Sentimentality and whimsicality are apt to strike one as the most
prominent traits of any art that aims at what is characteristic and
individual, rather than at what is typical and broadly representative.
The Germans are individualists. They can cooperate efficiently with
their fellow Germans, but each insists upon being himself. The German
novelist will surely treat by preference a character of notable
peculiarity, and if he writes many novels, he will try to give a
conspectus of the qualities of the stock to which he belongs. Thus
Reuter presents many characteristic figures taken from Mecklenburg;
Ludwig from Thuringia; Auerbach from the Black Forest; Gotthelf,
Keller, and Zahn from Switzerland; Fontane from Brandenburg; Storm and
Frenssen from Schleswig-Holstein. So strong is this tendency that the
Germans have a special name for this kind of art; they call it
_Heimatkunst_, a word which may be translated "art of the native
heath." If the author is a humorist, like Reuter or Keller, he will
successfully recommend his whimsical creations to our indulgent esteem;
or if he is a discriminating lover of mankind, like Ludwig, he will
reconcile us even to the supersensitiveness of a narrow-minded but
noble-hearted slater. The danger incurred by writers without humor and
without discrimination is that their creations shall seem boorish or
lachrymose.
Probably the most pitiful failures in German fiction have attended
those imitators of foreign models who mistook for "modern" what is
simply shallow and frivolous, and, trying to be smart, proved
themselves merely clumsy. Freytag, call him a Philistine if you will,
is preferable, with his gospel of toil for one's daily bread, to those
who would hold the dissolute idlers of the great cities to be typical
representatives of modern life. Fontane, on the other hand, as "modern"
as any, shows how an intelligent and cultivated man can assimilate
foreign suggestions, remain himself, and treat the actualities of life
with a matter-of-factness as far from cynicism as it is from prudery.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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