become aware of his

shadowlessness (p. 24) and is consequently mistaken by the public for the King of Prussia. A

comedic scene unfolds, in which Schlemihl is interrupted on his way home by a royal

welcome of music, canon-fire and choruses of praise, but, as the sun would expose his

12 Immanuel Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft: Zweite Auflage 1787, in Kant’s Werke, 9 vols, ed. by the Preußische Akademie der Wissenschaften (Berlin: Georg Reimer, 1902-23), III (1904), pp. 1-594 (p. 14).

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shadowlessness, he is unable to leave his carriage (pp. 32-3). Elsewhere, Schlemihl tries in

vain to hide the loss of his shadow by having a painter reproduce the appearance of one (p.

28), suggesting the importance of appearances over reality; in the Schlemihlium, Schlemihl is

mistaken for a Jew13 by Bendel and Mina because of his long beard (p. 64); and also, in the

introductory poem, Chamisso tells of how people confuse him with Schlemihl:

Ob wir einander denn so ähnlich sind?! –Sie schrien mir nach: Schlemihl, wo ist dein Schatten? (p. 13)

It is not merely where Schlemihl himself is concerned that the difference between

appearances and the Ding an sich manifests itself: it occurs throughout the entire text. For

instance, as Benno von Wiese points out, the Devil is neither horned nor cloven-hoofed as

one would expect, but rather ‘weitgehend entdämonisiert’,14 and thus Schlemihl fails to

recognise the danger he poses. Along similar lines, the shabby appearance of the seven-

league boots causes Schlemihl to judge them as inferior to the other boots for sale (p. 59),

belying their magical power and usefulness. I would, therefore, disagree with both Colin

Butler, who maintains that a ‘residual hankering after the fantastic’ is all that prevents Peter

Schlemihl from being a totally realistic story,15 and Wiese, who contends that the day-to-day

appearance of the story’s magical objects and of the Devil prove the dominant position of

reality in the text.16 Rather, the everyday appearance of the text’s supernatural elements

serves to highlight what little grasp of reality the protagonists of Peter Schlemihl actually

have.

Furthermore, it could be argued that the first pact with the Devil is successful not only

because Schlemihl fails to recognise the demonic nature of the grey man, but equally because

13 Schlemihl is regarded as a Jew by some scholars, though I would argue that he is merely mistaken for one. See Richard Block, ‘Queering the Jew Who Would Be German: Peter Schlemihl’s Strange and Wonderful History’, Seminar 40.2 (2004), 93-110.14 Benno von Wiese, ‘Das Problem der Märchen-Novelle dargestellt an Adelbert von Chamissos Erzählung „Peter Schlemihls wunderbare Erzählung [sic]“’, Monatshefte, 48.3 (1956), 113-18 (p. 115).15 Colin Butler, ‘Hobson’s Choice: A Note on Peter Schlemihl’, Monatshefte, 69.1 (1977), 5-16 (p. 7).16 Wiese, p. 114.

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he fails to notice the shadow’s true worth, taking into account its appearance alone – shadows

are not always present. In fact, the grey man utilises both scepticism and a materialist

argument in attempts to seal his deals. Indeed, attempting to convince Schlemihl to

relinquish his soul, he makes the following case:

Und, wenn ich fragen darf, was ist denn das für ein Ding, Ihre Seele? haben Sie es je gesehen, und was denken Sie damit anzufangen, wenn Sie einst tot sind? Seien Sie doch froh, einen Liebhaber zu finden, der Ihnen bei Lebenszeit noch den Nachlaß dieses X, dieser galvanischen Kraft oder polarisierenden Wirksamkeit, und was alles das närrische Ding sein soll, mit etwas Wirklichem bezahlen will, nämlich mit Ihrem leibhaftigen Schatten [...]. (pp. 42-43)

The Devil, as a proponent of idealism, has a philosophically materialistic outlook on the soul,

or so he feigns in order to trick Schlemihl. On the one hand, the soul is outside of a priori

explanation and is thus ascribed no worth by the Devil, whose use of the word ‘Ding’ here

reminds us of the Ding an sich. On the other, the shadow is now ‘leibhaft’ by comparison,

suggesting a material property, and thus a seemingly advantageous exchange.17 As Schwann

states: ‘Aussagen über ein “Ding an Sich” wären folglich nutzlos, da mit “Wirklichem”

entgolten werden soll.’18

Since the reason behind mathematics and physics relies predominantly upon a priori

cognition, they are favoured in Kant’s Kritik:

Mathematik und Physik sind die beiden theoretischen Erkenntnisse der Vernunft, welche ihre Objecte a priori bestimmen sollen, die erstere ganz rein, die zweite wenigstens zum Theil rein, dann aber auch nach Maßgabe anderer Erkenntnißquellen als der der Vernunft.19

As Beiser states:

17 This notion of the shadow as ‘leibhaft’ is echoed in the wordplay of French introduction, when the term ‘le solide’ is used for the shadow: Eduard Hitzig and Adelbert von Chamisso, ‘Hitizigs Vorrede zur Stereotypausgabe des „Schlemihl“ (1839) und Chamissos Vorreden zu den beiden französischen Ausgaben (1821, 1838)’, in Sämtliche Werke, 2 vols, ed. by Volker Hoffmann (Munich: Winkler, 1975), I, pp. 776-80 (pp. 777-78).18 Schwann, p. 296.19 Kant, p. 9.

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[Materialism] seemed to be the inevitable result of universalizing the Enlightenment’s paradigm of explanation, of claiming that everything that exists is explicable, at least in principle, according to mechanical and mathematical laws. If something falls under mechanical and mathematical laws, then it must be quantifiable or measurable. But to be quantifiable it must be extended, having a determinate shape, size, and weight; in other words, it must be material.20

This special status awarded to a priori knowledge such as mathematics, physics and all things

quantifiable during the Enlightenment is hinted at when the Devil describes himself as ‘eine

Art von Gelehrten und Physikus’ and refers to the soul as an ‘X’, indicating that it is

impossible to measure empirically (p. 42). I therefore disagree with Schlitt, who maintains

that the Devil argues ‘vom Standpunkt eines streng empiristisch-induktiven

Wissenschaftsverständnisses, das die Natur und ihre Gesetze auf ihre Nutzbarkeit für den

Menschen hin erforscht’.21 Although his approach is utilitarian, I would argue that he is in

fact a rationalist, in that he prioritises definitions through a priori knowledge and is sceptical

of evidence based on dubious sensory experiences gained from appearances.

That Schlemihl is not convinced by this offer suggests that he is of the same opinion

as the Romantics, who were opposed to this Enlightenment paradigm which leaves no room

for imagination and religion when taken to its extremes, and the belief that science can clarify

everything is ridiculed at various points in the story through humour. For instance, although

the situation is fantastical, the explanations Schlemihl provides to account for the loss of his

shadow are matter-of-fact: it froze to the ground during a cold Russian winter (p. 28); it is

being repaired after a man trod on it, tearing a hole (p. 41); he lost it along with his hair and

nails due to a terrible illness (p. 58). What is more, magical objects are also often dealt with

in a matter-of-fact way, such as when, upon realising that he has managed to walk a great

distance across continents, Schlemihl simply declares: ‘es war kein Zweifel, ich hatte

Siebenmeilenstiefel an den Füßen’ (p. 60). Similarly, after noticing a shadow drifting by on

20 Beiser, pp. 20-21.21 Schlitt, p. 212.

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its own, he calmly remarks: ‘Nun ward mir auch das ganze Ereignis sehr natürlich erklärbar.

Der Mann mußte das unsichtbare Vogelnest, welches den, der es hält, nicht aber seinen

Schatten, unsichtbar macht, erst getragen und jetzt weggeworfen haben.’ (p. 46) These

excerpts can be seen as mocking the Enlightenment’s scientific worldview that everything is

explicable in the realms of science and mathematics, for, by allowing no place for the

supernatural in his narration, Schlemihl renders these fantastical events ordinary.

This criticism is also present in the French translation’s highly ironic introduction

(1838), in which, presumably tired of people asking for the allegorical meaning behind the

shadow, Chamisso gives a definition from a physics book.22 Here, he is sarcastically

providing the reader with a scientific explanation, rather than attributing symbolic meaning to

the shadow. However, the ultimate significance of the shadow, and indeed the soul, becomes

apparent even in opposition to infinite wealth, defying the logic of materialism. Contrary to

the Devil’s argument, the high value of the shadow and the soul are revealed: the former is

valuable because its absence acts as a barrier in social situations, so too is the latter once

Schlemihl witnesses the gruesome penalty exacted upon Herr John’s soul by the Devil.

Alongside the Devil and the soul, there are other religious elements that form part of

Chamisso’s critique of Enlightenment philosophy – Schlitt identifies this as a particular

preoccupation of Chamisso, evidenced in his enthusiastic response to the religious opinions

in Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s late work.23 As previously stated, the soul (a noumenon) turns out

to be both real and more valuable than material wealth. Pavlyshyn points out that part of

Schlemihl’s rejection of the German idealism represented by the grey man is due to its

inability to affect his soul, reminding us that had Schlemihl sold his soul to the Devil, he

would have perhaps embraced this philosophy.24 Moreover, during the Devil’s attempt to

acquire Schlemihl’s soul, just as Schlemihl is ready to sign the contract, he faints at the last

22 Hitzig and Chamisso, pp. 777-78.23 Schlitt, p. 97.24 Pavlyshyn, p. 54.

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minute and is thereby prevented from doing so. Herman J. Weigand attributes this to ‘the

intervention of divine grace’,25 and further argues that the Devil only reveals Herr John’s soul

to Schlemihl in the first place because he is commanded to in the name of God, albeit

inadvertently.26 Indeed, Schlemihl says: ‘Wo ist er? bei Gott, ich will es wissen!’ (p. 57).

Consequently, it is not only the noumenal soul and supernatural figure of the Devil who have

a significant role in Schlemihl’s life, but equally God plays his part.

The scepticism brought about by Kant’s dualism even extended to subjectivity, as the

self was henceforth divided into the empirical self (a phenomenon) and the transcendental

self (a noumenon). Jean-Luc Nancy and Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe contend that the central

task of early Romantic literature was to overcome this destabilisation of subjectivity through

poetry,27 and whereas Schlitt interprets the lost shadow in terms of ‘Schein und Sein’ with

reference to the Rousseauian difference between the true inner self (the ‘beautiful soul’) and

the false outer appearance established by possessions and profession,28 one could equally

argue that the loss of Schlemihl’s shadow at the hands of the grey man, his inability to

recognise his own outline, implies an altogether more fundamental fragmentation of identity,

namely the very impossibility of a priori self-identification.29 Thus, the problematisation of

self-definition identified by Schwann in Faust30 is arguably continued in Peter Schlemihl

through the lost shadow motif, whereby the shadow alludes to the transcendental self that is

beyond the world of experience. Schlemihl’s alienation from the world is a direct result of

his shadowlessness, providing a powerful critique of the scepticism inherent in Kant’s

philosophy.

25 Hermann J. Weigand, ‘Peter Schlemihl’, in Surveys and Soundings, ed. by A. Leslie Willson (Princeton: Princeton University Pess, 1966), pp. 208-22 (p. 216).26 Weigand, p. 218.27 Jean-Luc Nancy and Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, The Literary Absolute: The Theory of Literature in German Romanticism, trans. by Philip Barnard and Cheryl Lester (New York, State University of New York Press, 1988), pp. 30-33.28 Schlitt, pp. 210-11.29 This imagery reoccurs more literally in E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Die Abenteuer der Sylvester-Nacht (1815), a text indebted to Peter Schlemihl in which the protagonist is unable to see his reflection.30 Schwann, pp. 90-91.

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Thus, on the one hand, Peter Schlemihl provides a critique of the scepticism inherent

in Kant’s transcendental idealism through reductio ad absurdum, often providing for

humorous situations as the characters are constantly mistaken due to their inability to

perceive the reality outside of appearances, and through the solitude of his shadowlessness.

On the other, materialism is discredited by the importance of noumena that cannot be

explained by reason, such as God and the soul. Likewise, the matter-of-fact explanation of

fantastical objects and events ridicules the Enlightenment paradigm that it is only a matter of

time until science and reason can explain everything.

3. ‘Gestrebt hab ich und gehofft ins Blaue, / Und am Ende wenig nur erzielt’: Fichte’s

Wissenschaftslehre and Romantic Irony in Peter Schlemihl

Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre (1794) was a response to the dualism of Kant’s Kritik der reinen

Vernunft, trying to prevent the shift towards scepticism and materialism, but to no avail.31

Fichte uses the concept of ‘striving’ in an attempt to reconcile the distinction which he draws

between the Ich (finite ego) and the Nicht-Ich (absolute ego):

Das Resultat unserer bisherigen Untersuchungen ist demnach folgendes: die reine in sich selbst zurückgehende Thätigkeit des Ich ist in Beziehung auf ein mögliches Objekt ein Streben; und zwar [...] ein unendliches Streben. Dieses unendliche Streben ist in’s unendliche hinaus die Bedingung der Möglichkeit alles Objekts: kein Streben, kein Objekt.32

In other words: ‘If the finite ego strives to control nature, it approaches, even though it never

attains, the ideal absolute ego.’33 Thus, Fichte introduces the active role of humans within the

production of knowledge, recognising how ‘we change the world, making it into something

we can know’.34 However, as nature inevitably resists our efforts, it remains a thing-in-itself

31 Beiser, pp. 31-2.32 Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre und Grundriß des eigenthümlichen der Wissenschaftslehre in Rücksicht auf das theoretische Vermögen (Tübingen: Cotta, 1802), p. 242.33 Beiser, p. 30.34 Beiser, p. 31.

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beyond our understanding – except, of course, for the supernatural grey man who can

manipulate nature to his will, and whose demonic character can be viewed as criticising the

God-like role with which Fichte credits Man.

Whereas Kant’s dualism leads to a situation in which the subject was even unable to

fully recognise itself, Fichte, on the other hand, argues that a self-positing self is possible

through the unity of the Ich and the Nicht-Ich within the self. Yet, given my interpretation of

the shadow’s symbolism, it would seem that Chamisso did not accept Fichte’s response. The

inability of Fichte’s Strebensphilosophie to reconcile the Ich and the Nicht-Ich is significant

for our understanding of Romantic Irony. Fr. Schlegel states: ‘[Ironie] enthält und erregt ein

Gefühl von den unaufhörlichen Widerstreit des Unbedingten und des Bedingten, der

Unmöglichkeit und Notwendigkeit einer vollständigen Mitteilung’,35 which Paul Kluckhohn

clarifies as recognising one’s limitations, be they in the conflict between ‘der inneren

Empfindung und der realen Wirklichkeit’, or between the Romantics’ desired ideals and what

they knew to be achievable.36 Chamisso was in contact with Fichte and attended his

lectures,37 and this Romantic striving towards an unachievable absolute that corresponds with

the Wissenschaftslehre is to be found in Peter Schlemihl, for Schlemihl is constantly striving

towards an absolute ideal, both in Romantic and Enlightenment terms.

Schlemihl, like the protagonists of other Romantic Kunstmärchen, does not reach a

new, Romantic Golden Age, though at one point this does seem feasible. Upon first realising

the magical ability of his Siebenmeilenstiefel, Schlemihl can seemingly venture wherever he

wishes. His descriptions of ‘uralten Tannenwälder, woran die Axt nie gelegt worden zu

schein sein’ (p. 59) and of the world presented to him as a rich garden (p. 60) utilise the

Edenic vocabulary of the Romantic Golden Age, but it is not to last. Not long after putting

on the boots, Schlemihl becomes aware of their limitations as he cannot reach Australia (p.

35 Schlegel, p. 86.36 Paul Kluckhohn, Das Ideengut der deutschen Romantik (Tübingen: M. Niemeyer, 1953), p. 19.37 Schlitt, p. 95.

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61). Consequently, as Schwann argues, Schlemihl is left with an incomplete view of the

world, just as German idealism postulates that we can never know the world in its entirety as

it truly is.38 However, Schlemihl is a complex figure, also characterised by Enlightenment

ideas, despite his rejection of its underlying philosophy. Indeed, his project to document and

classify the world’s flora is unmistakably an Enlightenment endeavour,39 and can also be

related to the Fichtean demand to control nature and restore order to the world. Nevertheless,

whether seen in Romantic or Enlightenment terms, Schlemihl is doomed to remain

unfulfilled. His botanical studies also amount to nothing more than a fragment (p. 66),

reflecting that, strive as we may, the absolute shall always remain unattainable. This echoes

Fichte’s failure to overcome the distinction between phenomena and noumena in the

Wissenschaftslehre, which became central to Fr. Schlegel’s theory of ‘romantische Poesie’ in

Arthenäums-Fragment 116.40

These links to the Enlightenment strengthen Pavlyshyn’s argument that Schlemihl,

due to his rather cosy, hermit lifestyle, ‘opens himself to the derision as that whipping boy of

Romantic literature, a philistine’.41 Here, Pavlyshyn is referring to how Schlemihl obtains

slippers, tobacco and a lap-dog (pp. 62-3) for his cave in Thebes,42 all bourgeois comforts of

the philistine as described by Clemens Brentano in his scathing account Der Philister vor, in

und nach der Geschichte (1811).43 The slippers, or ‘Hemmschuhe’, are used to cancel out the

power of the seven-league-boots (p. 62) and become the symbol of Schlemihl’s Philistertum.

Thus, his footwear perfectly expresses the divide between Romanticism and the

Enlightenment: the boots have the Romantic potential to carry him across the globe to areas

38 Schwann, pp. 387-88.39 Block, p. 108.40 Schlegel, pp. 93-4.41 Pavlyshyn, p. 61.42 Schlemihl’s Greek cave alludes to Plato’s allegory of the cave, whose chained inhabitants know only shadows and not reality, serving to underpin references to appearances and unknowable things-in-themselves.43 Clemens Brentano, Der Philister vor, in und nach der Geschichte, in Werke, 4 vols, ed. by Friedhelm Kemp (Munich: Carl Hanser, 1963-68), II (1963), pp. 959-1003 (p. 987).

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of natural beauty, while the slippers bring his pace down from the realms of the magical to

the normal, philistine world, enabling him to conduct his botanical observations.

As in Peter Schlemihl, the Devil is also a promoter of Enlightenment ideas in

Brentano’s work:

Wenn er aber einstens die Fenster öffnet, diese Erde zu lüften, so werdet ihr sehen, daß es der Teufel war, der den bösen Geruch zurück ließ, und daß der Zündstrick der Aufklärung, an dem die Philister ihre Köpfe anbrennen, unmittelbar aus seinem Schwanze gesponnen ist.44

Nevertheless, the reader is not made to feel the same contempt for Schlemihl as we are for

Brentano’s philistine (although perhaps we are for Herr John) and this cannot be solely

explained by the sympathy aroused by his position as first-person narrator. Schlemihl seems

to be a different kind of philistine to Herr John and that of Brentano and, consequently, he

escapes the grey man’s control and Herr John’s fate. I would argue that it is because

Schlemihl can be seen as having loyalties not only to the Enlightenment, but also to

Romanticism that he is distinguished from other philistines. Peter A. Kroner mentions that

there are both elements of the Enlightenment and Romanticism in Chamisso’s work,45 and

this can be seen in the character Schlemihl by the tools he needs to conduct his botanical

research, insofar as they are both magical (the Siebenmeilenstiefel and what remains of the

Devil’s money) and scientific (a sextant, some physical instruments and books (p. 62)).

Furthermore, Schlemihl’s dual allegiances are expressed in the work he intends to leave

behind posthumously: not only the fruits of his botanical labours for the new university in

Berlin, but also the manuscript of his wundersame Geschichte (p. 66).

Chamisso provides us, then, with a different view of the philistine to Brentano,

depicting the protagonist as belonging to both Romanticism and the Enlightenment, echoing

the depicted reality of Chamisso’s life in Schlemihl’s first dream, in which the books on his

44 Brentano, p. 991.45 Peter A. Kroner, ‘Adelbert von Chamisso’, in Deutsche Dichter der Romantik, ed. by Benno von Wiese (Berlin: Erich Schmidt, 1983), pp. 371-90 (p. 371).

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desk are drawn from both literature (Goethe and Fouqué) and science (Haller, Humboldt and

Linné) (p. 24). We have sympathy for Schlemihl, even though he displays philistine

attributes, both because he does not fall foul of materialist reason, choosing to value his soul

and relinquish possession of the magic purse, and also because we know that the lofty goals

of the Romantic and Enlightenment Movements are ultimately unattainable, making the text

an example of Romantic Irony. It is also worth noting that Chamisso may have wanted to

distance himself from the anti-Semitic tone of Brentano’s work when putting forward his

version of the philistine. Schlemihl’s name is of Yiddish origin, and although Schlemihl is

taken for a Jew in the Schlemihlium, he makes the point that he is not treated any worse for

that (p. 64).

Thus, the striving intended to overcome the gap between the Ich and the Nicht-Ich in

Fichte’s work forms an integral part of Peter Schlemihl through Romantic Irony. Just as

Fichte ultimately fails to end the scepticism regarding subjectivity brought about by Kant,

Schlemihl is tricked out of his shadow forever by the philosopher-Devil, losing a part of

himself, and just as Fichte’s Strebensphilosophie never fully achieves its goal of controlling

nature, Schlemihl fails to reach a Romantic or Enlightenment ideal. Schlemihl’s incapability

in this respect is expressed in the text’s symbolism, as he exclaims: ‘Was hülfen Flügel dem

in eisernen Ketten fest Angeschmiedeten?’ (p. 28). As explained above, Schlemihl has a foot

in both the Romantic and Enlightenment camps and this plays a literal role in holding him

back from fulfilment in either. Schlemihl falls into the sea and catches the cold the ends his

journey because he is wearing a slipper on one foot and a seven-league boot on the other (p.

63), echoing Chamisso’s own comment from spring 1830: ‘Ich habe [...] immer einen Fuß in

der Botanik und einen in der Literatur.’46

46 Adelbert von Chamisso, ‘Briefe von Chamisso aus den Jahren 1819-1838 an de la Foye, Rosa Maria und Diotima’, in Leben und Briefe von Adelbert von Chamisso, 2 vols, ed. by Julius Eduard Hitzig (Leipzig: Weidmann, 1839), I (1839), pp. 109-80 (p. 155).

14

Although Schlemihl inevitably fails to reach an absolute, scholars have argued that

the ending is not entirely unhappy and that Schlemihl does, at least, find his place in the

world:

Der Weg führt über Peters schmerzliche Erlebnisse, die durch die Schattenlosigkeit verursacht werden, hin zu dem Ziel der Selbstbesinnung. Dabei erkennt Peter immer deutlicher, daß er seine Schattenlosigkeit [...] nicht ändern kann, daß aber dennoch ein sinnvolles, erfülltes Leben außerhalb der Gesellschaft möglich ist.47

However, given that Schlemihl remains alienated and alone, living in a world of unknowable

things-in-themselves with doubt surrounding his own subjectivity, I am more inclined to

agree with Schlitt’s interpretation, ‘daß [...] Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte

Ausdruck des untergründigen Skeptizismus und der Desillusionierung ist, die sich [...] durch

das gesamte Frühwerk Chamissos ziehen’.48 It is, perhaps, for this reason that Schlemihl’s

name translates as ‘Pechvogel’.

Fred Rush states: ‘Schlegel counts as ironic both implicit and explicit artistic

expressions of the problematic relationship of finite beings to the absolute’,49 and this

difficult journey through life in the hope of reaching the absolute is subtly alluded to at the

novella’s very beginning when, from the vantage point of Herr John’s garden, the view

afforded is that of ‘das grüne Labyrinth des Parkes’ leading out to ‘dem unermeßlichen

Ozean’ (p. 19). One could argue that through his autobiographical manuscript and botanical

research Schlemihl does gain an importance and a kind of immortality, but, nonetheless, the

overall message of the story seems to be more realistic and Romantically ironic in tone,

implying, as Chamisso does in the opening poem, that one can only do one’s best given the

circumstances of our limitations. The use of the colour blue in the opening poem, quoted

47 Schulz, p. 436.48 Schlitt, p. 225.49 Fred Rush, ‘Irony and Romantic Subjectivity’, in Philosophical Romanticism, ed. by Nikolas Kompridis (London: Routledge, 2006), pp. 173-95 (p. 180).

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below, carries Romantic connotations in relation to Novalis, and a biographical approach

could mention the possibility of Chamisso’s own personal doubts regarding his poetic skill:

Gestrebt hab ich und gehofft ins Blaue,Und am Ende wenig nur erzielt (p. 13).

4. Conclusion

At its bicentennial, Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte remains an oft interpreted and

yet elusive text. Although just one aspect of this multifaceted text, I have argued that

philosophy’s role is central to Peter Schlemihl, both in terms of German idealism’s failure to

respond to the scepticism and materialism that inevitably resulted from an ultimate preference

for information based on a priori knowledge, and also with regard to the wider Enlightenment

faith in the explanatory power of reason. The text can be viewed as a critique of the

outcomes of scepticism and materialism, since the characters’ perceptions of reality are

constantly proven false and they fail to see the true worth of objects because they base their

judgments on appearances and material properties alone. Schlemihl’s inability to reach the

absolute despite his constant striving equally constitutes a criticism of scepticism, reflecting

how German idealism fails to resolve the gap between appearances and things-in-themselves,

even in terms of the self. These arguments are exposed through ‘die Philosophischen in der

Poesie’,50 and the text can thus be viewed as putting into practice a central tenet of Fr.

Schlegel’s theory of Romantic poetry, namely that its task is ‘die Poesie mit der Philosophie

[…] in Berührung zu setzen’.51

Though Peter Schlemihl can be regarded as a Romantic text through its criticism of

the Enlightenment, its fantastical elements and its debt to Schlegelian Romantic theory, it

cannot be deemed entirely counter-Enlightenment as Schlemihl embodies both Romantic and

50 Eichendorff, p. 902.51 Schlegel, p. 93.

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Enlightenment principles, botany – which was, of course, Chamisso’s own scientific

specialism – exemplifying a happy marriage between the Enlightenment pursuit of science

and the Romantic appreciation of nature, whilst also constituting a rejection of the

prioritisation of a priori facts over empirical evidence. Schlemihl is in some regards a

philistine due to his connection to the scientific endeavours of the Enlightenment. However,

redeemed by his more Romantic characteristics and his rejection of the German idealism

advocated by the Devil, he escapes comparisons with other philistines closer to Brentano’s

depiction, such as Herr John. As Winfried Freund states:

Chamisso erweist sich auch geistes- und kulturgeschichtlich als ein durchaus eigenständiger Denker, indem er den perfektibilistischen Aufklärungsglauben mit dem organischen Geschichtsdenken der Romantik verbindet.52

It is, perhaps, for this reason that Peter Schlemihl avoids the dichotomising view of

Romanticism and the Enlightenment found in other Romantic thought. Rather, the text can

be regarded as a self-aware presentation of Romanticism’s limitations and a more nuanced

critique of the Enlightenment than is usual in Romantic writing.

5. Bibliography

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