Despite knowing what we are, what do we hold onto that drives us?

Reading Faust has been, I think, a rewarding challenge. Goethe’s work is akin to a musical fugue. Especially in Faust II, he develops a final form, built upon preceding structures, that remains inspirited and mysterious. Since I’ve covered about two-thirds of Goethe’s work, I would like to complete my analysis and try to manifest a few questions that could potentially motivate discussion. This week, I’ve focused on how Faust I represents Man’s inability to embrace being as a limit, and on Wednesday, I discussed how Faust II shows Man’s creative and destructive modes of production. In the end, Goethe shows how Man inevitably must embrace his limits and that – by striving, struggling, and remaining a being of becoming – he can invert those limits into boundless ends.

By Faust’s end, I think it’s clear, Faust becomes a species of heroic figure. We see the man develop for decades of his life, and by the end – wretched as he is – there’s something somber about seeing him go. I didn’t want his soul to be taken away by Mephistopheles; I ultimately felt pity for him. Goethe’s ability to alter the reader’s perception of Faust’s character in this manner is magnificent.

By Faust II, Act Three, Faust’s redemption certainly hasn’t occurred. Mephistopheles, clothed as a Phorkyas – an old, unspeakably ugly, woman – tricks Helen and the Chorus into abandoning Menelaus. Once again, he deploys his inverted reasoning, claiming that if Menelaus were to sacrifice Helen, he would not have told her, and since he didn’t tell her, he plans on sacrificing her. Terrified and distressed about this possibility – which has no clear basis in fact – Helen and the Chorus flee with Phorkyas to Faust’s stronghold. There, Faust beholds his prize, yearned for since he saw her in the Witch’s enchanted mirror – Helen, a truly classical beauty. With her Beauty, Helen enchants Faust’s court, is placed upon Faust’s throne – for him to sit beside – and her judgment is perceived as solemn as a Queen’s. Thus, she’s not only the epitome of classical beauty, she’s also august and powerful. For a moment, one might believe Faust has found that eternal moment he would never want to turn from.

“FAUST: There is no past or future in an hour like this,

the present moment only

Helen:                                      is our bliss.” (p. 237)

Yet, Menelaus soon besieges Faust’s kingdom, disquieting Faust’s trance. Fortunately, Faust has other plans for Helen and Himself. He whisks her away to what appears to be some enchanted garden or forest (a sacred grove) where she bears their child: Euphorion.

Blessed with Beauty (Helen) and Happiness (Euphorion), Faust’s life seems to be complete. Of course, Faust is cursed by negation (Mephistopheles). Euphhorion – Happiness – always seeking greater highs, more profound pleasures, with an unquenchable thirst for delight, climbs the highest cliff and, for a brief moment – like Dedalus’ Icarus – experiences the greatest thrill – he flies. Yet Euphorion is mortal, and in a moment, he descends to the earth – he reaches his limit – where he dies. Helen, realizing that Beauty and Happiness can never be united, spirits herself away, returning to the lands of Persephone – Hades. The Chorus, believing they can follow her – for a moment – descend into Hades but are not meant for that realm. Common people, who have done nothing to earn high praise or fame, are returned to Nature, where they lay their claim. They become fruit-bearing trees, echoing cliffs, life-sustaining streams, and delightful vineyards. In the end, Faust is swept away from the classical world by Helen’s garb, returning to German lands. He wasn’t meant for a time that wasn’t his.

Back in Germany, Faust settles on a task that will sustain him and prevent his condemnation: he wants to wage war against the oceans and subdue them (p. 258).

“The surging sea creeps into every corner,

barren itself and spreading barrenness,

expands and grows and rolls, and covers

a long expanse of ugly desolation.

Imbued with strength, wave after wave holds power

but then withdraws, and nothing’s been accomplished—

a sight to drive me to despair,

this aimless strength of elemental forces!

This has inspired me to venture to new heights,

to wage war here against these forces and subdue them.”

Faust effectively wants to take the potential of the sea, the ocean, water, the source of life, and make it his. With this power, perchance he can make life for himself. And so, he has his task before him, but where is he going to find this land? Well, it just so happens – and who would have guessed – Mephistopheles and Faust’s scheme has not benefited the Holy Roman Empire. It has descended into an internecine conflict.

Seeing opportunity in the struggle between two opposing armies, Faust and Mephistopheles beseech the Emperor and promise him their aid if he will reward them; both will fight off the Emperor’s opponents. Using arcane arts and illusion, Mephistopheles and Faust drive back the False Emperor through numerous charms, including enchanting knights’ armors – without any knights in them – to ward away their opponent, summoning phantom flood, and conjuring smoke and fire. In the end, they get their land, and the Emperor’s lands are seemingly restored. Of course – because the Emperor won through devilish means – and the Church took notice, they wanted their fair share of his winnings. Scandalized by his use of Satan’s powers, the Emperor was beholden to the Church. Again, Goethe seems to imply that solutions predicated on contorted or backward thinking result in false gains, i.e., losses.

As he sets out to conquer the sea, Faust finds two lovely but recalcitrant individuals who will not move: Baucis and Philemon. Faust wants Mephistopheles and the Three to deal with these two older individuals. In the process, they die from fright, and their guest (who parallels Hermes or Zeus) is killed by the Three, who burn the couple's small cottage and linden trees. Faust hears about this destruction, he’s remarkably distraught. However, it does not seem as if he intended for them to have been killed. In fact, he wanted to build them a mansion. The destruction of these trees – known for their healing qualities – and the old couple (and their guest, representing Zeus or Hermes), also signals Faust’s unintentional destruction of the traditional, old ways. His desire to observe all he’s circumscribed through his will leads him to unwittingly annihilate – through his agents – the conservative mode, which – burnt as an offering for his desires – can never return.

“LYNCEUS: What was once a joy to see

now belongs to ages past.” (p. 286)

Four sisters then come to Faust’s aid. Three of these women see that Faust has already been given their gifts – Want, Debt, and Distress. Still, he has not been cursed by Care. Death following her on the horizon, Care enters Faust’s mansion, where she curses him with blindness. Still, unwilling to accept his fate, he goes to the courtyard, where he hears Lemures (nocturnal spirits of the dead) digging. Mistaking this digging for his people working, he states the following:

“FAUST: A marsh stretching along those mountains

contaminates what’s been reclaimed so far:

to drain that stagnant pool as well

would be a crowning last achievement.

If I can furnish space for many millions

to live—not safe, I know, but free to work

in green fertile fields, with man and beast

soon happy on the new-made soil

and settled in beside the mighty hill

a dauntless people’s effort has been erected,

creating here inside a land of Eden—

then there, without, the tide may bluster its brim,

but where it gnaws, attempting to rush in by force,

communal effort will be quick to close the breach.

To this idea I am committed wholly,

it is the final wisdom we can reach:

he, only, merits freedom and existence

who wins them every day anew.” (p. 292).

At this moment, he’s on the precipice of becoming Homunculus’ kin. Like that figure who created beauty, harmony, and unity, he too ventures to bring his community together to create (or maintain) a thing of beauty, a “land of Eden.” Yet, this struggle does not come without significant cost:

“And so, beset by danger, here childhood’s years,

maturity, and age will be vigorous.

If only I might see that people’s teeming life,

share their autonomy on unencumbered soil;

then, to the moment, I could say:

tarry a while, you are so fair—

the traces of my days on earth

will survive into eternity! –

Envisioning those heights of happiness,

I now enjoy my highest moment. [Italics Added]”

Finally, Faust’s epic journey has come to its end. He has found that moment he will live an eternity in, he – like Euphorion (his son) – has achieved his highest moment of happiness. As agents and descendants of his works – and because their work will go on eternally – so too will he go on eternally through them. At this moment, he achieves a unity between becoming and being, serendipitously contorting the agreement established with Mephistopheles. He negated negation by constructing a mode of being – through his perpetual striving and struggling – that perpetuates his struggle (his becoming). He finds harmony (Beauty), happiness (Euphoria), and – as we shall see – salvation.

Mephistopheles, who is seemingly not clever enough to grasp this moment, believes he finally has his prize: Faust’s soul. He summons a pit to Hell and calls forth demons to ensure he can wrestle Faust’s soul away. Yet, angels appear from heaven, and with love and roses, save Faust from the demons and Mephistopheles – a stark difference from Marlow’s Faustus, which has Faust carried away to Hell, unwilling to repent. The angels then raise Faust to heaven; he is saved like his beloved Gretchen.

Faust’s work – though born of darkness and sin – enabled Man to strive and struggle (daily) for his fellow Man, whose works would stand as his being and – through his work’s maintenance – enable others to sacrifice to save themselves and those works (which they would then become part of). Faust created a positive feedback loop, enabling the people in his community to continuously work on a project that saves him and them; he created a communal project of being and becoming for himself and his community. By accepting his condemnation at the precise moment he knew his work would enable his agents to eternally strive (on his behalf), he redeemed himself and overcame non-being. Therefore, one who embraces becoming (das Ewig-Weibliche) overcomes its tendency to produce negation (Entropy) by accepting its limits as being. When all is said and done, Faust and Gretchen dance eternally.

This poses some very profound questions for us as contemporary Westerners, perhaps questions that may be too deep for us to reconcile. For example, what should we be working on that enables us to perpetuate ourselves and others through our struggle and sacrifice for as long as possible, if not in perpetuity? What would this look like; how do we even get to that moment; where would we start first? What do religion, philosophy, art, literature, etc. have to offer us in this enterprise? The possibilities are seemingly endless.

What, then, should be taken away from the three lessons learned from Faust? Man does – in some way – have to learn to accept the limits of his becoming and establish a mode of being that perpetuates itself eternally. What might this mode look like? Secondly, there are two forms this can take. One form is based on illusory thinking, faulty reasoning, inverted logic, and misrepresentations of the world, which lead to destructive conflagrations and conflict, the likes of which annihilated Mid-20th Century Europe. The other form is a sacrificial mode based on diligence, sound reasoning, evidentiary thinking, producing beauty, harmony, and unity. How do we get Man to choose the latter rather than letting him be tricked by the former? Lastly, something like Love is required for this creative cycle to generate beauty, happiness, harmony, and unity. What is virtuous Love? To the question about how this Faustian mode should look, Faust has some advice for us:

“I’ve never tarried anywhere;

I snatched from fortune what I wanted,

what did not please me I let go,

and disregarded what eluded me.

I’ve only had desires to fulfill them,

then whished anew, and so I’ve stormed amain

my way through life; once grand and vigorous,

my days are spent with prudent caution.

I know this mortal sphere sufficiently,

and there’s no seeing into the Beyond;

he is a fool who casts a sheep’s eye at it,

invents himself some peers above the clouds—

let him stand firm and look at what’s around him:

no good and able man finds this world mute!

What need has he to float into eternity—

the things he knows are tangible!

Let his path be this earth while he exists;

if spirits haunt him, let him not break stride

but, keeping on, find all life’s pains and joys,

always, in every moment, never satisfied!” (p. 289).

Faust, thus, establishes a pragmatic, worldly mode unconcerned with things he cannot comprehend while he exists and that uses pain and pleasure as a motivating force rather than satisfying oneself in them. His unwillingness to concern himself with things he cannot grasp enables enabling him to detach himself from purely representational thinking. While man remains hedonistic or fearful of pain, concerned with things that are irrelevant to the world he lives in – if his head is in the clouds, or he’s dealing with things as an idealist or ideologue -- he’s failing to fulfill the Faustian mode. Casting Faust as the hero in this epic poem, Goethe also seems to be implying that Faust’s mode is one that Man should embody.

If the reader recalls, at first Faust was denied by the Earth Spirit, but in the end – in some sense – he made the Earth his own, culture his own, going so far as to conquer the sea, to do battle with a symbol of pure life and potentiality. In turn, he achieved eternal life, and salvation, and dominated the world. Here’s the problem: can Man – generally speaking – achieve this mode?

Some men, I have no doubt, certainly can. However, I also believe that most men cannot. This mode requires a sense of self and the capacity to develop oneself that is beyond most men, even if they’re part of a group. The vast majority of people will be unable to inhabit the Faustian mode. However, this is what makes contemporary Fausts so valuable. These men – if they’ve virtuously and ethically developed themselves – have the capacity to develop projects that sustain the people who work on them and enable them to generate projects that sustain others. In their improper place, these Faustian men are self-serving and cause destruction – as is evident in Faust I. However, this species of men needs to be properly curated. If their skills – which also appear to be innate – are properly developed, there is no telling what the limits of Man could be. Beyond the Ocean, beyond the Stars and Heavens, perhaps man can also set himself on conquering Time itself.

 Bibliography

Von Goethe, J. W., Atkins, S. (Editor), Wellbery, D.E. (Introduction) (1994). Faust I & II. Princeton University Press.