What Happens in Spring?, Appleby Alex

The book includes lengthy extracts from the poetry of German Romanticism, with a selection of poems by Goethe, Novalis, Holderlin and Heine at the back. This new edition (the 4th) has been revised.

Illustrated. ISBN 9781861713254. 184 pages. www.crmoon.com

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This book offers an introduction to four of the great German poets of the Romantic era aimed at first-time readers of poetry, students, but also readers familiar with their work. I have concentrated on the poetry, and have included many quotes. Some of the well-known poems by the writers are featured in the second half of the book.

EXTRACT FROM THE FRIEDRICH HOLDERLIN CHAPTER

Friedrich Holderlin believed in the notion of the poet as shaman, a vates, a prophet. As he wrote in 'An die Deutschen' ('To the Germans'), 'sweet it is to divine, but an affliction too'. And he believed in his poetic world, as poets have to: 'Holderlin's world was one in which he alone believed', wrote Alessandro Pelegrini. His poetry is marked by a movement towards bliss, the ecstasy of the shaman, which Holderlin does not hide. Rather, he cultivates it scrupulously. His lyrics are pure lyrics, set in the Orphic mode, that way of making poetry that comes from Orpheus, the ancient deity of shamanic poetry.

Friedrich Holderlin's poetry, especially his early lyrics, is powerfully shamanic; it is full of shamanic imagery, as is the early poetry of Percy Bysshe Shelley or Francesco Petrarch. In Holderlin's art we find images of light, of bliss, of motion, of revelation, all shamanic/ religious motifs. Heinrich Heine's view of the poet as shaman was more political, aware of the role of the poet in societal revolutions: 'Our age is warmed by the idea of human equality, and the poets, who as high priests do homage to this divine sun, can be certain that thousands kneel down beside them, and that thousands weep and rejoice with them'.

You walk above in the light, weightless tread a soft floor, blessed genii radiant the gods' mild breezes gently play on you as the girl artist's fingers on holy strings. Fateless the Heavenly breathe like an unweaned infant asleep; chastely preserved in modest bud for ever their minds are in flower and their blissful eyes eternally tranquil glaze, eternally clear.]