Thomas Mann was a German novelist, short story writer, social critic, philanthropist, essayist, and Nobel Prize laureate in 1929, known for his series of highly symbolic and ironic epic novels and novellas, noted for their insight into the psychology of the artist and the intellectual. His analysis and critique of the European and German soul used modernized German and Biblical stories, as well as the ideas of Goethe, Nietzsche, and Schopenhauer. His older brother was the radical writer Heinrich Mann, and three of his six children, Erika Mann, Klaus Mann and Golo Mann, also became important German writers. When Hitler came to power in 1933, Mann fled to Switzerland. When World War II broke out in 1939, he emigrated to the United States, from where he returned to Switzerland in 1952. Thomas Mann is one of the best-known exponents of the so-called Exilliteratur.
Wälsungenblut (a medium length novella about incestuous fraternal Jewish twins, whose title in English would be roughly Blood of the Wälsungs) is probably one of Thomas Mann's most controversial and problematic works of shorter fiction, having had both accusations of overt anti-Semitism and that the novella is basically a rather nasty and innuendo-heavy roman à clef levelled at it, with Mann's in-laws, with the Pringsheims, playing the main character parts (seeing that the Pringsheims were, in fact, secular Jews, and that Thomas Mann's wife Katia did have a very close and intimate personal relationship with her twin brother Klaus, rather similar in some ways to the two main protagonists in Wälsungenblut, to Sigmund and Sieglinde Aarenhold, although it must and really should be mentioned that there NEVER were any even remote accusations of actual incest between Klaus and Katja Pringsheim or even considerations of and for this, and that the vast majority of the issues and accusations surrounding the novella itself were therefore most likely due to some nastily putrid, judgmental and societal busybody Munich gossips).
However and the above having been said, and yes, in my own humble opinion, it is indeed and still somewhat problematic and potentially worrisome that Wälsungenblut originally did have an ending that might well be considered at least potentially anti-Semitic. For after their incestuous sexual rendez-vous (upon having attended a performance of Richard Wagner's opera Die Walküre and which also features two incestuous twins named Sigmund and Sieglinde), Sieglinde, asking Sigmund about the consequences of this for her (I am assuming) Christian fiancé von Beckerath, is answered simply and bluntly in Yiddish that they have tricked him, that they have "robbed" him of taking Sieglinde's virginity (with Sigmund also calling him a goy which can often have negative connotations and is seen by many as a derogative term for someone who is not Jewish). But indeed, in the more readily available later version of Wälsungenblut (and the one contained in most published anthologies) that same ending has been made considerably less pointed (although Thomas Mann seemingly only grudgingly had agreed to this), with Sigmund instead claiming that what happened (that the twins' incest) should be seen as a positive, that it would actually render von Beckerath's trivial and hence worthless life into a somewhat less trivial, more positive and praiseworthy existence.
And I have, in fact, read both versions of Mann's Wälsungenblut (the original as a photocopy for a graduate level course on Thomas Mann's short fiction), and quite frankly (and personally), although I do see the potential issues with the original ending (and its inherent dangers, its cynical nastiness of von Beckerath not only having been sexually tricked by Sigmund and Sieglinde but also having perhaps even deserved this simply due to who he is and what his culture and his background are), and while the altered and changed second ending is perhaps more so-called politically correct, it has to me, in fact, always tended to actually feel a bit potentially nastier and vicious than the first, than the original ending (as the second, the altered ending is really to and for me much more obviously and clearly degrading and denigrating of von Beckerath as a person, with Sigmund basically labeling his life, his very existence as trivial, as worthless, and as only having been made somewhat and remotely less so by the twins' incest, by Sieglinde's sexual tryst with he twin brother Sigmund).
So does the narrative of Wälsungenblut and especially that original ending expose Thomas Mann as an anti-Semitic bigot? Are some of Wälsungenblut's thematics autobiographical and thus specifically about Katia Pringsheim's close relationship to her twin brother? Is Thomas Mann therefore suggesting by means of this novella that his wife's relationship with Klaus Pringsheim was perhaps unsavoury, and is he thus perhaps also using literature as a kind of revenge for having married Katia Pringsheim more for societal and status reasons, as a marriage of bourgeois convenience? Or is the entire premise of Wälsungenblut perhaps an almost too sly and too clever ironic attempt to ridicule the notoriously anti-Semitic Richard Wagner by suggesting that there really is no difference between Wotan's mystical incestuous twins Sigmund and Sieglinde and a pair of incestuous and decadent bourgeois Jewish twins (who even have the same names)?
Frankly, I for one consider Wälsungenblut as much too multilayered and intricate a story, a plot, to have but one possible and even probable interpretation, and in my opinion (the open-ended questions posed above notwithstanding), it is primarily a novella that critically presents and condemns decadence and self absorption, and all of the other issues and themes presented and featured (even when one considers the implications of anti-Semitism, of racism and links to the operas of Richard Wagner) are basically subservient to this one main subject matter. For Sigmund, especially, is portrayed and depicted, described as decadence personified, as an individual who has decided to live (with his twin sister Sieglinde) an existence against both societal and genetical norms. Thus by living basically and specifically, willfully against bourgeois normality, Sigmund is in many ways rather akin to Thomas Mann's other and more well known decadent artist figures (although Sigmund's arrogance and unsavoury disposition, his lifestyle choices make him more akin to Cipolla, Tristan or Gustav von Aschenbach than for example Hanno Buddenbrook and Tonio Kröger). And because Sigmund is first and foremost self involved and in love with himself (extreme narcissism), is actually described as being rather androgynous, he also and primarily sees his twin sister Sieglinde as a mirror image of himself (and thus while the twins' relationship is perhaps incestuous, the fact that they appear as mirrors of one another, also makes their love for each other more akin to extreme and unhealthy self love); Sigmund does not really love Sieglinde as a person, he simply sees her as an extension of himself and vice versa. Highly recommended, but with the caveat that while interesting and thought-provoking, Wälsungenblut is also disturbing and potentially distasteful, even nauseating (and Sigmund especially has the tendency to make the reader squirm and cringe).
And if you are, indeed, interested in reading this novella, it is generally contained in most decent collections of Thomas Mann's short fiction (however and unfortunately, usually only with the second, the altered and considered less politically incorrect ending). And as I have never read Thomas Mann in English, I am unable and also quite unwilling to make comments regarding the quality of potential translations of this or other Mann short fiction offerings (so while I do strongly recommend Wälsungenblut with the above mentioned caveats, with any English language translations, it is definitely at least somewhat also a major case of "reader beware").
This is a short, very well-written (typical for Thomas Mann), at its first publication highly controversial story about a brother and sister, twins, whose love for each other borders on the incestuous.
„Alle Sehnsucht seines verrufenen Lebens war gestillt in ihr, und alles, was sich ihm kränkend versagt, wenn er sich zu Männern und Frauen gedrängt, wenn er mit jener Frechheit, welche Scheu und das Bewußtsein seines Brandmals war, um Freundschaft und Liebe geworben hatte, - es war gefunden in ihr.“
Two layers in this rather short novel: Incest love among overly sophisticated twins Siegmund and Sieglinde a very rich family in the beginning of the 20st century shortly before Sieglinde is about to marry a pale official from "good family" - and incest love on stage in Wagner's opera "Die Walküre" among Wotan's children Siegmund and Sieglinde who were separated early in life and met again when Sieglinde was married to Hunding, a warrior who - unsuccessfully - wants to kill Siegmund. Later on, Siegmund and Siegland have a son called Siegfried...
A long time ago, an old friend of mine asked if it’s possible to write a good piece of literature without at least one bit of incest. He reckoned, no.
I say, if you’re going to name your twins Siegmund and Sieglinde, this is what you get.
Wälsungenblut is an excellently narrated psychological deep dive into a day-in-the-life of a family so (nouveau) rich, they live mostly for different variations of pleasure. To the people clutching their pearls over this story: please, carry on. Nothing is quite so entertaining as indignation.
Für mich schien Thomas Mann mit diesem Werk der erste Influencer gewesen zu sein. Bis ich dann las, dass er sich eher über Wagners Oper lustig macht.
Dass diese Kurzgeschichte erst unter Verschluss blieb, ist verständlich, kommen doch einige unzimperliche Szenen zutage. Dennoch mochte ich Manns Humor hier. Er ist teilweise sehr ironisch, oft schon zynisch, aber genau deswegen grundehrlich. Vor allem, wenn man bedenkt, dass er sich in einer ganz ähnlichen Lage befand.
Definitiv kein Einsteigerstück in die Welt des Thomas Mann, auch kein Meisterwerk, aber wer dazwischen mal wieder ein wenig Lust auf diesen grossen Schriftsteller hat, ohne sich gleich durch den "Zauberberg" mühen zu müssen, kann gut zu dieser Geschichte greifen.
Kenntnisse der "Walküre" sind nicht erforderlich, aber ich war ganz froh, eine filmische Aufzeichnung der Oper gesehen zu haben, um selber einige Rückschlüsse ziehen zu können.
Ästhetische Selbstüberhöhung und elitäre Absonderung führen zur moralischen Entleerung. Wer sich über Gesellschaft, Ethik und Mitmenschlichkeit stellt, landet nicht in Freiheit oder Größe, sondern in Dekadenz, Kälte und Selbstzerstörung.
Der Inzest ist dabei kein Selbstzweck, sondern das äußerste Symptom eines Welt- und Selbstverständnisses, das sich nur noch aus sich selbst legitimiert.
Wälsungenblut ist eine Novelle von Thomas Mann. Sie entstand 1906, wurde aber erst 1921 veröffentlicht und persifliert Richard Wagners Musikdrama Die Walküre, indem sie die snobistische Selbstverliebtheit und inzestuöse Beziehung des reichen, jüdischen Zwillingspaars Siegmund und Sieglind beschreibt. Der Titel spielt auf eine Stelle in der Walküre an, in welcher Siegmund seine Zwillingsschwester Sieglinde mit den Worten „Braut und Schwester bist du dem Bruder / so blühe denn, Wälsungenblut“ zum Inzest (und Ehebruch) auffordert. Die Wälsungen sind ein sagenhaftes germanisches Geschlecht.
Die Erzählung gehört wegen stereotyper, (von interessierter Seite) als antisemitisch bewerteter Vorstellungen und Charakterzeichnungen zu den umstrittensten Werken Thomas Manns, der wegen Verstimmungen im Hause Pringsheim eine beabsichtigte Veröffentlichung in der Neuen Rundschau verhinderte. Wie passend für unsere heutige Zeit, in der ein jeder und eine jede als Nazi bezeichnet wird und Antisemitismus als Vorwurf das einzige Argument zu sein scheint, mit dem man in Ermangelung von Ausdrucksfähigkeit und eigenen Gedanken den Gegenüber zum Schweigen zu bringen versucht.
"S'invecchia, d'accordo, e che ci possiamo fare? Ma ciò che conta è che le cose per noi rimangano nuove, e che non ci abituiamo davvero a nulla... [...] L'abitudine è la morte." (p. 43)
I have conflicting feelings about this one. On the one hand, there are some great, evocative moments of mutual, almost parasitic self-obsession from the doubled selves of the twins which was both narratively interesting and pleasantly lush from a prose standpoint:
And neither Siegmund nor Sieglinde revealed any interest in the subject. Between their chairs, they held each other's damp, slender hands. Now and then their eyes met, melted, formed a rapport to which no one else had access or entry. Von Beckerath sat on Sieglinde's other side.
On the other hand, their relationship feels a bit underdeveloped. I understand obviously that this is a flicker of time in their lives that we're glimpsing, but the main hook of the story here is the twice-over vanity of these youthful too-alike twins. It would have been nice to lean into that more. Their otherness compared to their two siblings, the view their parents have of their unnatural closeness - these things can still be explored in a novella format, but they're not really touched upon. I wish this had been another 20 pages of character work.
Overall it's worth the read, but it could have been more than it was, and that lost potential does sting a little.
(Excerpts from the Penguin Classics translation by Joachim Neugroschel, with the altered ending).
With this edition specially you may remember to never judge a book by its cover. The name of the author is all you need to consider to get to read this one.
Im Mittelpunkt steht das jüdische Zwillingspar Siegmund und Sieglinde Aarenhold. Die Familie ist Dank des Vaters geschickter Heirat und einiger Taktiken zu viel Geld gekommen, so dass die Geschwister sich ganz dem Müßiggang, der Selbstliebe und der Langeweile hingeben können. Sieglinde steht kurz vor der Hochzeit mit Herrn von Beckerath, einem langweiligen Verwaltungsbeamten, der schon allein aufgrund seines Adelstitels eine gute Partie für Sieglinde ist. Ein letztes Mal wollen die Geschwister alleine in die Oper gehen, in Wagners Walküre und geraten damit in einen verbotenen Strudel der Leidenschaft.
Äußerst umstritten ist dieses kleine Werk von Mann, es sei antisemitisch, er würde die Familie seiner Frau beschreiben, wurde gemunkelt. Und natürlich ist die inzestuöse Beziehung der schönen Zwillinge an sich ein Skandal. Ich habe mich auf jeden Fall sehr gut unterhalten gefühlt, v.a. mit der satirisch übertriebenen Opernbeschreibung. Und sprachlich ist Waelsungenblut – wie könnte es bei Thomas Mann anders sein – ein Meisterwerk. Dazu noch die wunderbaren Illustrationen von Th. Th. Heine – einfach perfekt.