Mirrors and reflections

Rowlandson, A Templar at his studies, 1811
Rowlandson, A Templar at his studies, 1811

Wie deutlich des Mondes Licht 
Zu mir spricht, 
Mich beseelend zu der Reise: 
"Folge treu dem alten Gleise, 
Wähle keine Heimat nicht. 
Ew'ge Plage 
Bringen sonst die schweren Tage. 
Fort zu andern 
Sollst du wechseln, sollst du wandern, 
Leicht entfliehend jeder Klage."  

Sanfte Ebb' und hohe Flut 
Tief im Mut, 
Wandr' ich so im Dunkeln weiter;
Steige mutig, singe heiter, 
Und die Welt erscheint mir gut. 
Alles Reine 
Seh ich mild im Wiederscheine, 
Nichts verworren 
In des Tages Glut verdorren: 
Froh umgeben, doch alleine.

How clearly the moonlight
Is speaking to me,
Inspiring me on my journey:
"Follow the old track faithfully,
Do not choose any homeland.
Eternal torment
Would come along with the heavy days otherwise.
Onwards towards others
Is how you should change, is how you should travel,
Escaping lightly from every complaint."

Gentle ebb and high floods,
Deep in courage,
This is how I travel on in the darkness,
I climb courageously, I sing cheerfully,
And the world appears to me to be good.
All that is pure
I see gently in the reflection,
Nothing is confused
Or wilted in the embers of day:
Surrounded by happiness, yet alone.

Friedrich von Schlegel, Der Wanderer	D 649

It is all a reflection. The moonlight is itself only reflected light, yet it is shining ‘clearly’ or ‘meaningfully’ (deutlich). The poet is reflecting on the reflected light and the world ‘appears’ to be good or ‘shines with goodness’ (die Welt erscheint mir gut). His journey through the darkness of life is illuminated by a reflection of the purity that he is aiming to attain.

Here in poetic form is a restatement of the Platonic idea that human knowledge of the world is never complete or direct. We cannot know reality as it is, since we inhabit a realm where we can only perceive reflections, not the source of light. Yet those shadows and reflections are not simply delusions. Interpreted correctly, they can guide us towards reality itself.

Friedrich von Schlegel published ‘Der Wanderer’ (written around 1800) as part of his ‘Sunset’ collection (Abendröte). An earlier text in this same collection was ‘Der Fluss’ (The river), in which the imagery of mirrors and reflections is even further developed. One of the recurring themes throughout the Abendröte cycle is that the world only makes sense or becomes meaningful when a sensitive soul, a poet, reflects on the sensations coming from outside and forms an inner connection, completing some sort of circuit. The poet sees light reflected from a river and the mirror of the water is reflected in the mirror that is the poetic, beholding soul. There is reflection and reverberation. Overtones ring out completing the harmony.

Wie rein Gesang sich windet
Durch wunderbarer Saitenspiele Rauschen,
Er selbst sich wieder findet,
Wie auch die Weisen tauschen,
Dass neu entzückt die Hörer ewig lauschen.

So fließet mir gediegen
Die Silbermasse, schlangengleich gewunden,
Durch Büsche, die sich wiegen
Vom Zauber süß gebunden,
Weil sie im Spiegel neu sich selbst gefunden.

Wo Hügel sich so gerne
Und helle Wolken leise schwankend zeigen,
Wenn fern schon matte Sterne
Aus blauer Tiefe steigen,
Der Sonne trunkne Augen abwärts neigen.

So schimmern alle Wesen
Den Umriss nach im kindlichen Gemüte,
Das zur Schönheit erlesen
Durch milder Götter Güte
In dem Kristall bewahrt die flücht'ge Blüte.

In the same way that a pure song meanders
Through the miraculous resonance of strings as they are played
And finds itself again,
And just as the melodies interweave
So that the listeners, newly enraptured, continue to pay attention:

That is how, for me, the river flows so solidly
In a silver mass, twisted around like a snake,
Through bushes which sway
As they are sweetly bound up in the magic
Since they have found themselves anew in the mirror;

Where the hills are so keen
(And bright clouds are keen) to show themselves rocking gently,
While faint stars in the distance are already
Climbing out of the blue depth,
The drunken eyes of the sun bend down.

Thus it is that all beings gleam 
In outline within a childlike attitude,
Which, dedicated to beauty
Through the gentle goodness of the gods,
Preserves the transitory blossom in the crystal.

Friedrich von Schlegel, Der Fluss	D 693

After the initial stanza about reverberations, this complex poem then turns to the imagery of reflection. The river serves as a mirror that reflects the surrounding vegetation, the hillsides beyond and the stars above. These in turn ‘find themselves’ (reflexive verbs are inevitable in this context of reflection as a means of understanding or self-discovery). The meandering river embodies this process of re-flecting and re-turning. The poet who is observing this and turning it all over connects us (and our own sympathetic responses) to what others might simply see as an inanimate and insignificant landscape. The process of looking and reflecting transforms the external impressions into an inner perception of the invisible force that is driving ‘all beings’.

We have to remember that rivers (or perhaps lakes, pools or ponds) were the only mirrors available to most people throughout most of human experience. When it became fashionable in the 18th century (in the wake of Rousseau and others) to decry ‘civilisation’ one of the markers of the ‘return to nature’ was to dispense with manufactured looking glasses:

Ferne von der großen Stadt, 
Nimm mich auf in deine Stille, 
Tal, das mit des Frühlings Fülle 
Die Natur geschmücket hat! 
Wo kein Lärmen, kein Getümmel 
Meinen Schlummer kürzer macht, 
Und ein ewig heit'rer Himmel 
Über sel'gen Fluren lacht.

Freuden, die die Ruhe beut, 
Will ich ungestört hier schmecken, 
Hier, wo Bäume mich bedecken
Und die Linde Duft verstreut. 
Diese Quelle sei mein Spiegel, 
Mein Parkett der junge Klee, 
Und der frisch beras'te Hügel 
Sei mein grünes Kanapeh.   

Far from the big town,
Take me up into your quietness,
Valley, which, with the fullness of spring,
Has been decorated by nature!
Where no noise, no bustle,
Will shorten my sleep,
And where an eternally cheerful sky
Laughs over blessed fields!

The joys offered by peacefulness
Are what I am going to taste here undisturbed,
Here, where trees offer me a roof
And the lime tree emits fragrance.
This well-pool can be my mirror,
My parquet floor is the fresh clover,
And the newly re-covered hill
Will serve as my sofa.

Carolina Pichler, Lied		D 483

This explains why so much self-reflection takes place on river banks or by other bodies of water.

In Schober’s strange re-working of Ovid’s account of the metamorphosis of Narcissus, a young character is awoken by the farewell kiss of spring. She is at a loss to know who or what she is, and goes in search of she knows not what.

Ach sie weiß es selbst nicht. Tränen
Sprechen ihren Schmerz nur aus,
Und ein unergründlich Sehnen
Treibt sie aus sich selbst heraus,

Treibt sie fort, das Bild zu finden,
Das in ihrem Innern lebt,
Das ihr Ahnungen verkünden,
Das in Träumen sie umschwebt.

Felsen hat sie überklommen,
Berge steigt sie ab und auf,
Bis sie an den Fluss gekommen,
Der ihr hemmt den Strebelauf.

Doch im Ufergras, dem feuchten,
Wird ihr heißer Fuß gekühlt,
Und in seinem Spiegel leuchten
Siehet sie ihr eignes Bild,

Sieht des Himmels blaue Ferne,
Sieht der Wolken Purpurschein,
Sieht den Mond und alle Sterne,
Milder fühlt sie ihre Pein.

Denn es ist ihr aufgegangen,
Dass sie eine Seele fand,
Die ihr innigstes Verlangen,
Ihren tiefsten Schmerz verstand.

Gern mag sie an dieser Stelle
Sich die stille Wohnung baun,
Der verklärten, sanften Welle
Kann sie rückhaltslos vertraun,

Und sie fühlt sich ganz genesen,
Wenn sie zu dem Wasser spricht,
Wie zu dem geahnten Wesen:
O vergiss, vergiss mein nicht.

Oh, she does not know about it herself! - Tears
Are all that can express her pain,
And a fathomless longing
Drives her out of herself;

It drives her off to find the image
That is living inside her,
That her intuition tells her about,
That suffuses her dreams.

She has clambered over cliffs,
She climbs up and down mountains;
Until she has come to the river,
Which puts a stop to her frenzied course.

But in the damp grass of the riverbank
Her hot foot is cooled down,
And looking into the mirror of the river
She sees her own image.

She sees the blue distance of the sky,
She sees the crimson glow of the clouds,
She sees the moon and all the stars; - 
Her pain feels less acute to her.

For she has realised
That she has found a soul
That understands her innermost longings
That understands her deepest pain.

She would like to stay in this spot
And build herself a quiet home,
Where she can trust the transfigured, gentle waves,
Where she will feel complete security.

And she feels that she has been fully healed,
When she speaks to the water,
As if speaking to the being she longs for:
O forget, forget me not!

Franz von Schober, Vergißmeinnicht		D 792

Unlike Narcissus, who is stunned and fixated by the beauty of his own reflection, what this character recognises in the stream is sympathy – shared pain. She only attains an understanding of herself and her situation by means of this reflection.

Most poems that centre on this image of self-reflection present an experience of epiphany or sudden insight, but a noticeable exception to this is the moment in Die schöne Müllerin when the protagonist and the miller’s daughter sit side by side looking into the water. They too, like Forget-me-not, look down and see the sky, the moon and the stars emerging beneath them. The miller sees the flowers on the river bank reflected in the water, yet the girl’s eyes shine more brightly for him than any stars or flowers. He feels the depths calling to him in his longing for the girl reflected in the water. However, for the miller’s daughter, there is no epiphany. All she sees is the prosaic fact that it is starting to rain. We become increasingly aware that the young miller has no self understanding and that the act of self reflection has produced delusion rather than enlightenment.

Wir saßen so traulich beisammen
Im kühlen Erlendach,
Wir schauten so traulich zusammen
Hinab in den rieselnden Bach.

Der Mond war auch gekommen,
Die Sternlein hinterdrein,
Und schauten so traulich zusammen
In den silbernen Spiegel hinein.

Ich sah nach keinem Monde,
Nach keinem Sternenschein,
Ich schaute nach ihrem Bilde,
Nach ihrem Auge allein.

Und sahe sie nicken und blicken
Herauf aus dem seligen Bach,
Die Blümlein am Ufer, die blauen,
Sie nickten und blickten ihr nach.

Und in den Bach versunken
Der ganze Himmel schien
Und wollte mich mit hinunter
In seine Tiefe ziehn.

Und über den Wolken und Sternen
Da rieselte munter der Bach
Und rief mit Singen und Klingen:
Geselle, Geselle, mir nach.

Da gingen die Augen mir über,
Da ward es im Spiegel so kraus,
Sie sprach: es kommt ein Regen,
Ade, ich geh nach Haus.

We were sitting so intimately next to each other
Under the cool canopy of the alder trees,
We were looking so intimately together
Down into the rippling stream.

The moon had also joined us,
With the little stars coming along behind,
And we were looking so intimately together
Down into the silver mirror.

I was not looking at any moon,
Or at any starlight,
I was looking at her image,
Just at her eye.

And I saw her bobbing and peeping
Up out of the blessed stream,
The little flowers on the river bank, the blue ones,
They bobbed and peered back at her.

And sunk in the stream
The whole sky appeared,
And it wanted me to follow it down
Pulling me into its depths.

And above the clouds and the stars
The stream rippled cheerfully on,
And it called with singing and ringing:
Mate, mate, follow me!

Then my eyes glazed over,
Then the mirror became hazy;
She said: It's going to rain,
Bye, I'm off home.

Wilhelm Müller, Tränenregen		D 795 10

The reflection we engage with when looking into water can therefore produce either delusion or insight, illusion or perception. There is a different type of reflection when we look into the eyes of the beloved, however, and discover mutual affection.

Laura, über diese Welt zu flüchten
Wähn ich, mich in Himmelsmaienglanz zu lichten, 
   Wenn dein Blick in meinem Blicke flimmt.
Ätherlüfte träum ich einzusaugen, 
Wenn mein Bild in deiner sanften Augen 
   Himmelblauem Spiegel schwimmt.

Laura, it is as if I am escaping out of this world,
That is what I imagine, in order to immerse myself in the heavenly glow of May,
When our eyes meet and your gaze shimmers in mine,
I dream that I am absorbing ethereal breezes,
When in your gentle eyes my image
Swims in your sky-blue mirror

Schiller, Entzückung an Laura		D 390, D 577

The reflections that result from reciprocated love seem to offer take us out of ourselves in a different way.

In der spiegelnden Flut, im Schnee der Alpen,
In des sinkenden Tages Goldgewölke,
Im Gefilde der Sterne stralt dein Bildnis,
Adelaide!

In the mirroring flood, in the snow of the Alps,
In the golden clouds of the sinking day,
In the realm of the stars your picture shines out,
Adelaide!

Friedrich von Matthisson, Adelaide	D 95

* * *

In ihren schönen Augen 
War keiner Untreu Spur; 
Ich sah der liebe Himmel,
Der Anmut Spiegel nur.  

In her beautiful eyes
There was not any trace of infidelity;
All I saw was heaven in its loveliness
Reflected in the mirror of her charm.

Mayrhofer, Der Hirt	D 490

* * *

In düstrer Nacht, 
Wenn Gram mein fühlend Herz umziehet, 
Des Glückes Sonne mir entweicht, 
     Und ihre Pracht; 
     Da leuchtet fern 
In feurig wonniglichem Glanze, 
Wie in der Liebe Strahlenkranze,
     Ein holder Stern.  

     Und ewig rein 
Lebt unter Wonne, unter Schmerzen, 
Im treuen, liebevollen Herzen 
     Sein Wiederschein.
     So hold und mild 
Wird unter tröstenden Gestalten 
Auch in der Ferne mich umwalten 
     Dein Zauberbild.

In the gloomy night-time,
When grief casts its shadows over my sensitive heart
And the sun of happiness escapes from me,
Along with its splendour;
Then there is light in the distance,
In a fiery, blissful glow
As in a radiant garland of love - 
A beauteous star.

And eternally pure, 
Living amongst bliss and amongst pain
In a faithful loving heart
Is its reflection;
So beauteous and gentle
In comforting forms
And surging around me even when far away - 
Your magical image.

Josephine von Münk-Holzmeister, Blondel zu Marien	D 626

☙

Descendant of: 

WATER   Inanimate nature   REALITY AND UNREALITY  


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