In the books dealing with Meister’s connection with the drama Goethe
displays to perfection his matchless power of giving charm, through
sheer force of style, even to scenes and incidents that are not in
themselves very impressive. The characters, too, have astonishing
vitality. We are told little about them, and their motives are never
elaborately analysed. They are simply made to act before us, and we thus
learn to know them, each in his and her own clearly marked
individuality, as if we had met them in real life. Meister himself, with
his wavering impulses and vague strivings after an ideal existence, is
revealed with absolute truth to nature, and, although he never wins (nor
is intended to win) our full respect, we are compelled, almost in spite
of ourselves, to follow him with interest from stage to stage of his
career. The most important character, however, is not Meister, but
Mignon, one of the strangest, most pathetic figures in the world’s
literature. Transported in childhood from “the land where the citrons
blossom” to the cold North, she is never at home in the scenes in which
we find her. Calm, gentle, self-possessed, she conceals a burning
passion that in the end consumes her life; yet she is of so ethereal a
nature that she seems to glide through the world as one who in no way
belongs to it. A more truly poetic conception never took form in a
romance; and Mignon alone, even if “Wilhelm Meister” had contained no
other element of interest, would have sufficed to make the book
immortal. In relation to her the hero is seen at his best, and it is she
who gives the work such unity as it possesses--a unity of spirit rather
than of form. The songs sung by Mignon and by the Harper (another highly
poetic figure, marked out from the beginning, like Mignon, for a tragic
doom) are among Goethe’s lyrical masterpieces, remarkable equally for
the depth of their meaning and the purity, sweetness, and grace of their
expression. In almost startling contrast to Mignon is the gay, bright,
coquettish Philline--the type of feminine Bohemianism; a character
thoroughly self-consistent and full of bounding life until we hear about
her in the unfortunate concluding scenes, when things are told of her
that tend to make her utterly unintelligible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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