Gedichte

by Theodor Storm, Gunter Grimm (Editor)

Wer bei der Lyrik Stroms ausschließlich an Idyllen und versonnene Festtagsklänge denkt, übersieht den entschlossenen Tonfall, der gleichfalls mitschwingt: Mein lieber Junge, man darf nicht in Erinnerungen schwelgen, wenn man fuer das Leben etwas leisten will. Vorwärts!

Genres: Poetry, Germany, German Literature

173 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1852

About the author

Hans Theodor Woldsen Storm (1817 – 1888) was a German poet and author.

He was born in Husum ("the grey town by the grey sea") on the west coast of Schleswig of well-to-do parents. While still a student of law, he published a first volume of verse together with the brothers Tycho and Theodor Mommsen.

He worked as a lawyer in Schleswig-Holstein, but emigrated to Thuringia in 1851, leaving his mother's household, and did not return until 1864 to become a writer leaving his homeland in Denmark.

He wrote a number of stories, poems and novellas. His two most well-known works are the novellas Immensee ("Bees' Lake", 1849) and Der Schimmelreiter ("The Rider on the White Horse"), first published in April 1888 in the Deutsche Rundschau. Other published works include a volume of his poems (1852), the novella Pole Poppenspäler (1874) and the novella Aquis submersus (1877).

Reviews

[Jan-Maat]

I have a taste for small books I consider them ideal for travelling if they can fit in a standard coat or jacket pocket (there are also poacher's pockets ideally for hiding away a rabbit or similar game liberated from the tyranny of gamewarden's and private estates, but then we get into entirely different literary realms well beyond my capacity to consider today). Among small books I particularly favour the Reclam series with their cheerful yellow covers. This particular one I have owned for years and still not read it completely from cover to cover - this is a consequence of being labelled in my mind I think as a travelling book, honoured and respected for its size and colour but equally not afforded the dignity of a complete consumption as a reading object. Perhaps that it is a volume of selected verse subconsciously encourages me to read it selectively, dipping in and out like a bee in search of pollen - if there were such a thing as an idle bee.

To prove it is a book long with me there are odd slips of paper here and there between the pages, semi-scrawled over in almost my neatest handwriting, which is to say it is mostly legible in the right light, and some leaves, I think from my Grandmother's funeral, but maybe also from other grave occasions

Upon which note I particularly like:
"Dat is de Dod, de allens fritt,
Nimmt Kunst un Wetenschop di mit;
De kloke Mann is nu vergahn -
Gott gaew' em selig Uperstahn!"

and also in standard German
"Nun schliess auch du die Augen zu,
Geh Phantasie und Herz zur Ruh!
Ein Licht nach dem andern aus-
Hier stand vordem ein Schauspielhaus."

The authentic taste of the nineteenth century I can't help thinking, regionalia and Death.

Half of the book is made up by prose - an interesting choice for a volume of selected verse - some literary critical, some letters.

[Tobias · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wenn auch keine großen Sprachkunst, so dafür wenigstens schnell und einfach zu lesen und vor allem geschichtlich interessante Dinge realistisch behandelnd. Von persönlich bis politisch wird vieles thematisiert, dem man gut folgen kann und damit ist Storm von den beiden großen Theodoren seiner Zeit ganz klar der bessere.

[Liedzeit Liedzeit · Rating 3 out of 5]

Die graue Stadt am Meer natürlich. Aber ich wußte nicht, dass auch Knecht Ruprecht von ihm ist. Sind’s gute Kind’, sind’s böse Kind’?

Am besten gefallen hat mir Von Katzen, worin er beschreibt wie seine Katze sechs allerliebste Kätzchen zur Welt bringt. Die Köchin, („Köchinnen sind grausam“) wollte davon fünf ertränken. Kommt nicht in Frage. Aber schließlich ein Jahr später:

O Menschlichkeit, wie soll ich dich bewahren!
Was fang ich an mit sechsundfunfzig Katzen! –

Ansonsten ein paar schöne plattdeutsche Gedichte und An meine Söhne.

Hehle immer mit der Wahrheit!
Bring sie Leid, nicht bringt sie Reue;
Doch weil Wahrheit eine Perle,
Wirf sie auch nicht vor die Säue.

...

Wo zum Weib nicht die Tochter
Wagen würdest zu begehren,
Halte dich zu Wert, um gastlich
In dem Hause zu verkehren.

[Toni · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5, definitely prussian and poetic realism