The narrative works of Kleist maintain the same high level as his dramas. _Michael Kohlhaas_ is a good example of this excellent narrative art, for which Kleist found no models in German literature. Unity is a striking characteristic; the action can usually be summed up in a few words, such as the formula for this story, given expressly on its first page: "His sense of justice made him a robber and a murderer." There is no leisurely exposition of time, place, or situation; all the necessary elements are given concisely in the first sentences. The action develops logically, with effective use of retardation and climax, but without disturbing episodes; and the reader is never permitted to forget the central theme. The descriptive element is realistic, with only pertinent details swiftly presented, often in parentheses, while the action moves on. The characterization is skilfully indirect, through unconscious action and speech. The author does not shun the trivial or even the repulsive in detail, nor does he fear the most tragic catastrophes. He is scrupulously objective, and, in an age of expansive lyric expression, he is most chary of comment. The sentence structure, as in the dramas, is often intricate, but never lax. The whole work in all its parts is firmly and finely forged by a master workman. Kleist has remained a solitary figure in German literature. Owing little to the dominant literary influences of his day, he has also found few imitators. Two generations passed before he began to come into his heritage of legitimate fame. Now that a full century has elapsed since his tragic death, his place is well assured among the greatest dramatic and narrative authors of Germany. A brave man struggling desperately against hopeless odds, a patriot expending his genius with lavish unselfishness for the service of his country in her darkest days, he has been found worthy by posterity to stand as the most famous son of a faithful Prussian family of soldiers. MICHAEL KOHLHAAS (1808) A Tale from an Old Chronicle TRANSLATED BY FRANCES A. KING Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohlhaas, the son of a school-master, one of the most upright and, at the same time, one of the most terrible men of his day. Up to his thirtieth year this extraordinary man would have been considered the model of a good citizen. In a village which still bears his name, he owned a farmstead on which he quietly supported himself by plying his trade. The children with whom his wife presented him were brought up in the fear of God, and taught to be industrious and honest; nor was there one among his neighbors who had not enjoyed the benefit of his kindness or his justice. In short, the world would have had every reason to bless his memory if he had not carried to excess one virtue--his sense of justice, which made of him a robber and a murderer.