AYear after year the same worries, every year everything at the last minute, “two hours before Christmas tree” and still no idea what to give now. Anatol, the protagonist from Arthur Schnitzler’s work of the same name, also knows this pain. After all, he is lucky enough to bump into Gabriele, who lets him carry her packages. That already sweetens the tedious purchase of gifts for him, because if he is only allowed to be amiable once, “that feels so good”.
This second scene, the “Christmas Shopping”, is perhaps the best of the seven that Schnitzler (1862 to 1931) combined in one fell swoop into a cycle in his first work of 1893. “Anatol” essentially contains everything that makes up Schnitzler’s main dramatic work “Reigen”, but it should by no means be dismissed as a preliminary study. Oh no, the play has its own charm and wit, its own depth. Schnitzler admirably takes aim at the non-binding nature of “eternal love”, but uses the witty exchange of words to very finely – and also very melancholy – capture the ever faster hunt for new stimuli. Hugo von Hofmannsthal formulated the concept as a motto in the preceding poem, which was still drawn with Loris: “So we play theatre, / Play our own plays, / Premature and tender and sad, / The comedy of our soul.”
A modern look at the ancient text
Formally, Schnitzler pays tribute to stimulus addiction through the sequence of scenes, the round dance, and presents polished dialogues. The Germanist Richard Alewyn once described Schnitzler as a “master of conversation”. That’s why “Anatol” can also be enjoyed by those who don’t usually like to read plays. The accent is entirely on the amusing verbal arguments, there is basically no plot, so the transition to novels with a high proportion of conversation is fluid.
Anatol appears in all scenes, his friend Max in five, and again in all of them a woman who keeps changing. Topics are the two arch-enemies of charm: fidelity and health. When Anatol complains in “Agonie” about being “weary with the fear of dying” and Max advises him to show himself strong and healthy, Anatol naturally rejects it. Such a life would be far too boring for him: “There are so many diseases and only one health –! . . . You always have to be just as healthy as the others – but you can be ill in a completely different way than everyone else!”
It’s not much different when it comes to loyalty, which Schnitzler doesn’t share with either sex. Marriage is at most and “understandably – out of opposition”. The “abandoned innocence” is a thing of the past, but the cuckolded man’s vanity is still hurt. Schnitzler’s lines are often enough reminiscent of today’s discussions and sensitivities. This also works so wonderfully because he opens up the space for it through his irony.
The images accompanying the text are also hybrid creatures, a little abstract, a little figurative. The figures lack faces, which means that they cannot be interpreted as individuals but as types. The colored illustrations are slightly more convincing than the drawings executed in flat black. Samuel Fischer, basically Schnitzler’s first publisher, brought out early “Anatol” editions with a rococo-influenced cover design. In contrast to this, the accompanying images that adorn Faber & Faber’s “Graphic Book” show how excellently the old text can be interpreted with a modern perspective without having to paint over it.
Last but not least: “Anatol” contains the best resolution for the new year. Instead of ending an argument with an offended silence, instead of canceling or ghosting, answer once with elegant mockery: “You have such summary contempt for everything that is not your circle!”
Arthur Schnitzler: “Anatole”. one-act cycle. With colored drawings and two original screen prints by Thomas M. Müller. Faber & Faber, Leipzig 2022. 120 pages, hardcover, €80.