Focus Fall 1994.tif Winter Answers in the Poetry of Ilse Aichinger Amanda Ritchie ... fine distinct ion between silence and muteness has occupied the IiJII interest of lise Aichinger scho lars since she began publishing in 1948. The reception of Aichinger's first work, a novel entitled Die grojlere HoJJntmg, already included the observation that her language was sparse and even abstruse. Much of the response to Aichinger's first novel did not address its themes, hut centered rather on the poet'S use of language, especially her ability to accomplish so much with so few words. Discussions about silence and muteness contlnued with the subsequent publication of other prose works, especially Aichinger's dialogues, since almost all of them display the peculiar paucity of ver­ biage that is an identlfying characteristic of her work. BOl even though most of the critical observat ions about silence and muteness have been confined to the prose works, the difference between the two prob­ ably is more important in the poet's lyric work, since one can tell just by looking at the page exactly how few words actually appear. Sel­ dom in even the longest o f poems does the num ber of words exceed 100. And occasionally, an extraordinarily powerful effect is achieved with as few as 25 words, as in the case of "Mein Vater," one of the best kn own of the poems that appear in the co llection called Verschenkter Rat (1978, 1991). It cou ld be argued that the appearance of just a few words In short li nes on t he page is the onl y way to tell Aichinger's poetry from her prose, since in none of the poems do traditional hall­ marks of poetry, such as rhyme or meter, playa part. Neither are o ther poetic devices, such as alliteration, refrain, onomatopoeia, and assonance to be observed in any large measure, fu rther blurring t he distinction between that which is traditionally called poetry and very short prose. Aichinger has underscored the fuzziness of the line be­ tween poetry and prose by nami ng some of the shon stoneS in the 1976 Schlee-hte Worter collection "prose poems" (Prosagedichte). FOClIJ orr Littr(t/ur Vol. I, No. 2 (1994) 112 FOOH 011 LtteratJtr The brevity of Aichinger's poems not only carries a strong visual effect on the printed page, hut also calls attention to the facllhal every word has more than one purpose, and that it is the task of the ind i­ vidual reader to son out and come to terms with each image on more than one level of meaning. To make that job more 5UenUQUS, many of the recurring images in the poems seem hard to decode, a particular problem with Aichinger's poetry that will be discussed in .de~ai l b~. low. FinaUy, the difficulty is compounded by the fact that Alchmger 5 work does not fall into any of the categories most common in the post-war literature of German-speaking author;" The,re is neither ref­ erence to personal guilt about the war, so eV l den~ In the works ~ f Gu nter Grass, among others, nor is there much eVidence of the ~Ul lt expressed by German and Austrian intellectuals that they SUrviVed the horror while so many others did nolo It could be argued that the guilt felt by German-speaking survivors of the war is ,appar:nt. in th,e poems by way of reference to the grandmother figure, Slllce AlchUlger s grandmother perished in the H olocaust, but these references occur only a few times i.n t.he poems which appear in V~henkterRat. There is neither evidence of themes that reflect the de~i1re to return home (Heimkehr) in Aichinger's poems, nor is there a sense of a z.ero p~int theory (Nul lpunkttheorie). She does not appear to favor any pan.ICU­ lar political system, and she has little or nothing to offer about t he politics of the day in Ausu ia, Germany, or elsewhere. T he poems do not seem to espouse any panicular world view or even to h~ld_ any panicu lar advice for the reader_ In _ fact,. th: only characten.s~,c ~f Aic.h.i nger's poetry that clearly does Identify It .as post-war wnung IS the sparseness and starkness of her language. Like many post-w~r au­ thors, she seems to avoid saying much for fear that saytng anyt1uug at all could trivializ.e the enormity of the horror of World War II . The tendency toward si lence was already evident in Au~t~a.n and Gennan literature before the turn of the century. Many CritiCS, such as Il allS-Georg Gadamer, attributed the silence to misgivings a~ollt the future infin de Slecle Europe and the increasing power of macb mes and aUlOmation in German-speaking society. Gadamer wrote: " In unserer z.unehmend von anonymen Apparamren beherrschten Gesell­ schaft in der das Won !licllt mehr unmiuelbare Kommunikation sti f· tet, er'hebt sich die Frage, welche Macht und welche M~glichkei~en noch die Ku nst des Wortes, die Dichtu ng, haben kan n (123) . 1 he Winter Answers in the Poetry of I1se Aichingcr 113 situation became much more extreme in post-war Germany, mostly because of the difficulty of trying to come to grips with the horror of National Socialism and Gemlany's crimes against humanity. To make matters even worse, it was unclear whom to trust, or whether to trust anyone at all, even oneself. Gadamer wrote that it was and still is this situation which makes it seem as t hough German-speaking writers have became mute: "[Die Dichter] si.nd notwendig leise geworden. Wie diskrete Mineilungen leise gesagt werden, damit kein Unberufener sie hort, so 1St 3uch das Sprechen des Dichters geworden. Er teih dem etwas mit, der dafur das O hr hat und sich ihm zuneigt. Er nusten ihm gleichsam etwas ins Ohr, und cler Leser, der ganz. Ohr ist, nickt schlie/!­ tich. Er hat verstanden" (135). Aichinger is one of the best examples of the poet who whispers to us in near-silence. The poet herself has on more than one occasion expressed an opinion on the imponant difference bet ween silence and muteness in her work. In a conversation with Luz.ia Stettler in 1984, for example, she said, "Es gibt die Stummheit, und es gibt das Schwei­ gen. Und die SlUmmheit immer wieder in das Schweigen loU ubersetz.en, das ist die Aufgabe des Schreibens" (f.,.loser 36). Clearly, Alchinger sees a purpose to writing in such a way as to infuse silence with mean­ ing and to differentiate it from muteness. She exp ressed herself even mo re exacdy on the topic in a discussion with Manuel Esser in 1986: "Das Schweigen gehon fur mich zum \Xficlnigsten auf der Welt, weil es nicht etwas Leeres, sondern etwas Erfulhes ist. Es hiingt eng m.it dem T od Zusammen, mil einem erfulhen T od. Es hat auch mil dem Schreiben sehr viel z.u tun. Jeder Satz, den man schreibt, muB durch unge heuer vie I ungeschriebene SaLZe gedeckt sein, weil er sonst gar nicht dasteht" (Moser 50). Silence is fulfilling and an end in itself,li ke a peaceful death. And when the poet writes, it is wit h the knowledge that mOSt of what is to be said must remain unwritten in orderto lead the reader away from muteness and tOward meaningful silence. In shan , Aichillger's silence is the silence of thoughtful contemplation, not the muteness of despair. In ligh t of this important reature of her work, it seems wisest 10 accept most of Aichinger's poems as meditations and to ascnbe their brevity to silence and solj tude, twO readily recognizable hallmarks of a contemplative individual. I lere, it is vital to recognize that the term meditation carries none of the religious or mystical con notations found 114 FoClls on Literalltr in the popular press or in discussions of New Age philosophy. In this context, meditation means to muse over, contemplate, or reflect upon; (0 consider, study. or ponder. Aichinger's poems are meant to be meditations for individual study and perhaps also for individual edifi­ cation. They genernlly are not to be understood as a call to action or as descriptions of what is or wbat should be, but rather are challenges to the individual reader to ponder tlte facts and come to terms within him- or herself with what has happened ill this century and what is possible when whole societies act without the restraint lhal is called forth by the act of contemplative meditation. They are expressions of the si lence th at accompanies thoughLfulness, not a retreat into the si­ lence of muteness. The poems are best understood as the impulse to meditate; they are meant 3S a focal point from which to begin. Certain critics, such 3S Dagmar C. G. Lorenz, have suggested that Aichinger's silence and the difficulty of her imagery make it impera­ tive that the reader be well acqu3intcd with the history of National Socialism, ei the r personalty or professionally. Lorenz wrote that Aichin ger's own horrifying expe rience during the war can be seen as the impulse (AnsloG) for her particular world view, and she added that it would be extremely difficult to approach her poems without a thorough understanding of life in Austria during the German occupa­ tion (44). The reader must indeed have some idea of what happened during the war in order to approach Aichinger's poetry fruitfully, as Lorenz has suggested. The poet's recurring themes of the role of the other, the danger of mass action wilhout individual contemplation, the fear of persecution, and a general mistrust of society obviously are in response to World War 11 and especially to the H olocaust. It also is useful to have some understanding of Aichinger's personal history, especially tbat her mother was Jewish and her father waS not, a situa­ tion t hat allowed Aichinger as a half-Jew to save her mother during the transponation of the Jews to death camps, but did not allow her [0 save her grandmolher, who was deponed in 1942. In addition to her comments about the importance of hiStorical context, Loren7 also suggested that some of lIle rhetorical figures in Aichinger's work are so dark that Lhey become surrealistic and per­ haps even halluci natory (44). She cited the work of H . H . Price, who in his work ApP(Hiliom suggested tbat "ha lluci nations do occur, not only in mental diseases, or undenhe innuence of drugs, but also occa- \'(Imter Answers In t he Poetry 01 Jlse Alcbmger sionally in normal people .... We know from other evidence that it is possible to see or hear 'something' that is not real ly there" (8). Lorenz incorpor.1ted the possibility of hallucination in her interesting Lnter­ pretation of "Wimer, gemalt" (47), one of the mOSt difficult poems in Venchmkter Rat: Winter, gcmalt Und in den weiBeo Rocken im Schnee die OSlerreicher. un UIIS OIufschOluen ulld ihre Spureo 5 im Finkenscblag finden, in den Gebirgsspitzen. Grlin dam men schon die Olbergfarbe von den Wanden, 10 die wispernden Scheunendachcr. So leicht wie heute wechsd n die Schatten nie mehr, Lorenz understood this poem to be an example of the "Ubergang aus der einen in die andere Realitat. ... Zunachst blickt der Sprecher auf eine Schneelandschaft, der sich wmrend der Komemplation eine andere Szene uberlagel1" (46). This observation, though fascinating in itself, actual l), is more descriptive of Aichinger's prose than her poetry and !lught be a good way to sum up and come to terms with the frequent comparisons th at are made between her pro~e work and Kafka's, be­ cause it provides a real insight into the dreamlike, surreal istic land­ scape and otherworldliness that are so obvious in the works of both authors. In the poetry, however. and especial ly in "Winter, gemalt," the crossing over into an oth er reality described by Lorenz does not take into account the central role of winter, as will be discussed in some detail below. Lorenz' assel1.ion that the images may represent the transition to another type of reality is a real step toward the recog­ nition that Aichinger's more common metaphors are nOl always opaque, but it does not go far enough. In Aichinger's poetry, at least, the most common rhetorical images, such as winter, are not represen­ lative o f oth er realities. In fact, it can be argued t hat many of the images that occur again and again in Aichinger's poetry are clearly 116 Focus on Literall" understandable and able to be decoded in virtually C\'cry com-ext. As early 3$ 1969, J. C. AlJdridge had identified three main groups of meraphors in Aichinger's ",ork. He called them images and delin­ eated them as follows: (J) dIe color green, (2) the frequem use of lakes, water, ships or boats, and students of marine engineering, and (3) dIe frequent appearance of fairy tale figures such as dwarfs, mi lkmaids, and shepherds (26). These are the images that recur frequently in lhe short prose works and dialogues by Aichinger, but a simi lar lin of metaphors could be wrinen for the poems in Verschenkter Ral. That list would include grass, woods, WOl l er, mountains, wild animals, es­ pecial ly birds and small mammals, and, most important, winter. All of these groups of metaphors can un lock meaning in the poetry, and all are used time and agai n to call forth the same or simi lar reactions in the reader. And even t hough it cannot be argued that the images al­ ways mean exactly the same thing-Aiclunger's poetry is too pro­ found to make such a statement-I believe that a general understand­ Lng of them would make the poetry accessible to a much wider audi­ ence than has been thought. The most easily understandable of the recurring metaphors observed in Venchenkrer Rat is winter and its physical manj[esta­ tions, snow and ice. A reference to winter can be found in 21 of the 92 poems in the 1991 expanded edition of Verschenkrer Rat. That is an extraordinarily large frequency, especially given that almost all of the 92 poems contain fewer than 100 words. It seems obvious that winter must have some sort of special significance for the poet. In wh,u fo llows, 1 will t ry to establ ish a common thread of meaning for images of winter in four of the poems in: "''{Tinter, gemalt," "Winterantwort," "Spaziergang," and "Baumzeichnen." In each of these poems and in many others in the collection, winter is a natu­ ral period fo r contemplation, and it stands as a metaphor fo r the si­ lence of individua l human meditation. It is not a peaceful silence, for it often is accompanied by death, but neither is it the silence of resig­ nation or hopelessness. For even during the coldest days of winter, when ice and snow cover everything and Li fe seemingly has been ex­ tinguished, nature is preparing itself for the rebirth and activity t hat spring brings. That may seem scant comfort during the cold misery of wimer, "eine Hilfe, aber keine H il fe," as Aichinger wrote in "BaUlll­ z.eichnen," but it is at least something to sustain oneself. Wmter Answers JO the l~oetry 01 lise I\lchmger III At first sight it is tempting to equate winter, together with snow and ice, with suffering, alienation or death, since these are the traru­ tioll:ll associations the word calls forth. In fact, winter generally has been used as a metaphor for suffering in German poetry at least since the Middle Ages. In Aichinger's poetry, however, the meaning of wimer is not always so readily available to the reader. In "Winter, gemalt," the short poem cited by Lorenz as an example of the poet's description of or hallucination aboUl two realities, winter cannot be seen as an expression of suffering. The general tone of the poem is sober, but it is much more contemplative than anxious, frightened, or sorrowful. The Austrians (die Osterreicber), who are the object of the poet's musings, are to be found in white skirts, in the mow Oine 1). Let us fi nd traces of them, the poet writes, ill the rwiuering of the finches Oine 5) and in the mountain peaks Oine 6). The greenish color of the Mount of O li ves, which the speaker evokes during her thoughts, also contains traces of the Austrians Oine 8), and the roofs of the barns echo their whispers Ojne 10). The speaker seems to be reminding her­ self of the necessity of meditation as thoughtful, silent contemplation when she notes that these shadows will never change so readily again Oine 12). Individuals, in the guise of the narrator of the poem, need to reflect on their societies in soljtude and silence; they need to grasp the moment to think about the AuStrians while that moment is still avail­ able. Winter itself allows the speaker to make observations. Winter snow makes the Austrians visible in the mountains and heard on the roofs of bams; its silence alone is what allows the speaker to meditate. In fact, it is possible to conclude that winter represents the act of thoughtful meditation in this poem, since all observations are made under its auspices. As Lorenz pointed out , the self is alienated from lhe object of con templation (the Austrians) in "Winter, gemait," but it is simply observing, not suffering, and certain ly is not judging, as Lorenz sug­ gested {23 1}. Rarely in Aichinger's poetry is the speaker hersel f ex­ empt from suspicion; the poet does not allow her readers to become smug or sel f-assured in their thoughtfulness. There seldom exists a privileged position for the one who medjtates-the one who thinks­ in Aichinger's poems, and it is that fact that sometimes generates dis­ comfort in those who read them. This fealUre of Aichinger's poetry is most obvious in "Schnceleute" (82), where the speaker clearly is guilty of preconceived nOtions about Olhers whom she does not understand: 110 5 10 rUtlfl un LHt!'UUIf Schnttleute feh mische mich niehl leicht unter die Fremden aus Schnee mLt Kohlen, Riiben, Iiolzern. ich ri..ihre sit nichl an, so\;mg sic: helter prangen, manche mit mehr Gesichtem als mit einem Wenn dan" die Kohlen und die Ruben fa llen, Knopfe, Knopneisten, die roun Llp~nbinder, $eh ich es steil mit an und ohoe Laul. Ich tile niehl l,U Bilfe. 15 Vidleicht sprechen sie das Mailindische schoner a1s ich, es soil nlcht aM Licht kommen. Vnd dnurn Stille, 20 bis dieses Licht sic: leicht genommen hat mit aJlem, was 5ich cb. u,' ischen mailandisch und mailandisch verbirg!, 25 dann :luch mil mir Here the narrator is committing an error, a common and serious one. She will have nothing to do with the others because she does nOt undemand them; she wi llnol associate herself with them because an associatio n might reveal their superiority in some unimportant way. This is the :.l li enation among and between peoples that so easil y leads to tragedy. a fact illustrated in the last few lines of the poem. The light that consumes the people of snow also COllSumes that which stands between them and the speaker, and finally consumes the speaker hcrseJr. ThOll the others are made of snow in this poem could mean they represent those who have learned ,he value o f thoughtful meditation, and this could be the reason the speaker is afraid of them. They dis­ play the peace and seren ity that sometimes are apparent in in lrospec- WInter Answers Ul tile '''oetry Clllse AIChtnger tive, contented people, wd the speaker, who does not share their se­ curity, does nOt trust them. In this case, however, it is more likely that snow is used to call attention to out ward differences among people, such as skin color or other physical features. Snow here probably does not mean meditation as contemplation, but is rather a symbol for the obvious physical differences that can divide humanity. In any case, it is obvious that the speaker here is the one who is in error. In only a few poems in Vencbenkter Rnt does the narrator obvi­ ously exempt herself from scrutiny. One of the most Striking examples is "Meiner GroBmutter" (63), a poem referring to the events leading to the arrest of people suspected of being Jewish or of foreign blood: Meiner GroBmutter Die Doppehiiren, in den Modenapark, die Frage naeh dem Ursprung, 5 naeh den Rel igionen, die Salesjanderg~se, die Frau Major Schultz, die Exeellenz Z",·jtkowiLSCh. cbs Erschrecken, to die Demut, die Abhangigkeit. d;u Friulein Belmont. dllt Zuflueht, der fremde Flur, IS das Tor, das aufspringt, der toile Ilund. erscllrick niellt, er 1St weiB, 20 nceh klein und lauft vorbei. In "Meiner GroBmulter," the agents of the state are compared lO a mad dog, who attliis Sla&e of the persecutIon of the Jews is white, still small , and runs on past. The mad dog is not 3 dire<:t threat to the speaker in this poem yet, because it nll1S on by her, but it certain ly is l VUe) VI. ,,-UI:IIH ... recognized as a threat from the outside. There is no indication that danger or mistrust exists within the speaker herself. Usually, howe\'(~r, Aichinger trusts no one, nOt even berself, and her work is full of reminders that the mdividual must take care and resist the temptation to exempt him- or herseU from criticism. The advice to trust 110 one, not even yourseir, is made explicit in Aichillger's 1946 speech entitled "Aufruf zum MiRtrauen,n where she said, "Sie sollen Ihrem Bruder miBtt4uen, nicbt Amerika, nicht RuRland, und nicht GOlt. Sic" ~c1hst mii$~n Su~ mif/tratten! Ja? HOlben Sie richtig ver­ standen? Uns selbst l1lussen wir miRtrauen" (Moser 16). In "Winter, gemah," the speaker is separated from the Austrians, either by the wimer (meditation as contemplation) or by the fact that they are only renected in the landscape, but she is no more mistrustful of them than she is of herself. The hest and perhaps on ly answer to this lack of trust in oneself and the outside world seems to be the practice of medita­ tion as contemplation. Thought for Aichinger is the best and perhaps the only bulwark against error. "Winterantwort" (14), perhaps the best-known of Aichinger's po­ ems, also is the c1e:arest example in Vn-sclJenkttr Rat of the poet's be­ lief in the need for meditation as individu:t! contemplation: Wintenmtwort Di~ Wdl in :lUS d~m Stoff, d~r 8etr:achtung \i~rlangt: k~ine Aug~n mehr, urn di~ w~iRen Wiesen 1U ~h~n, 5 kein~ Ohren, urn im Geist d:as Schwil r~n d~r Vogel zu hijr~n. Gronmun~r, 9.10 sind d~in~ Lip~n hint urn die G~r 7U schmecken, uod w~r riecht uns den Ilimmellou End~, 10 wess~n W.mgen r~jben sich heute noch wund an d~n Mauern im Dorf? lst es nicht ein finst~r~r Wald, in d~n wir geri~t~n? Nein. GroRmutt~r, ~r ist I1Icht finst~r, 15 ieh w~i6 t"i, ich wohnt~ lang ~i d~n Kinckrn am Rand~. und ~ 1st :lUeh k~in Waldo .. " ...... L.LU" ... ., ... ~ .... , v.:. .. J V' ";)C ~'''JlU'~C' The title of this poem in effect says all that needs to be saJd about the role of wimer here, since "wimer" and "answer" are presemed as a compound noun, almost :as though they were synonyms, or at the very least as though they were complementary_ In case any doubt remains, however, the first twO lines should di§pei it, since the poet says the world is composed of a substance that calls for consideration. Contemplation, which takes place during the winter. can unlock mean­ ing from events whjch seem mexplicable, but It is at best a weak re­ source, as the rest of the poem makes clear. In "Winteramwort, n there are no eyes to observe the white mead­ ows Oines 3 and 4), and there are no ears to appreciate the OUltering of the birds in the branches Oines 5 and 6). There is no one left whose senses we can trust, and it could even be said that the senses are nOt to be trusted at all, for they can IUlslead. Aichmger cominues the refer­ ence to the senses and shows how easily they can deceive in the next three lines, where only the lost grandmother can taste the grasses, and heaven becomes an image that can be smelled rather than seen. T:ute is not a sense that usually is associated with grass, at l('ast nOt where human beings are concerned, so this image aire:ad)' hints that we should beware of th:lIl which is apprehendro by w:ar of our senses. The m..is~ trust becomes complete in the last image, where synesthesia, or mix~ ing of the senses, is used to describe the heavens. The introduction of synesthesia, a poetic technique that heralds b:ack to the Romantics, is a clear sign lh:at the speaker does nOt truSt her senses to pro\'ide her with a re:t!istic :lSses<:ment of what e.".is;.s. Those who could It;)\"(' giwlI the answer to these inquiries, such as the grandmother Oine 7) and those whose cheeks could have been rubbed raw on the village walls today Oines 10 and t t) are gone. The speaker in "\X/interantwort" does provide some hope at the end of the poem, since she recogn izes it iii not a gloomy forcst Oine 12) that we have happened upon; in fact, she recognizes that it is not even a rorest at all Oine 17). She is able to appreciate these things be­ cause she has lived a long lime with the chi ldren at lhe fringes Oine 16). This could be a reference to Aichinger's belief that a persOIl should never adapt to any circumstance but should :always remain on the outside. It is in this regard th:at Aichinger IS most radic:t!. for she:t!­ ways has maintained that it is a mistake to be on the inside at any level of society. In a 1980 discussion with Ilermann \finke, Aichinger ex- tOCIIS on LHeralltr pressed herself clea rl y on this point when she said: "(Die Jugend soU] sieh niehl anpass('o lassen. Die kJeinen Tdiume vergessen, damit die grofien nicin vergessen werden. Sich noch weniger denn je anpassen lassen an diese Welt, die sie immer deuliicher zur Verzweiflung treibt, gerade die Jugend" (Moser 35). In order to identify bener with the other, one must remain outside the mainstream, and the best way to remain on the outside is to accept the answer offered by winter and learn to ponder or to meditate. Ln "Winteranl won," those who were 011 the outside have disappeared, and those of us who remain are faced with the onerOliS task of pUlling ourselves in their place. It is an ex­ treme action, and one that requires an enormous amount of courage. "Spaziergang" (33), another of the poems in the Verscbe"k'er Rat collection th:n .1Iustrates the importance of meditation as contempla­ tion, is difficult to understand on the surface: Spaz.itrgang DOl die Welt aus Entfernungen entsteht, T reppenhauser und Moore. und das Ertriigliche sich verdadHig macht, so laBt es nicht 7.U, 5 daB hinter euren Stallen die Elstern kun. 2uffliegen und glanzend in die glanundtn Weiher sturzen, daB euer Rauch noch steigt "or den Wiildern, 10 lieber wollen wir warlen, bis uns die goldenen Fuchse illl Schnee erscheinen. Unlike "Winterantwort," the key to understanding this poem does not lie in the title, but is found rather in the last two lines. Here again, winter is a solution to the inexplicable, butlhis lime the best that can be hoped for is really only a myth. Winter, again understood to be meditation as contemplation, is the backdrop for the appearance of the golden foxes (line 11), those elusi,'e, unattainable keys to under· standing, or ~a1vation, or whatever wonhy goal the reader cares to Insert. In "Spaziergang," the world originates from alienation Qine I), Winter Answers In the lJoetry 01 Use Alchmger llJ and that which is bearable makes itself wort hy of suspicion Qine 3). Here again is the warning that we should not trust anything or any­ one, nOl even ourselves. Since we must come to grips with that sad state of affairs, the narrator suggests in effCCtlhat we do nOt allow it to overcome us, that we develop a son of "keep on in <:pit£' of" atti tude about our plight, and even suggests that we do not admit it. What follows this advice ("so laBt es nieht zu" line 4) are tWO of the most difficult images in all of Aichinger's poetry. In the first image, she paints a word picture of magpies taking off behind the stal ls, flying only briefly, and then falling into the gl ittering ponds Qines 5-7). Two of Aichinger's recurring images, birds and water, are included in the description, which makes them somewhat more famili ar to the reader who has read much of her poetry, but does little in the W2y of estab­ lish ing exactly what they mean. This scene is presented as one of the facts to which we should not admit, and it is best understood as a warning not to allow those in power to know we are aware of trag­ edy, even so small a tragedy as the one described here. Or, it could mean that we, the readers, have made attempts to right that which is terribly wrong with our society, like the members of the White Rose in Munich in 1943, but thatlhose efforts were met wit h defeat almost before they gOt off the ground. The second image which follows the speaker's advice to admit nothing is even more puzzling. Here, we are warned not to let on that our smoke still rises in front of the woods Qines 8 and 9). Perhaps this is a call to disappear from society com­ pletely, to become invisible to those who have the power to do harm. The difficulty of these lwO images notw ithstanding, the core mes­ sage o f "Spaziergang" still seems to be the hope that things can be set at least partially righllhrough individual meditation. The poem actu­ ally is less frighten ing than "Winterantwon," because it does not indi­ cate that th e o nly olles who were capable of meditation as contempla­ tion are lost. It does demand that the reader display courage, but it is not the same extreme courage that is called for by "Winterantworl." Though the images are stark and somber, the overall message is hope­ ful. In the words of Elisabeth Endres, "So verschriinkt sich das poctische Bild denn doch zur Hoffnung, der I loffnung auf das irreale Gluck: golden Fuchse" (Moser 96). "Baumzeichnen" (32) also includes the advice to stay strong and self-awa.·e in the face of unspeakable difficulty: BaurnzeichnC'n fiir Eva, PIA, FloriAn, jllllAn Imd Mamlel AIcher Hier, jctzt nehmt diese Zweige und gebt Ihnen recht, bemah sie, lafh sie hangen, 5 sp:mnt sie aus, laGt aueh Mause daf'lln und was eueh noeh zukommt: ruhige und ziltrige Hande, Daehse und Sprossen 10 und dIe Bitten Cur die Schwermutigen eurer Bruder und Schwestern, weiBe und rate Nadeln, alles so wie es ist und so wie es nicht 1st, 15 Schnee und Sch lemmkreide, eine I lilfe, aber keine I lilfe, kein TIOSI, aber ein Trost. This poem is dedicated to the children of lnge Aicher·Scholl, sister o f Ha ns and Sophie Scholl . Hans and Sophie Scholl were members o f the Wbite Rose student resistance movement in Munich who were sentenced to death by the H itler regime in 1943. Members oC the White Rose, and especially Hans and Sophie Scholl, had a tremendous influ· ence on Aichinger. In the 1980 discussion with Hennann Vinke, the same one in which she warned young people nOt to allow themselves to fit imo society, Aichinger recalled the day she read of the death sentence for the members of the White Rose: Don las ich Z.UIlI ersten mal die Namen der WeiBen Rose. lch kannte keinen dieser Namen. Aber ich weill, daB von ihnen eine unuberbietbare I loffnung auC mieh iiberspf'llng. Diese Hoffnung hatte, obwohl sie es uns moglieh maehle, in dieser Zeit weilerzulehen, doeh niehu mit der Hoffnung au f Oberleben zu tun. (Moser 30) Aichinger WaS herself a member of a student underground group at that time, and she described the news of the death $Clllence of the _ ....... . . .. . _ • • _ •• -- "J _ .... . '-"'-·0'· White Rose membership as a validation of her actioll, even though she was quite sure she would be arrested and sentenced to death also. Somehow, it allowed her to continue to live with the horror around her. The decision to continue living is real ly the theme of "Baum· zeichnen." And again the goal is best accomplished by way of medita· lion as contemplation (line 15), presented as winter snow. Even so, there are significant differences between the way wLllter is presented in t h is poem and t he way it is presented in "\'qinter, gemalt," U\VinteranlWOrt," and U$paziergang." "Baumzeichnen" represents the speaker at her most distressed, and most determined, because snow, the relative peace that comes with the silence of meditation as contem· plation, is paired with and hence becomes no more than a wh itening agent (line 15). It has become someth ing which colors over and reo moves that wh ich we do not want to observe. Clearly, snow does not bring the comfort that is present in the other three poems. Aichinger is warning her readers not to withdraw too Car into a contemplative state, for fear that it could deaden the desire to change what is horri· bly wrong. In this way, it directly honors t he actions of the members of t he \'\lhite Rose, whose fruitless striving to change lbe situation in Germany cost them their lives. The last two lines present snow as that which is Ueine l-liife, aber keine Hiife, / ketn Trost, aber ein Trost." Because it ends up being a comfort (ein Trost), the call to meditation wi ns out after all, but it is by the narrowest of margins. Many difficult metaphors areconta1ned in "Baumz.eichnen," which wi th 71 words already is one of the longer poems in lI'erschenkler Rat. The speaker tells the survivors oC the Scholls and all oth~rs who read the poem to take these twigs, validate them, hang them up, paint them, and spread them out so that mice, badgers, sprouts and other things, such as peaceful and trembling hands, may approach. This could be a cal l to every reader to provide shelter for those who are in danger, especially since the next two ljnes (10 and 11) contain a plea for those who are melancholy, your (read "'our") brothers and sisters. Line 12 contains the most difficult image. It presents white and red needles, but it is unclear whether these needles are to be understood as our brothers and sisters, or whether they have a relationship [0 the next two lines, which say that everyth ing is as it is, and everything is as it is not Oines 13 and 14). The clearest reading would appear to be that the white need les (perhaps the members of the White Rose) are our broth· ers and sisters who show everything as it is, while the red needles, our brothers and sisters who fai l to make even a fruitless gesture against injustice, show everything as it is not. "Baumzeichnen" is in any event on ly a lukewarm recommenda­ tion to find solace in the stillness of thought ful medit:ation, and it comes closest to saying that any action against injustice, even one that is sll re to result ill the loss of one's own life, is preferable to no action at all. The meaning of wimer snow, while still hopeful, has moved closer to its traditional allusions to alienation, death, and suHering. There are some poems in Vmchenkter Rat where winter cannot be seen as a call to meditation as contemplation at all. I.n "Schneeleute," as we have seen, winter snow is used to lUustrate physical differences among races or nationalities. Another example is "Mein Vater" (25): Mein Vater Er saB auf der Bank, als ich kam. Der Schnee stieg vorn Weg auf. Er fragte mich nach Laudons Grab. 2ber ich wuBte es nicht. Snow in this poem must mean alienation between the speaker and the father; there is no reason to bel ieve it has anything to do with medita­ tion as contemplation. In fact, all the images in this poem underscore the total lack of communication bel ween father and child and the realization mat tlle emotional distance between them cannot be b ridged. The f..ther is responsible for the alienation between them, perhaps because the poem is written from the point of view of the chjld, and he is sitting Oil a bench, out of emo tional reach of the child. The snow ni es away from ~he path as the child approaches him, perhaps a rep re­ sentation of their mutual desire to nee from one another rather than to attempt a conversation. And fina lly the father, in his discomfort and confusion, can tlunk of nothing better to say than to ask t he child a meaningless question about the whereabouts of the grave o f a long­ dead A ustrian nobleman. In "Mein Vater," silence and snow in any event have nothing to do with thougillful meditation. Aichinger probably would say that this is not the silence of muteness, either, but is rather the quiet which falls between two people who simply can find no common ground ..• . • __ •• ~,_ "~,"",, ~ ....... v ...... J u, u ..... ,U""U"[,CI 11..' upon which to begin communicating. It is a sad image, one that can­ nOl be made more bearable by contemplation or meditation. "Mein Vater" was wrinen in 1959, the same year that A.ichinger wrote "\'(lin_ ter, gemah," the poem in Vt>TSchenkter Rat that seems to come the closest lo saying that meditation as individual contempl-auon can bridge any difference or overcome any difficulty. The poet may have been unaware that she was using wimer, snow, and ice in both traditional and non-traditional ways at almost the same time. Winter as alien­ ation is the sadness of being silent, wh ile wimer as thoughtful medita­ tion is the hope that silence ca.n oHer. As with all good writing, an image can have many meanings, and it is the assignment of the reader to differentiate from among the possibilities. The task is difficult in Aichinger's work because of her silence, the silence of few words, which translates into a lack of contexl. h should not be argued that her images can not be decoded, however. It is Aichinger's stillness that makes her work hard to fathom. not the difficulty of her imagery. University 0/ Arizona Works Cited Aichinger, Use. Vt'Tlchenkt~ Rat. 2nd ed. Frankfun: Fischer, 1991. Alldridge, J. C.llse Alchmg". London: Wolff, 1969. Gadamer. Ilans Georg. ·Verstummen die Dichter?~ Gedichl Imd Gespriich. Frnnkfurt: Insel, 1990. 123-137. Lorenz, Dagmar C. G. list A ,chmg". Konigstein (Ts.): Athenaum, 1981. Moser, Samuel, ed. list A Ichmger: Mat~/a"tn zu Leben lind Wtrk. Frankfurt: Fischer, 1990. Price, 11. 1-1. Appanllons. Ed. G. N. M. Tyrell. New York: Longmans. 1923.