Charles Lewis

(London)

Between Fate and Skill. Translating Hölderlin’s Term “Geschik”

abstract. In this essay I revisit a vexed question, namely how to translate the term “Geschik” in Hölderlin’s theoretical writings. There are two places where its interpretation is contentious: in a passage from the Anmerkungen zur Antigonä, and in the first letter to Böhlendorff. In his writings he frequently uses the term to mean “fate”, but this is not an invariable rule. Depending upon the context, other interpretations (for instance “skill”) cannot always be excluded. It is also clear that Hölderlin enjoys playing on the etymological and phonetic relations between this and cognate expressions.

In the translation and interpretation of Hölderlin’s theoretical reflections, perhaps no term has given rise to more controversy than “Geschick” (in his orthography “Geschik”)[1]. As far as the poetry is concerned its primary meaning seems almost always to be “fate” or “destiny”, translated as “sorte” or “destino” in the first volume of Reitani’s Italian Hölderlin-edition[2]. But even in the case of the poetry there is at least one exception, and one must also bear in mind the resonances of “Geschik” with such cognate terms as “(un)geschikt”, “schiklich”, and “geschiklich”[3]. For the element of word-play – so prominent in relation to those terms in the poetic work – might on occasion extend to the works in prose. The publication of Reitani’s second volume, containing translations of the theoretical essays and letters, provides an occasion to revisit this vexed issue.

The term occurs relatively frequently in Hölderlin’s works, in both poems and prose writings[4]. As already noted, Hölderlin enjoys playing on etymological or phonetic connections between “Geschik” (or indeed “Schiksaal”) and such terms as “geschiklich”; and translators have responded in various ways to such resonances and ambiguities[5]. In the poetry there seems to be only one place where it unequivocally means something other than “fate”. This is in a passage on p. 76 of the Homburger Folioheft containing the words: «daß sie lernen der Hände Geschik» (MA I: 424, v. 2). Reitani translates «[…] l’abilità delle mani» (TL: 1073); although, as if to underscore the difficulty treated here, Jaccottet’s edition nonetheless offers «[…] le destin des mains» (PJ: 933)[6]. The latter interpretation has also been defended by Lawrence Ryan, in a critique of Szondi’s account of the letter to Böhlendorff of 4 December 1801[7]. For the term occurs in that first Böhlendorff-letter, where it has been the subject of strikingly differing interpretations. It also occurs (twice) in the third section of the Anmerkungen zur Antigonä (1804).

But in addition to the poetry, theoretical texts, and letters, we should not forget Hölderlin’s own translations. In his version of Pindar’s First Pythian Ode (1800) he renders μαχαναὶ – meaning, in that context, the means or resources of human achievement – as «Geschike»: «Denn von den Göttern die Ge-/schike alle den sterblichen Tugenden,/Und Weise und mit Händen gewal-/tige und sprachereiche geboren sind» (MA II: 203, vv. 76-79)[8]. Note that the same Greek word – albeit in its singular form and Attic orthography – occupies a prominent position in the first paragraph of his Anmerkungen zum Oedipus (1804), which proposes that modern poetry be raised «zur μηχανη der Alten» (ΜΑ II: 309). Further on in that Pindar translation «Geschik» is used in the sense of “fortune” or “destiny”, illustrating Hölderlin’s willingness to use the term in two senses within a relatively short compass[9]. But that first occurrence removes any doubt that “Geschik” in Hölderlin can mean something comparable to the Greek mēkhanē. Furthermore, as Beißner has suggested, a further such example may be found in v. 194 of his translation of the Third Pythian[10].

Accordingly, the use of “Geschik” to mean “fate” or “destiny” may indeed predominate in Hölderlin’s usage; but the alternative meaning of “ability”, “skill” or poetic “means” cannot always be excluded. Furthermore, the choice of a term which – unlike “das Schiksaal” – can have such disparate meanings might on occasion be deliberate.

As already noted, in addition to the use of “Geschik” in the first letter to Böhlendorff, there are two occurrences in the Anmerkungen zur Antigonä. I shall refer to these as “A1” and “A2” respectively[11]. In the case of all three occurrences there are some striking divergences among translators, which I set out in the following table[12]:

The relevant passage in the Anmerkungen zur Antigonä is the following (where both here and below my emphases are in bold, Hölderlin’s in italics):

ihre [i.e. die griechischen Vorstellungen – Ch. L.] Haupttendenz ist, sich fassen zu können, weil darin ihre Schwäche lag, da hingegen die Haupttendenz in den Vorstellungsarten unserer Zeit ist, etwas treffen zu können, Geschik zu haben, da das Schiksaallose, das δυσμορον, unsere Schwäche ist. Deswegen hat der Grieche auch mehr Geschik und Athletentugend, und muß diß, so paradox uns die Helden der Iliade erscheinen mögen, als eigentlichen Vorzug und als ernstliche Tugend haben. Bei uns ist diß mehr der Schiklichkeit subordinirt.

In its first occurrence (A1) it seems clear that «Geschik» must mean “fate”, since it is contrasted with an absence of fate or «das Schiksaallose»[13]. It is true that the latter term receives a puzzling additional gloss, by way of the Greek adjective dusmoros (meaning “unhappy” or “ill-fated’). However, that can be seen as a veiled reference to the Sophocles play mentioned in the immediately following paragraph. For there Hölderlin offers Oedipus at Colonus as a precursor of a modern or “Hesperian” tragedy, and (as Billings has observed) the term dusmoros is particularly prominent in that play[14]. It seems that «das Schiksaallose» must be contrasted with a different, peculiarly Greek kind of misfortune, one that belongs to the younger Oedipus (and the later Antigone). That would be the fateful encounter described at the beginning of the third section of each of set of Anmerkungen, involving the transgressive union with a divine power and described respectively in terms of «[der] Zorn» and «die […] Begeisterung» (MA II: 315, 373). In the case of A2, on the other hand, «Geschik» is compared with «d[ie] Schiklichkeit» – that is to say with decorum and propriety, or at least a skilfulness dominated by those characteristics. And «Geschik» is connected, furthermore, to something that Hölderlin calls «Athletentugend», that is to say a virtue or ability of a peculiarly corporeal kind.

The immediate context of occurrences A1 and A2 is therefore different, and we are entitled to construe «Geschik» differently in the two cases. It is true that we would then be confronted with a pun, or at least a play on words. But this becomes less surprising if one considers the so-called Nachtgesänge dating from the same period. As already noted, plays on “geschikt” and “schiklich” can be found in the last stanza of Blödigkeit (MA I: 444)[15]. And while such a technique may seem more appropriate in a poetic – as opposed to theoretical – work, it is in this period that Hölderlin is moving towards the kind of synthesis of poetic and theoretical expression that is found in his commentaries to the Pindar fragments[16].

There is another important difference between the contexts of A1 and A2, corresponding to the distinction drawn there between «[die] Schwäche», on the one hand, and «die Haupttendenz» or «[der] Vorzug» on the other. And it is that contrast that provides the clearest link with the first Böhlendorff-letter. For that letter expounds the paradox that the excellence of a culture lies ultimately not in its original endowment, or in what (for the Greeks) is described as «das Feuer vom Himmel» or «d[as] heilige[ ] Pathos»:

Es klingt paradox. Aber […] das eigentliche nationelle wird im Fortschritt der Bildung immer der geringere Vorzug werden. Deßwegen sind die Griechen des heiligen Pathos weniger Meister, weil es ihnen angeboren war, hingegen sind sie vorzüglich in Darstellungsgaabe, von Homer an, weil dieser außerordentliche Mensch seelenvoll genug war, um die abendländische Junonische Nüchternheit für sein Apollonsreich zu erbeuten, und so wahrhaft das fremde sich anzueignen. (MA II: 912)

The same “paradox” is expounded in the passage cited above from the Anmerkungen, albeit with a different emphasis. As befits a discussion of tragedy, Hölderlin begins by stressing the element of “weakness” rather than of “advantage” or “excellence’[17]. But to the «Fortschritt der Bildung» of the Böhlendorff-letter there corresponds the «Haupttendenz» of the Anmerkungen; and to the achievement «sich fassen» of the Anmerkungen, there corresponds the «Darstellungsgaabe» and «Nüchternheit» mentioned in that letter. As far as the element of “weakness” is concerned, in the Anmerkungen it is related to the Greeks’ previously limited ability «sich fassen zu können», for «darin ihre Schwäche lag»[18]. Our native weakness as moderns, on the other hand, lies in «das Schiksaallose»; and our «Haupttendenz» in the ability «etwas treffen zu können», for which Hölderlin gives as an equivalent «Geschik zu haben».

It is worth pausing over the expression «etwas treffen zu können». The connection with “Geschik” in the sense of “fate” is confirmed by the Antigone translation at MA II: 335, v. 482: «auf solch Schiksaal zu treffen [μόρου τυχεῖν]», which is used by Antigone to refer to the prospect of her untimely death. But not all fates are the unhappy ones frequently connoted by the Greek moros, and «Geschik» in A1 does not refer to a tragic destiny. It is rather «das Schiksaallose» that would correspond to misfortune in a modern tragedy, while «Geschik» in A1 can still be translated as “fate”. The reason for the differing emphases in the Böhlendorff-letter and the Anmerkungen is also clear. In the words of an earlier letter to Mehmel, the point of tragedy is that it is a demonstration «per contrarium». Rather than achieving a mastery of a more “Hesperian” sobriety, Greek tragic heroes fall victim in the end to their fiery Apollonian endowment: «Der Gott und Mensch scheint Eins, darauf ein Schiksaal, das alle Demuth und allen Stolz des Menschen erregt» (MA II: 851). But if our own original endowment is different from that of the Greeks, our element of tragic vulnerability will also be different.

It is striking, therefore, that in the second half of the passage above from the Anmerkungen he turns to the element of “advantage” rather than “weakness”, using (and indeed emphasizing) the term “Vorzug” that had also been used in the Böhlendorff-letter: «Deswegen hat der Grieche auch mehr Geschik und Athletentugend, und muß diß […] als eigentlichen Vorzug und als ernstliche Tugend haben». And – again as in the letter – he now refers to Homer or «die Helden der Iliade» rather than to the heroes of tragedy, distinguishing their kind of «Geschik» from our own «Schiklichkeit». It seems that «Geschik» now refers to a species of corporeal skill or virtue. It is true that such a “skill” is closer to the tragic sense of “Geschik” than is a typically modern skilfulness, for it was developed in opposition to the Greeks’ original endowment. That indeed is why it is more corporeal or “athletic”. And the fate of the tragic hero has a similarly “plastic” or corporeal dimension, albeit one with less positive connotations than in the case of the epic[19]. In any event, I do not think that Hölderlin has been negligent in employing an ambiguous term to convey successively different meanings. It is more likely that he has chosen his words carefully, and that what might appear to be an inadvertent pun has a serious intent.

What then are the arguments for a univocal reading of «Geschik»? As far as the passage from the Anmerkungen is concerned, Ryan offers little more than dogmatic assertion:

Das Wort “Geschick” und seine Derivate – auch wenn hier von «Geschik und Athletentugend» der Griechen und der modernen «Schiklichkeit» oder an einer anderen Stelle von «der Hände Geschik» […] die Rede ist – sind bei Hölderlin durchgehend von der Grundbedeutung von “Geschick” als “Schicksal” bestimmt. (cit. note 7: 263, n. 7)

This is a generalization that we have already had reason to doubt. But Ryan’s primary purpose is the interpretation of the Böhlendorff-letter, and it is to that question that I now turn.

The first point to note is that the letter does not refer to any distinction between a Greek “Geschik” and a modern “Schiklichkeit”, of the kind found in the Anmerkungen. And similarly, the letter to Mehmel is content to use the latter term in relation to the Greeks («eine heilige Schiklichkeit»)[20]. Such an express contrast seems to be a later development belonging to the period of the Anmerkungen. It may also be noted that the term “Schiksaal” occurs no less than three times in the Böhlendorff-letter – raising the question why, in one place only, Hölderlin prefers the term “Geschik”.

The next point is that the reference to “Geschik” in the Böhlendorff-letter occurs in a passage that draws certain conclusions from the immediately preceding discussion of the difference between ancient Greek and modern cultures. That is say, it draws conclusions specifically for poetic practice. Thus, after the paragraph cited above, the letter continues:

Bei uns ists umgekehrt. Deßwegen ists auch so gefährlich sich die Kunstregeln einzig und allein von griechischer Vortreflichkeit zu abstrahiren. Ich habe lange daran laborirt und weiß nun daß außer dem, was bei den Griechen und uns das höchste seyn muß, nemlich dem lebendigen Verhältniß und Geschik, wir nicht wohl etwas gleich mit ihnen haben dürfen. (MA II: 912-913)

Here Hölderlin refers to a long-standing study of aesthetic rules («die Kunstregeln»). And he is making a new or additional point («ists auch so gefährlich»), albeit one that finds its ultimate foundation in the more general reflections that precede. At least at first sight, the conclusion that we can have little that is “equal” or “in common” with the Greeks seems to relate specifically to that question of «Kunstregeln». And if we can none the less can have something in common with them in the matter of artistic technique, that would seem to correspond to the exception which he immediately goes on to note: «außer […] dem lebendigen Verhältniß und Geschik».

It is that immediate context that lends initial plausibility to Szondi’s interpretation of «Geschik» as artistic skill or technique (cit. note 7: 363-366). It is true that he must then also provide an explanation of the associated phrase «lebendige[s] Verhältniß». But in that respect, the connection he makes with the letter to Neuffer of 12 November 1798 also has a degree of plausibility. There Hölderlin dwells on his perceived poetic weaknesses, with a view to achieving «[d]as Lebendige in der Poësie» (MA II: 710). But that life or liveliness – evoked frequently in this letter to Neuffer – is not to be sought in a transcendence of the everyday, in the enthusiasm of poetic pathos or unworldly philosophical abstraction. It is sought rather in the integration of «mannigfaltig geordneten Tönen», including the tone corresponding to «das Gemeine und Gewöhnliche im wirklichen Leben» (MA II: 711). As Szondi points out, that letter is in effect an initial sketch of Hölderlin’s doctrine of the Wechsel der Töne, that is to say the poetics of the first Homburg period.

Those who prefer an alternative interpretation of the expression «lebendige[s] Verhältniß und Geschik» have also differed between themselves when it comes to the details. Schmidt seems to interpret the expression as a whole rather than its individual components, relating it to the prior discussion of the difference between modernity and antiquity:

Der Zielpunkt dieser Darlegungen ist aber keineswegs der ausschließliche «freie Gebrauch des Eigenen» [MA II: 913], vielmehr der freie Gebrauch des Eigenen in harmonischer Verbindung mit der entgegengesetzten Sphäre, der unser Bildungstrieb zustrebt. Das Ziel ist ein “klassischer” Ausgleich von «Nüchternheit» und Begeisterung («Pathos», «Feuer vom Himmel») [MA II: 912] – dieser Ausgleich entspricht dem, «was bei den Griechen und uns das höchste sein muß, nämlich dem lebendigen Verhältnis und Geschick». (KA III: 910)

For Schmidt, therefore, to obtain «das höchste» both we and the Greeks must find a “classical” balance between the elements of “Pathos” and “Nüchternheit”. It is less clear whether he would assign one element to each component (e.g. “Pathos” = “Geschik”)[21]. But where Schmidt sees two balancing components, Ryan finds only one:

Das «lebendige Verhältniß und Geschik» ist die schicksalhaft bestimmende Einbeziehung in eine “höhere Sphäre”, sei es in Form des heiligen Pathos, das aus dem unmittelbaren Verwobensein in den ursprünglichen “feurigen” Grund hervorgeht [= Greek – Ch. L.], sei es in Form der sich zur Teilnahme an einer erweiterten Einigkeit erhebenden Begeisterung [= modern – Ch. L.]. (cit. note 7: 264)

Unlike Schmidt, therefore, Ryan explains the formula solely in terms of participation in a sphere variously characterised as “Pathos” or “Begeisterung”. It is odd, therefore, that he insists that such – respectively Greek and Hesperian – characteristics enjoy «keine Gleichheit» (ibid.) or are (citing the earlier case of Hyperion) «keineswegs […] gleichzusetzen» (255). On his own account, therefore, it is difficult to see how this can be what we might have in common with the Greeks («gleich mit ihnen»), and so fall within the exception allowed by the Böhlendorff-letter.

Reitani admits that the passage is susceptible to different interpretations, but notes Hölderlin’s frequent usage of “Geschik” to unequivocally mean “destino” (PTL: 1700-1701, n. 8). He accordingly explains the two components of Hölderlin’s formula in terms of the biological dimensions of “life” and “death”: «l’esistenza biologica dell’uomo, ovvero [la] vita (la relazione vivente) e [la] morte (il destino)». These, and only these, are what we have in common with the Greeks, so that we share only «lo scopo supremo di rappresentare appunto la vita e la morte» (ibid.). However, on that account it may be difficult to explain how Greek art could have any special significance for us, as compared with that of any other human culture – while the letter still insists that «die Griechen [sind uns] unentbehrlich» (MA II: 913).

We have seen that other occurrences of “Geschik”, whether before or after the Böhlendorff-letter, do not compel a reading in the sense of “fate”. Not long before that letter, the term had twice been used in his Pindar translations to render the Greek term mēkhanē – a term used in the Anmerkungen zum Oedipus to signify the highest embodiment of poetic skill. And mēkhanē is mentioned in those Anmerkungen precisely as something which (despite all cultural differences) we might hope to have in common with the Greeks[22]. But a degree of uncertainty of course remains, and before concluding the discussion I should mention some further occurrences of the expressions “Geschik” and “lebendiges Verhältniß”.

The plural form «die lebendigen Verhältnisse» is found in the fifth of Hölderlin’s nine commentaries to fragments of Pindar, which are roughly contemporary with the Anmerkungen to Sophocles. For our present purposes, a parallel reading with the third of those commentaries (Von der Ruhe) yields a particularly interesting result. In the fifth commentary (Das Höchste), the living relations in question are said to be “held fast” both by laws and (in a less rigorous fashion) by «art»: «sie halten strenger, als die Kunst, die lebendigen Verhältnisse fest, in denen, mit der Zeit, ein Volk sich begegnet hat und begegnet» (MA II: 382). Those «living relations» evidently correspond to the various forms that can be taken by the destiny of a nation. In Von der Ruhe, «d[ie] Verhältnisse[ ] der Menschen» are again related to the «[das] Schiksaal eines Vaterlandes», and such modes of national destiny are again said to be “held fast” by laws: «Dann sind die Geseze die Mittel, jenes Schiksaal […] festzuhalten» (MA II: 380)[23]. But although a connection is thereby established between the concepts of “living relation” and “fate”, this is by no means conclusive for the interpretation of the term “Geschik” in the Böhlendorff-letter. As we have seen, the letter itself uses the term “Schiksaal”, while avoiding it in the formula under discussion. And while the first component of the formula («lebendige[s] Verhältniß») may well invoke the thought that art – both Greek and modern – must grasp (or “hold fast”) the living forms of its respective “Vaterland”, the second component («Geschik») might relate to the aspect of “art” itself, in the form of poetic “law” or mēkhanē.

On the other hand, a close connection between “Geschik” (in the sense of “fate”), and the idea of a living “connection” or “relation”, can be found in the Hölderlin’s somewhat earlier essay on Religion (MA II: 51-57)[24]. There the term occurs no less than five times; and the essay also makes repeated use of the notion of “Leben”, as well as of the terms “Verhältniß”, “Beziehung” and “Zusammenhang”[25]. In the following table, R1, R2 etc. refer to the occurrences of “Geschik” in the order in which they appear in all the various reconstructions of the essay. Once again there is some divergence among translators, but only in their rendering of the last of those occurrences:

In what follows my emphases are again in bold, Hölderlin’s in italics. R1 occurs in the context «in einem mehr als mechanischen Zusammenhange, daß ein höheres Geschik zwischen ihnen und ihrer Welt sei»; R2 in «warum sie sich den Zusammenhang zwischen sich und ihrer Welt gerade vorstellen, warum sie sich eine Idee oder ein Bild machen müssen, von ihrem Geschik»; the context of R3 is «der Mensch auch in so fern sich über die Noth erhebt, als er sich seines Geschiks erinnern, als er für sein Leben dankbar seyn kann und mag, daß er seinen durchgängigern Zusammenhang […] auch durchgängiger empfindet» (all these at MA II: 53). And R4 occurs in the context: «jener unendlichere mehr als nothdürftige Zusammenhang, jenes höhere Geschik» (MA II: 54). It is striking that in all these cases “Geschik” is used virtually as a synonym for “Zusammenhang”[26]. And if in those occurrences «Geschik» corresponds to the relation between human beings and the world with which they interact – referred to elsewhere in the essay as a «Sphäre» – «ein höheres Geschik» corresponds to the particular kind of relation that is the object of religious representation[27]. Those instances might help us to understand why, two or three years later, the Böhlendorff-letter can mention – as it were in the same breath – «[das] lebendige[ ] Verhältniß und Geschik». It is true that the earlier essay is devoted to the problem of religion rather than poetic technique; but the essay itself suggests a relation between the two («[s]o wäre alle Religion ihrem Wesen nach poëtisch») and refers to the process of honouring a god «in dichterischen Vorstellungen» (MA II: 57). In effect, the essay sketches a poetics of religious representation and myth.

Hölderlin is certainly employing a concept of “fate” in that essay, although it is not necessarily the one involved in his analysis of tragedy. If, following both Reitani and Louth, we assign the essay to the period around 1799, it would be contemporary with a high-point in his reception of ancient Stoicism (as evidenced in particular by the ode Dichtermuth of 1800). The notion of fate is central to the Stoic philosophy; and here one of the key texts for Hölderlin’s reception is the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius[28]. See especially Book 5.8 of that work, with its advice that «what happens to each individual is somehow arranged to conduce to his destiny [εἱμαρμένην]» and that we should «welcome» everything that arrives since, on the one hand, it is essential to the coherence of the whole, and on the other «[it] is related to you, a thread of destiny spun [συγκλωθόμενον] for you from the first by the most ancient causes» (37-38)[29]. If Dichtermuth (vv. 2, 5) connects the poet’s service to fate («die Parze») with an attitude of welcoming acceptance («es sei alles geseegnet dir»), the essay relates what it calls the “remembrance” of fate to a sentiment of gratitude («als er sich seines Geschiks [R3] erinnern, als er für sein Leben dankbar seyn kann und mag»). And the idea of human life as part of a web of relations is central to Hölderlin’s account of religion. It is true that the object of religious (or poetic) representation is distinct from the inexorable concatenation of causes that inspires the exercise of Stoic reason. To represent «den innigeren Zusammenhang des Lebens» (MA II: 54) religion must instead have recourse to poetry and myth: only the latter can express «jene[n] unendlichere[n] […] Zusammenhang, jenes höhere Geschik» (R4).

The above observations apply to the first four occurrences. The context for R5, on the other hand, is somewhat different: «wenn es nicht die Väter einer Familie sind, die das Geschäft und Geschik derselben [i.e. d[er] Religionsstifter – Ch. L.] forterbt» (MA II: 57). The manuscript breaks off before the sentence can be completed; but it provides further evidence of Hölderlin using “Geschik” probably to mean something closer to “skill” than to “fate” – as at least the non-anglophone translators agree.

The Stoic notion of fate expresses the idea of the cosmos as a well-ordered whole. This is the reason that Marcus Aurelius gives in Book 5.8 for welcoming our individual destinies, however painful the accidents of our lives may be: «We speak of the fitness of these happenings as masons speak of the “fit” of squared stones in walls or pyramids, when they join each other in a defined relation. In the whole of things there is one harmony […]» (37). Note how the idea of fate is connected with that of a skilful fit of parts to the whole, as if the universe were ordered by a divine craftsman. The ambiguity that we have found in Hölderlin’s term “Geschik” is overcome, but only at the price of a particular metaphysics. It is noteworthy that, when Hölderlin revised Dichtermuth for the purposes of the later version Blödigkeit, the theme of service to «die Parze» (i.e. Clotho) becomes a reference to the woven fabric of poetic truth («Geht auf Wahrem dein Fuß nicht, wie auf Teppichen?»). And the final stanza of Blödigkeit of course contains Hölderlin’s most striking play on “geschikt” and “schiklich”, ending with a resounding affirmation of poetic craft («schikliche Hände»)[30]. The date of the Böhlendorff-letter falls between those two versions of the ode. One way of formulating our present problem would be to ask on which side of that transformation its reference to «Geschik» belongs. Does the term refer to the intimate web of life-relations that can be captured in art, or to the craft that allows them to be articulated by the poet? Or does it correspond, finally, to the well-ordered character of the art-work itself, in accordance with a further definition that can be found in Grimm: «die rechte art, wie sich eins zum andern ordnet, das richtige, passende verhältnis»[31].

Conclusion

The above discussion has perhaps done more to highlight the difficulties in interpreting Hölderlin’s term “Geschik” than in all cases to resolve them. But it may have also demonstrated its centrality to Hölderlin’s reflections on the nature of ancient and modern poetic art, and on the relation between the two. It is surely the term’s very ambiguity – or polyvalence – that makes it a suitable instrument for those reflections. It is also clear that it is in the latest phase of his poetic thought that this becomes most apparent. Thus it is in works such as the Nachtgesänge and the Anmerkungen zur Antigonä that the problem of the poet’s task is explored in terms that can connote both “fate” and “skill”. Here one can cite “geschickt”, and even “geschiklich”, as well as the term “Geschik” itself. While the interpretation of the earlier letter to Böhlendorff cannot yet be regarded as settled, it is striking how the same problem is again articulated in terms of “Geschik”, as opposed to the more unequivocal term “Schiksaal” that is also found in the letter. And if translating Hölderlin is no easy task, in undertaking it we have the satisfaction of bringing these fascinating difficulties into sharper relief.

 

 

 

Bibliography

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Fragments de poétique et autres textes. Présentation, traduction et notes de Jean-François Courtine. Paris 2006. (FP)

Hymns and Fragments. Trans. by Richard Sieburth. Princeton NJ 1984. (HF)

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Poems and Fragments. Trans. by Michael Hamburger. London 2004⁴. (PF)

Essays and Letters on Theory. Trans. by Thomas Pfau. Albany NY 1988. (Pfau)

Œuvres. Sous la direction de Philippe Jaccottet. Paris 1967. (PJ)

Prose, teatro e lettere. A cura di Luigi Reitani. Milano 2019. (PTL)

Scritti di estetica. A cura di Riccardo Ruschi. Milano 2004². (Ruschi)

Selected Poetry. Trans. by David Constantine. Hexham 2018. (SP)

Tutte le liriche. Edizione tradotta e commentata e revisione del testo critico tedesco a cura di Luigi Reitani. Milano 2001, 2004². (TL)

Other primary sources

Marcus [Aurelius] Antoninus: Qvos Ipse Sibi Scripsit. [Hrsg. v. Samuel Friedrich Nathanael Morus.] Leipzig 1775.
http://digitale.bibliothek.uni-halle.de/vd18/content/titleinfo/2921849

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus: Selbstbetrachtungen. Übers. v. Albert Wittstock. Stuttgart 1949.

Marcus Aurelius [Antoninus]: Meditations. Trans. by Martin Hammond. London 2006.

Sophocles: Oedipus the King. Ed. by P. J. Finglass. Cambridge Classical Texts and Commentaries, 57. Cambridge 2018.

Secondary literature

Billings, Joshua: The Genealogy of Tragedy. Greek Tragedy and German Philosophy. Princeton NJ; Oxford 2014.

Castellari, Marco: «Es klingt paradox». Hölderlin, Böhlendorff e il teatro moderno. In: «Studia theodisca – Hölderliniana» II.2016: 119-144.

Christen, Felix: Das Jetzt der Lektüre. Zur Edition und Deutung von Friedrich Hölderlins Ister-Entwürfen. Frankfurt/M.; Basel 2013.

Gaier, Ulrich: Hölderlin. Eine Einführung. Tübingen; Basel 1993.

Gonther, Utwe und Andreas Reinecke: Veränderungen in Hölderlins Sprache vor und nach dem Bordeaux-Aufenthalt am Beispiel der beiden Briefe an seinen Freund Casimir Ulrich Böhlendorff. In: «Hölderlin-Jahrbuch» 41.2018-2019: 122-146.

Groddeck, Wolfram: Über das “Wortlose” in Hölderlins Ode Thränen. In: «Deutsche Vierteljahrsschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte» 80.2006: 624-639.

Groddeck, Wolfram: Hölderlins Elegie Brod und Wein oder Die Nacht. Frankfurt/M.; Basel 2012.

Lewis, Charles: The Law of Poetry. Studies in Hölderlin’s Poetics. Cambridge 2019.

Louth, Charlie: «jene zarten Verhältnisse». Überlegungen zu Hölderlins Aufsatzbruchstück Über Religion/Fragment philosophischer Briefe. In: «Hölderlin-Jahrbuch» 39.2014-2015: 124-138.

Ryan, Lawrence: «Vaterländisch und natürlich, eigentlich originell»: Hölderlins Briefe an Böhlendorff. In: «Hölderlin-Jahrbuch» 34.2004-2005: 246-276.

Szondi, Peter: Überwindung des Klassizismus. Der Brief an Böhlendorff vom 4. Dezember 1801. In Szondi: Schriften I. Hrsg. v. Jean Bollack et al. Frankfurt/M. 1978: 345-366.