Brothers -- Drama; German drama -- Translations into English; Inheritance and succession -- Drama; Tragedies (Drama)
The "Adramelech" of Klopstock (in his Messiah) awakens in us a feeling
in which admiration is blended with detestation. We follow Milton's
Satan with shuddering wonder through the pathless realms of chaos. The
Medea of the old dramatists is, in spite of all her crimes, a great and
wondrous woman, and Shakespeare's Richard III. is sure to excite the
admiration of the reader, much as he would hate the reality. If it is
to be my task to portray men as they are, I must at the same time
include their good qualities, of which even the most vicious are never
totally destitute. If I would warn mankind against the tiger, I must
not omit to describe his glossy, beautifully-marked skin, lest, owing to
this omission, the ferocious animal should not be recognized till too
late. Besides this, a man who is so utterly depraved as to be without a
single redeeming point is no meet subject for art, and would disgust
rather than excite the interest of the reader; who would turn over with
impatience the pages which concern him. A noble soul can no more endure
a succession of moral discords than the musical ear the grating of
knives upon glass.
And for this reason I should have been ill-advised in attempting to
bring my drama on the stage. A certain strength of mind is required
both on the part of the poet and the reader; in the former that he may
not disguise vice, in the latter that he may not suffer brilliant
qualities to beguile him into admiration of what is essentially
detestable. Whether the author has fulfilled his duty he leaves others
to judge, that his readers will perform theirs he by no means feels
assured. The vulgar--among whom I would not be understood to mean
merely the rabble--the vulgar I say (between ourselves) extend their
influence far around, and unfortunately--set the fashion. Too
shortsighted to reach my full meaning, too narrow-minded to comprehend
the largeness of my views, too disingenuous to admit my moral aim--they
will, I fear, almost frustrate my good intentions, and pretend to
discover in my work an apology for the very vice which it has been my
object to condemn, and will perhaps make the poor poet, to whom anything
rather than justice is usually accorded, responsible for his simplicity.
Thus we have a _Da capo_ of the old story of Democritus and the
Abderitans, and our worthy Hippocrates would needs exhaust whole
plantations of hellebore, were it proposed to remedy this mischief by a
healing decoction.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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