The Rudolf Steiner Archive

29. The Classic Walpurgis Night, Final Scene – Address on Eurythmy

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends! Before we begin the performance of this scene from Goethe’s work, may I take the liberty of warmly welcoming, on behalf of the organizers, all of our esteemed guests who have graced us with their interest in this endeavor—which, from a certain perspective, one might call a significant poetic work—to be presented in dramatic form. What we intend to present is the conclusion of the second act of the second part of Goethe’s Faust, the conclusion of the so-called “Classical Walpurgis Night.” From a certain perspective—as I have already remarked—one might well hold the view that this work by Goethe plays a very special role, both, on the one hand, in understanding Goethe’s spirit and his intellectual disposition, and, on the other hand, in appreciating the poetic power of humanity. Anyone who delves more deeply into this episode from the second part of Goethe’s Faust—which extends in every possible direction—will find ample confirmation of what Goethe himself said to his friend and housemate Eckermann about the second part of Faust in general.

[ 2 ] Goethe once expressed in the following words what is so important to bear in mind with regard to this second part of Faust. He told Eckermann that he had woven much, much mystery into this second part of his Faust, which the initiate—who seeks the deeper meanings of this poem—would surely find and discern. However, he had also sought, through the shaping of the imagery, to appeal to the naive mind in such a way that one does not need the deeper mysteries at all if one wishes to observe the mere sequence of images on stage purely on an emotional level.

[ 3 ] But in doing so, Goethe is pointing out a distinctive feature of a scene such as the one to be discussed below—and of the many such scenes found, in fact, in the second part of his Faust. Anyone who truly attempts to discover what Goethe believed he had encoded in this scene, and who, on the other hand, possesses a free, open aesthetic sensibility that allows them to let what has become dramatically and artistically concrete [immediately] take effect upon them, will stand before such a scene and say to themselves: Here, for once, the highest human quest for knowledge and the truest human conception of wisdom have found magnificent expression in a poem, and at the same time, it is art in its most immediate form. —Precisely because it deals with the embodiment of the highest human quest for knowledge, such a poem, under Goethe’s powerful poetic force, did not become a didactic poem, nor a dry, sober didactic poem. On the other hand, however, all that is merely aesthetically playful is also eliminated by the poem, which is permeated throughout with human insight, with the most honest and sincere striving above all for that—which is, after all, the significant aspect of Faust—that can be called human self-knowledge and self-understanding.

[ 4 ] And this is what makes such a creation by Goethe so significant: it reveals how this personality—in the highest sense of the word—is absolutely honest through and through in his pursuit of truth and in his artistic work, and how he believes—with the utmost sincerity—in the possibility of receiving ever-new revelations in the soul the further one advances in life. Goethe was one of those individuals who had a deep, innermost faith in life, who were, so to speak, convinced that the older they became, the more abundantly the revelations of the world’s mysteries would flow into their souls. That is why it speaks so eloquently—both for Goethe’s spirit and for the spirit of humanity in general, in its uniqueness—that Goethe wrote down a scene such as the one we are now about to present at the height of his maturity, just a few years before his death, as part of the body of poetry that had already occupied him for six decades.

[ 5 ] Goethe looked back on sixty years of poetic and intellectual pursuit when he inserted this most mature episode of his “Humanity” cycle. And he never believed that what one is granted when one lives contrary to the maturity and experience of life—that what one is granted later—could in any way be less meaningful than what one is granted earlier.

[ 6 ] What, then, is the true purpose of this scene from Goethe’s work? We see the homunculus—guided by the ancient [Greek] natural philosopher Thales—being led across the stage in a vial, using a medieval alchemical image and drawing on medieval alchemical concepts. We see the homunculus in his quest to become a homo. It is precisely this path—from homunculus to homo—that Goethe seeks to depict in this scene. Underlying it all is the quest for genuine human self-knowledge and self-understanding.

[ 7 ] But this is what connects a spiritual science—as it should be cultivated here at the Goetheanum—with Goethe’s worldview, a worldview that deeply permeated Goethe: There are two paths that do not lead to a fruitful and life-affirming human self-knowledge and self-understanding—two paths that do not: not the one-sided path of mere scientific knowledge, nor the one-sided path of mere mystical, abstract, and inner contemplation. – Goethe was well aware that neither one-sided mysticism nor one-sided natural science can bring self-knowledge and self-understanding to human beings; that another path is necessary—the path that spiritual science must always uphold. Goethe had not yet reached the era in which spiritual science could exist. Today, spiritual science, more than any other discipline, is striving most intensely to penetrate Goethe’s worldview. Goethe was well aware that all the knowledge which leads to magnificent triumphs in natural science, and in mysticism to a certain externalization of the human being and to a certain religious mood, cannot, however, lead to an understanding of the essence of the human being. That which relies solely on the cognitive powers of external sensory perception—the intellect bound to the brain—cannot penetrate to the true answer to the question: What is the human being? How is the human being situated within the existence of the world?—This understanding, which is merely sensory and intellectual, cannot show the path from the homunculus to the Homo. This path can be found only when ordinary consciousness—which underlies both ordinary natural science and ordinary mysticism—is itself developed through those powers that are otherwise hidden within the human being, through those supersensible powers by which the human being can truly ascend to perceive with powers of cognition that no longer make use of the body’s instruments. In the spiritual-scientific perspective, we today call such knowledge—which is, so to speak, gained outside the body—imaginative, inspired, and intuitive knowledge. It is the kind of knowledge that a person would attain if, while sleeping at night—between falling asleep and waking up, in that state where they exist as a soul free from the body—they were suddenly to see in the spiritual realm just as they otherwise see, hear, and understand in the physical world through their sensory eyes, their sensory ears, and their physical intellect. One can become capable of this. Goethe wanted at least to hint, even if only vaguely, that one could attain it. Yet he did not wish—as is done in today’s spiritual science—to present imaginings of his own. He wanted—and this is the quality that adds a special dimension to his fundamental honesty in the pursuit of truth and art— he was not only honest, he was deeply, deeply humble both in his artistic pursuits and in his quest for knowledge. That is why he did not want to introduce just any imagination where he sought to draw attention to genuine human knowledge. He did not introduce just any imagination; he drew upon the imagination of Greek myth, of Greek [mythology]. He knew very well: In meaningful images, when one lives within them, human beings do not merely live in mere dream worlds, but rather in something closer to true human nature, whereas intellectual knowledge, sensory perception, and even ordinary mysticism offer only that which is not truly human—that which is not a real human being, but merely [little man], what is a homunculus.

[ 8 ] Thales now leads this homunculus across the stage. We see that Goethe truly elaborates on the images that, when conceived purely in artistic terms, can attract the soul and evoke a certain, purely aesthetic sensation. But we also see everywhere how he has woven his deeper worldview and sense of life into these things. We see how he first introduces the Sirens—drawn from Greek mythology as external images—here pointing to how ordinary consciousness, bound to sensuality, must be led toward a supersensory world.

[ 9 ] The Sirens lure us into a state of consciousness that gazes upon a world which humans otherwise experience unconsciously, from the moment they fall asleep until they wake up. Goethe clearly points this out. We are presented with a nocturnal scene. And joining the sirens are other figures from Greek mythology: the Nereids and Tritons, beings of a demonic nature who, when properly understood, Goethe believed to be closer to the enigma of humanity—the true enigma of Homo—than to mere intellect, which is close only to the homunculus. He also demonstrates this by presenting these Nereids and Tritons to us on their way to the Greek sanctuary of Samothrace, where the mysteries of the Cabiri were celebrated. These Cabiri—much has been pondered about them! Certainly, all that scholarly research—diligent, assiduous scholarship—that has brought these Cabiri to light deserves to be honored; yet a still deeper immersion in Greek thought and Greek sensibility is surely required if one is to recreate, and reflect upon what moved the Greek souls when they thought of what was represented by the demonic gods of Samothrace, by the Cabiri.

[ 10 ] These Cabiri are connected to all that constitutes the creative force in the great natural world, which in turn is related to all the creative force within human beings. Goethe shows that he intends to touch upon the highest mysteries of humanity with this scene simply by introducing the mystery of the Cabiri and having the Cabiri brought forth by the Nereids and Tritons.

[ 11 ] Then we see how Thales, who guides the homunculus along this path from homunculus to homo, attempts—through the ancient sea-old man, the sea-demon Nereus— one might say, all the individual soul forces that a human being can develop in the ordinary sense are presented, insofar as they are capable of allowing the human faculty of cognition to penetrate into a true understanding of humanity and the human constitution. And so we see that in Nereus we encounter a demonic figure who unites within himself what is otherwise present in human beings only to a lesser degree: the Greek intellect—but the Greek intellect itself elevated to the level of prophetic gifts. This Nereus intellect, this Nereus critique, is incapable of grasping the riddle of humanity, the riddle of Homo. Nereus refers to Proteus—one can see how Goethe’s modesty prevails in all of this—to Proteus, the demon of the forces of transformation in nature and human life. That he is the demon of the forces of transformation becomes evident to us through the fact that he himself transforms in his various forms. First he appears as a turtle, then in human form, then as a dolphin. Goethe refers to him to express how he himself strove, through his profound doctrine of metamorphosis—a spiritual Darwinism predating materialistic Darwinism—to trace the process of becoming in nature all the way up to the human being through the transformation of form. Yet Goethe remains modest, suggesting: Although the various paths lead close to an understanding of humanity, one can only grasp the enigma of humanity—much like a photographer captures an object from different angles—from various perspectives. One can then sense it, but one cannot fully comprehend it in one’s soul. – And so Proteus, too, must refrain from telling the homunculus what the path to Homo is. Nereus had already pointed out earlier that he was expecting his daughter Galatea, the sister of the Dorides.

[ 12 ] In this scene, Galatee represents all those forces that govern the vast cosmos outside and are similar to the forces that constitute human developmental powers, as the human being enters sensory existence through birth, beginning at conception. When a person such as Goethe contemplates this force—which lies not only within human beings but weaves through and surges through the entire cosmos—and when a nature like Goethe’s perceives such a force, he contemplates and senses the deepest mysteries that weave and live within the universe. Above all, a nature such as Goethe’s then becomes aware of how the profound and the great are related to that which already lives in everyday life, but which, precisely because it lives in everyday life, is not grasped deeply enough by human beings. It was clear to Goethe: When we emerge in the morning from that state—which does not appear mysterious to most people but can become the greatest mystery of life for those who think and feel more deeply—when one awakens from sleep in the morning and contemplates the forces that carry one out of sleep to the renewed use of one’s body, to the renewed finding one’s way back into the sensory world—then, with every awakening, albeit in a weakened, dulled form, the same forces are at work that are also born within the human body and active in the process of becoming human. —These forces are represented by Galatea’s approach. Contemplating and sensing these forces unites the sensory with the supersensory within the human being. Goethe surely sensed the significance of this juxtaposition of the sensory and the supersensory—how human beings constantly strive from the sensory toward the supersensory, yet how, at the very moment they are able to soar with their soul to grasp the supersensory, they must immediately let go of it again because the sensory claims their attention. Goethe portrays this so beautifully in this sentence, in that Galatea’s sisters bring the young sailors—the earthly humans—brought by the divine-demonic beings. They wish to unite these two realms. The divine beings, the supernatural beings, wish to unite with human beings. Yet: “The gods will not allow it.”

[ 13 ] Goethe vividly portrayed this clash between the sensory and the supersensory. Let me say it once more: Goethe’s deepest, most inner humility is particularly evident in this poem. Goethe sought the truth through a wide variety of paths.

[ 14 ] How meaningful it sounds when, in the midst of his long-awaited trip to Italy, he writes home to his friends in Weimar, in a sense echoing what he had sought to glean from his Spinoza—is what he now writes home as he contemplates the Italian works of art through which he sought to draw near to Greek art, as it still appeared in a reflection within the Italian works of art. He writes to his friends in Weimar: “As I contemplate these works of art and believe I have discovered the path to Greek art, it seems to me as if I were seeing how the [Greek] artists proceeded according to the same laws by which nature itself proceeds—and which I am now tracing. There is necessity; there is God.”

[ 15 ] And anyone who allows the profound thoughts in Goethe’s book on Winckelmann to take root in their soul will understand with what seriousness and grandeur Goethe pursued the trail of truth in artistic creation, without resorting to anything that human beings are capable of placing before their own souls through the aesthetic recreation of the forces of nature. Goethe also wanted to walk this path for himself, and he wanted to show how he, too, could approach the great mystery of existence—albeit only from the side, so to speak. We see this magnificently portrayed in the appearance of the Telchines of Rhodes, who were, in a sense, the first artistic re-creators of the forces of nature.

[ 16 ] Thus, we see, image by image, how Goethe seeks to show everywhere that the path—when undertaken—leads the human being from the homunculus to the Homo, from sensory-intellectual knowledge, which only the homunculus can provide, to supersensory knowledge, which alone can bring one to the Homo. And then, when the human being has truly arrived, through this supersensory knowledge, at self-realization—at the integration of his own being into practical life and into the universe—then the human being experiences something that Goethe now magnificently portrays in the conclusion of this scene. The human being who has now risen to supersensible knowledge and returns, as if awakening from a deep sleep, to make use of his sensory eyes, his sensory ears, and his sensory intellect—for him it is already just as it is for one who, here at the end of this scene, sees on stage that Galatea’s chariot is approaching: The homunculus, on its way to becoming a homo, shatters against Galatea’s shell chariot. This is how it is with our supersensory knowledge when we seek to bring it over into the world where eyes see air and water, [fire], and earth; where ears hear sounds; and where the physical intellect thinks. Thus, when we transfer Homo-knowledge into this world, it shatters against external physical knowledge.

[ 17 ] I believe this is expressed truly magnificently in the conclusion of Goethe’s “Classical Walpurgis Night.”

[ 18 ] We have now attempted—and please, esteemed audience, regard what is about to be presented to you as nothing more than a humble attempt—we have attempted, with the help of our so-called eurythmic art, which has been trained in a special way—a kind of art of gesture—to portray such Goethean scenes in their entirety, scenes that otherwise could hardly be fully realized on stage. This art of gesture differs from all similar endeavors—which are, after all, so numerous in this field today—because our eurythmy is characterized by the fact that it is truly not based on arbitrary gestures, but on an inner lawfulness. This inner law is just as definite as the law of musical art itself, and when one and the same scene, one and the same poem, or anything else is rendered in our art of eurythmy by one eurythmist or another, there is no more subjectivity in it than there is in the performance, say, of a Beethoven sonata by one person or another.

[ 19 ] With the help of this art of eurythmy, we may have succeeded, at least tentatively, in making scenes as difficult to portray as these at least somewhat possible on stage. Of course, since this is only a modest attempt, we must ask for your indulgence. However, I can assure you once again that it gives us deep satisfaction that our esteemed guests are willing to join us in showing their interest in this creation by Goethe.