Home |  Current Issue |  Links |  Conferences/Events |  Archives
About the Journal |  Submit |  Subscribe

Search Janus Head               

Alfred Baeumler on Hölderlin and the Greeks:
Reflections on the Heidegger-Baeumler Relationship
(Part IIIA)

Frank H. W. Edler
Metropolitan Community College


This essay begins the last hinge of the triptych. Part I examined Alfred Baeumler's interpretation of Hölderlin and the Greeks. Part II examined anew the political relationship between Baeumler and Heidegger in the early to mid '30s. Part III has been divided into two sections. Part IIIA, given here, investigates the importance of language, especially the relationship between the Greek and German languages, for Heidegger's involvement with National Socialism and his understanding of the revolution. Part IIIB will examine what role Hölderlin played in Heidegger's political involvement and will offer a final comparison between Baeumler and Heidegger on Hölderlin and the Greeks.

Part III A

Heidegger, Language, and Revolution

As I pointed out in Part II, language and Heidegger's use of language played an important yet hidden role in his rectoral address and I do not think it has been emphasized enough. True, language itself is not a theme in the address, but it does surface there in a crucial place, a place which is later elaborated in An Introduction to Metaphysics as the conflict or polemos between dike (the overwhelmingness of being) and techne (the violence of Dasein).1 The significance of the reference to language in the rectoral address becomes clearer only when Heidegger glosses it in An Introduction to Metaphysics: polemos is language as logos.

It is, of course, in the context of language that Hölderlin, too, becomes so significant for Heidegger in relation to the future of the German people and thus takes on a political dimension in the early '30s. What that political dimension is remains to be seen. It is interesting to note that Heidegger does not use Hölderlin's name in any of his political speeches during his tenure as rector nor does he mention Hölderlin in the course on logic in the summer of 1934 after he stepped down from that position. Apparently, Heidegger did not want to introduce Hölderlin directly into the political context. It is only in the semester following the logic course, the winter semester of 1934-35, that Heidegger introduces Hölderlin in a lecture course that deals exclusively with the poet and two of his hymns, "Germania" and "The Rhine."

This must have been something of a bombshell in 1934 and probably the butt of ridicule for the politically hardboiled who had seen Heidegger "return from Syracuse" with his tail between his legs and now laughed at what they took to be his retreat from politics into poetry.

In this section, I want to investigate the importance of language, especially the relationship between the Greek and German languages, as a context for Heidegger's understanding of the revolution and later as a context for examining the significance of Hölderlin for Heidegger. (The latter will be developed in Part III B.)

The issue, however, of the relationship of language and logic has been with Heidegger even before Being and Time. As early as 1925, in his course on Plato's Sophist, Heidegger saw the need for a retrieval of the Greek origin from which logic sprang:

Yet there does indeed exist the task of conceiving logic, once and for all [!], much more radically than the Greeks succeeded in doing and of working out thereby, in the same way, a more radical understanding of language itself and consequently also of the science of language. 2

Thus, Heidegger's concern with the origin of logic is aimed at retrieving a more radical understanding of language itself from which a more fundamental, or radical, science of language will emerge.

This concern shows up in Being and Time as well. According to Heidegger, the Greeks did not have a word for language, and they developed logic on the basis of logos as statement. Grammar found its foundation in this logic, that is, the logic of logos as statement (the logic of is-predication). Heidegger goes on to say, "But this logic is based on the ontology of objective presence" and that linguistics was developed on the basis of discourse as statement. He then refers to the task that needs to be done:

The task of freeing grammar from logic requires in advance a positive understanding of the a priori fundamental structure of discourse in general as an existential and cannot be carried out subsequently by improving and supplementing the tradition. 3

Since "discourse is in itself temporal" (Being and Time, 149), Heidegger sees the ontology of permanent and objective presence in which logic is based as blocking the attempt to retrieve a more originary experience of time from which a more original understanding of being and of language could be formulated. In Being and Time, the mode of being of language is left an open question (Being and Time, 155).

By 1931, however, Heidegger not only has a more determined direction with respect to this retrieval, but also has decided on a certain praxis in relation to that retrieval. In a letter to Egon Vietta (Vietta was in the process of writing an article on Heidegger) on June 16, 1931, Heidegger attempts to clarify his position on reason and rationality. I cited this in Part II but it bears repeating:

My struggle [Mein Kampf ] against 'logic' is not that of one who despises the concept; on the contrary -- radical conceptual penetration [Durchdringung] of precisely the most essential matters is not only required-- but can carry it a fair distance. The struggle [Der Kampf ] concerns the 'ratio' which has become groundless and which perpetuates a game of wits lacking all essentiality. It is a matter precisely of understanding in an originary way the concealed governance [verborgene Walten ] of the ancient Greek 'logos' and setting it to work [ins Werk zu setzen]. 4

The praxis Heidegger refers to is linguistic: setting the originary Greek logos as gathering to work in the German language in a prelogical manner, in a way that preserves the temporal structure of that originary gathering. The German language is particularly well suited for this because it is an inflected language.

I agree that there is a certain amount of chauvinism in Heidegger's praise of the German language in relation to the Greek, but there is an important objective claim that stands behind the praise. German as an inflected language is better suited to carry over the Greek than, for example, English is. Frank J. Nisetich in his excellent introduction to Pindar's Victory Songs makes the following observations with regard to translating Pindar:

Pindar employs both styles [parataxis and hypotaxis], and both entail special problems for the reader and the translator. In complex examples of Pindaric hypotaxis, however, the problem is more peculiarly the translator's. It was easier for Pindar to construct expansive sentences in Greek than it is for us to preserve their structure in English, mainly because Pindar's language is inflected and ours is not. A pronoun or a participle or an adjective in Pindar may occur at a great distance from the noun it modifies without creating any problem in comprehension because its gender, number, and case are marked in the way it is spelled. The paucity of such means for immediate recognition in English makes it necessary either to break Pindar's long constructions into brief units or to repeat the noun when its distant modifier appears. Except in rare instances, only repetition and punctuation are available to indicate that a single unified sentence is in progress as opposed to a group of sentences merely strung together. English syntax does not have the elasticity of Greek. The result in translation is the impression that Pindar's vast sentences hang together very loosely in dashes and colons and repeated words. The sentences seem inflated; their author gradually acquires the reputation of being out of control.5

Nisetich continues, "To notice the reoccurrence of words and images is to get a slightly different impression: where logic seems to fail, picture and music may come to our aid . . . The elusive logic of an ode becomes less elusive as we begin to experience its coherence in other ways than the strictly logical ones to which we are accustomed" (Nisetich, 72).

It is this prelogical logos imbedded in the Greek language that Heidegger wants to set to work in a renewed way in the German language in order to make the transition to the future towards which Hölderlin's poetry points.

When Heidegger crossed over into the political arena, he extended this linguistic strategy into the realm of politics. Obviously, he could not do what Hölderlin had done in his poetry or his translations of Pindar and Sophocles; that is, transliterate the Greek at times directly into the German language. Rather, Heidegger used other syntactical constructions such as paronomasia and figura etymologica.

In the 1934 course on logic whose full title is "Logic as the Question Concerning the Essence of Language" (Logik als die Frage nach dem Wesen der Sprache), Heidegger affirmed his intention to shake logic to its roots and that he had been working on this upheaval (Erschuetterung) of logic for ten years:

We are not taking a position in these questions [the traditional questions of logic] because we are not essentially concerned with this logic. Rather, we stand before the fundamental task of shaking this logic from the ground up, not capriciously or out of willfulness with the view of establishing another logic. We stand before the upheaval [Erschuetterung] of logic not as something we are undertaking in 1934 for the sake of some "coordination"-of-the-month [beliebigen "Gleichschaltung"], but rather something at which we have been working for the last ten years which is grounded in a transformation [Wandlung] of our Dasein itself, a transformation which informs the innermost necessity of our destiny [Geschickes].6

In the next paragraph, Heidegger says that the old title "logic" should be kept and that the task of shaking logic from the ground up "does not release us [entbindet ums nicht] from what is given in the tradition" (Logik, 11). Thus, the retrieval of the origin of logic "binds us to [binden an] the creative confrontation with the tradition from out of the awakening of more originary strengths" (Logik, 11).

I have given the German in the last two citations because it is an example of Heidegger's use of paronomasia. Instead of using the logical syntax of is-predication, paronomasia uses the reiteration and variations of a stem verb to hold the sentence together. The stem verb above is binden, to bind, fasten, or tie. Heidegger uses the variations entbinden (to unbind or release) and binden an (to bind or fasten to). The movement of fastening and unfastening is gathered together in the repetition of the stem verb binden ( like Heraclitus's saying: the way up and the way down are one and the same) and differentiated in the inflected variations entbinden and binden an.

Examples in English are harder to find because many of the stem verbs are Latin and no longer living. Nevertheless, here is one example: we shall produce a healthy condition in the patient only if we reduce the fever by inducing labor. The stem verb here is the Latin ducere, to lead, guide, or bring. Literally, the sentence reads as follows: we shall bring the patient toward health (future) only if we bring down the fever by bringing on labor (present). What unifies the sentence linguistically is not based on the syntax of is-predication; rather, the sentence is unified as one process in the repetition of ducere. The one motion of bringing the patient to health is articulated in three inflected variations: producere, reducere, and inducere. The one motion differentiated in itself is the following: bringing on labor brings down the fever and brings the patient towards health. The variations of the stem verb create a linguistic space, a temporal span, which has directionality and a beginning, middle, and end demarcated by the inflections.

In the rectoral address, the importance of language surfaces in relation to the question of whether science is to be an authentic way of being for the German universities. Under what condition can science truly exist? Heidegger responds by saying that

Only if we again place ourselves under the power of the beginning [Anfang] of our spiritual-historical existence. This beginning is the departure, the setting-out [Aufbruch] of Greek philosophy. Here, for the first time, Western man, by means of his language [kraft seiner Sprache] rises up from a base in popular culture [Volkstum] and rises up against the totality of what is and questions and comprehends it as the being that it is.7

As I indicated in Part II (note 12), I have modified the last sentence in the above translation by Karsten Harries. I have placed the phrase "by means of his language" closer to the beginning of the sentence so that the whole action of the rising-- the rising from (aus), the rising up (auf) and the rising against (gegen)-- occurs "by means of his language." Although this is not a true paronomasia, notice how the prepositions inflect the rising and give it direction. The rising starts somewhere: from a base in popular culture. The rising moves in a direction upward from the base, and, finally, the rising upward goes somewhere: against the totality of what is.

A word of caution here about the phrase "by means of his language" ("kraft seiner Sprache"). Language is not to be understood here simply as a tool or instrument. What Heidegger is saying is that the Greek language enabled the Greeks to be in a new way. The possibilities of that language enabled the movement of Greek Dasein to be articulated in a new way of being as science. Philosophizing is understood here as a movement of questioning and the movement of questioning is understood as a new mode of Dasein's being. Thus, not only did the Greek language have to possess the capacity for this movement of questioning, but, more important, it also had to possess the ability of gathering together linguistically what-is as a whole-- and gather it as a movement of questioning. It is this movement that Heidegger tries to capture in his language: standing or rising: up--from--against.

One of the best examples of Heidegger's use of paronomasia occurs in his 1933 summer course entitled The Basic Question of Philosophy. Victor Farias in the German edition of his work on Heidegger and Nazism presents Helene Weiss' notes on that course where the following paronomasia appears.

But such questioning is no idle meditating, no inquisitive pumping for data but rather the highest irruptive spiritual entry [höchster geistiger Einsatz]-- essential questioning. We hold our destiny out [halten . . . aus] to such questioning and hold ourselves out into [halten uns selbst hinein in] the darkness of necessity of your history. This questioning, in which a people bears [aushält] its historical Dasein, preserves [durchhältl in the midst of danger and threat and holds out for [hinaushält] the greatness of its task; this questioning of a people is its philosophizing, its philosophy.8

The paronomasia here is based on variations of the stem verb halten. The variations include halten . . . aus, halten . . . hinein, aushalten, durchhalten, and hinaushalten.

What the paronomasia enacts syntactically is the identity and difference of the hermeneutic movement of questioning in and through the relationship between the verbal variations of the stem verb and the stem verb itself. The variations emphasize their specific differences through their directional prefixes such as durch and hinaus while maintaining their identity in the stem verb halten. The paronomasia accomplishes a grammatical gathering together and setting apart at the same time. It enacts linguistically the prelogical logos of questioning as a temporally determined movement which participates in both presence and absence. Questioning holds itself out into both the absence of the past and the absence of the future. This dimension of absence (and concealment) is one which traditional logic cannot reach precisely because it is based on the ontology of permanent presence and restricts itself to an indifferent present.

In the above example, we can see clearly how Heidegger takes a word like Einsatz (which the Nazis used as a reference both to the political empowerment of the National Socialist party on the national level and to the growing domination of their racial-biological worldview) and transforms it through his use of the paronomasia. For Heidegger, Einsatz is the entry into the hermeneutic movement of questioning circumscribed by the verb halten. The movement of questioning itself becomes the essence of a people's historical existence. It cannot be reduced to the political empowerment of a party or to a worldview based on a racial-volkisch "substance." The paronomasia relocates the word Einsatz in a syntactical knot of verbs which "redefines" it apart from Nazi ideology.

Heidegger confirms the use of his linguistic strategy later in Contributions to Philosophy, where he discusses the inherent difficulty of using words in a "prerevolutionary" context; that is, in a context which is still metaphysical and ideological:

This [difficulty] conditions an approach that within certain limits must extend to ordinary understanding and must go a certain stretch of the way with it-- in order then at the right moment-- to exact a turning in thinking, but only under the power of the same word. For example, "decision" can and should at first be meant as a human "act"-- not of course in any moral sense but still in terms of enactment-- until it suddenly means the essential sway of be-ing . . . This "reverse," however, is not simply a "formal" trick to alter the meaning into mere words but rather transformation of man himself. 9

This is what Heidegger claimed all along in his political speeches. For example, in his speech of November 11, 1933, Heidegger says that "the National Socialist revolution is not simply the takeover of the existing power of the state by another party which has emerged for that purpose; rather, this revolution brings about the complete overturning [völlige Umwälzung] of our German Dasein." 10 He repeats this in his November 30 speech in Tuebingen: "This is not a revolution achieved by a power already existing in the state or by a political party. The National Socialist revolution means rather the complete overturning [völlige Umwäl-zung] of the whole of German existence which also touches the university" (Heidegger and Nazism, 142). Heidegger expected the first political revolution to continue on into a second more profound one where the reverse would happen and bring about a "transformation of man himself." This is what his linguistic strategy via a retrieval of the originary Greek logos was designed to help accomplish. And, as we shall see in Part III B, this goes hand in hand with Hölderlin's own revolutionary tendencies.

The reader may well be scratching his or her head at this point and asking herself whether Heidegger was "for real" in his use of a linguistic strategy to promote a deeper revolution via a retrieval of Greek origin of philosophy. It is difficult to understand Heidegger without the context of the twenties in Germany and, I believe, without understanding the incredible revival of classical Greek studies during this period.11

In his political speeches, I take Heidegger to be addressing the university community. His political activities as rector were occupied by and large with faculty, student groups and organizations, education camps, regional university administrators, and other rectors. But he is also addressing other intellectuals who would at least have some understanding of what he was trying to do vis-à-vis his use of language in the context of a retrieval of Greek origins. Weimar Germany produced perhaps the most incredible generation of classical Greek scholars that Germany had ever seen. To name just a few of the older generation along with the younger classical scholars: Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Hermann Diels, Felix Jacoby, Eduard Norden, Eduard Meyer, Walther Kranz, Werner Jaeger, Walter F. Otto, Karl Reinhardt, Paul Friedländer, Bruno Snell, Julius Stenzel, Hermann Fränkel, Ludwig Curtius, Wolfgang Schadewaldt, Ernst Buschor, Hans-Georg Gadamer, and Kurt Riezler. Diels died in 1922, Meyer in 1930, and Wilamowitz in 1931.

Heidegger was on friendly terms with Walter F. Otto, Karl Reinhardt, Paul Friedländer, Ludwig Curtius, Wolfgang Schadewaldt, Kurt Riezler, and Gadamer. I haven't mentioned those who were associated with the Stefan George circle that was also responsible in many ways not only for the revival in Greek studies but also for the renewal in Hölderlin's reception before and after World War I. In this group of Greek revivalists and champions of Hölderlin was a strong strain of neoconservatism coupled with a particular interpretation of German history. Ludwig Curtius is a good example of this kind of neoconservative classical scholar.

Curtius was an artist who turned to archeology and classical scholarship. He studied archeology under Adolf Furtwängler and taught at the universities of Erlangen, Freiburg, and then at Heidelberg (where he was friends with Karl Jaspers) from 1920 to 1928 when he was appointed the first director of the German Archeological Institute in Rome.12 Heidegger knew Curtius as early as 1924. Evidence of a correspondence exists in the Heidegger-Jaspers letters. For example, Jaspers sends a letter to Heidegger in May 4, 1928, which includes Curtius' address in Rome at his new position at the archeological institute.13 Apparently, Heidegger had requested Curtius' address in Rome from Jaspers.

Curtius was also close friends with Werner Jaeger and published a number of articles in Jaeger's journal Die Antike, among them two articles in 1927: the first was entitled "The Art of Antiquity and Modern Humanism" ("Die antike Kunst und der moderne Humanismus" ) and the second "Bronze Horse in the Metropolitan Museum in New York" ("Bronzenes Pferd im Metropolitan Museum in New York").14

In the first article, Curtius presents Winckelmann as the first modern German humanist, but a humanist of a particular sort. Two tendencies are combined in Winckelmann: on the one hand, the tendency toward science and modern scientific scholarship and on the other, a new passion which "seeks not simply knowledge, but life; not simply erudition, but the freedom of a new mankind" (Oppermann, 50). Both tendencies show up in Winckelmann's language which manifests both scholarly sobriety and at times the brevity and rhythm of poetic hymns: "He belongs in the proximity of Klopstock" (Oppermann, 50).

Curtius then goes on to show how the German renaissance differed from other European countries which developed organically in the 17th and 18th centuries from the Italian renaissance. In Germany, the renaissance was interrupted for a period of about two hundred years. When the German renaissance resumed, there was a marked difference: "with the others, it [the renaissance] is Roman; with us, it is Greek . . ." (Oppermann, 51). Curtius describes it as an underground source (unterirdische Quelle) whose underground current (unterirdischen Laufe) broke forth again (bricht . . . hervor) with elemental power (eine elementare Kraft ) (Oppermann, 51). Here, Curtius' description dovetails with Stefan George's notion of a "secret Germany" ("geheime Deutschland ") which Norbert von Hellingrath also championed after discovering Hölderlin's Pindar translations where Hölderlin transliterates the Pindaric Greek directly into the German language.

Curtius brings up two eminent scholars, one Italian and the other English (he doesn't name them), who have criticized this German love of the Greeks. The criticism is that it has separated Germany from other European cultures and their belief in the predominance of the Latin tradition. More specifically, the criticism is that "we by an incomprehensible willfulness surrender [hingäben] ourselves to Greek thinking and to Greek art, even to the point of almost identifying the Greek spirit with the German" (Oppermann, 51). Curtius responds to this criticism by staying in effect, "Of course!" The line of our renaissance is not French (Montaigne, Ronsard, Racine, Voltaire, Anatole France, Valery) nor English (Hobbes, Shaftesbury, John Stuart Mill and Herbert Spenser), but German: "Winckelmann, Lessing, Herder, Goethe, Hegel, Hölderlin, Jacob Burckhardt, Fr. Nietzsche" (Oppermann, 52).

What Curtius is saying, which he has already indicated in his description of Winckelmann, is that rational criticism is valued, but more as a means rather than as an end in itself. German humanism combines both science, scholarship, and research with art, poetry, and a passion for the whole: "German humanism took over the Greek world from Winckelmann as an artistic revelation just as much as it took it over as a scientific object" (Oppermann 53). We can easily see Heidegger not only being sympathetic to this interpretation but also appealing to it in his rectoral address. Nor can we forget Werner Jaeger who was trying to revive the ancient Greeks in what was called the Third Humanism. Curtius would certainly have agreed with Jaeger on that score. However, I have not taken this detour to Curtius simply to show how much the Greeks were still valorized in Germany by classical scholars and were seen as a living part of their humanistic tradition.

Curtius' second article on the Greek bronze horse at the Metropolitan Museum in New York is a stunning work which attempts to understand the process of the horse's development in Greek sculpture from the archaic to the classical period and beyond. The bronze horse, poured in one cast, was dated at about 470 or 460 B.C.E., but Curtius believes it is even later than that although it definitely belongs to the artistic period after the Persian Wars when there was a great flourishing of Attic art (Torso 61).

The bronze horse is then compared not only with its archaic forerunners, but also with its closer relatives (Curtius uses the marble horses from the Acropolis as examples). Although the marble Acropolis horses are close in time to the bronze horse, the two horses "reside in two different worlds of artistic creation" (Torso 61). There are similarities, but the horses are constructed differently like two comparable philosophical systems using the same words and addressing the same problem but never quite able to match each other completely because they are constructed differently from the start. This is what Curtius wants to get a better sense of: each horse (the bronze, the marble, the archaic) presents a differently constructed sensible concept. How are we to understand this identity and difference? The archaic form becomes the classical, but they are constructed differently.

At this point in his essay, Curtius makes a sharp detour into the Greek language for help with his problem. He characterizes the Greek language in the following way:

The Greek language in comparison with other languages possesses a particularly strong aspect of the primordial verbal element from which every language originates but which persists with the Greek in a special way and is intensified through the life of the prepositions pro, apo, kata, ana, meta, dia. In countless combinations of stem words with prepositions and in ever fresh compounds and refinements, the Greek expresses a verbal activity which is a spacial-sensuous one aiming at the spirit, an ever-changing setting-into-relation of concepts through the flexibility of the word . . . (Torso 63)

In addition to this verbal fluidity, the Greek language also possesses the ability to crystalize that movement into verbal substantives, an ability already evident in presocratic Greek philosophy. These substantives in turn become re-energized in the Greek language and begin their own animated development on another level such as in Plato's philosophy (Torso 65). It is this linguistic understanding of the movement of verbalization and the congealing of that movement into substantives that Curtius carries back to his horses.

The marble horse of the Acropolis and the bronze horse are both "verbal substantives," but they have crystallized in different ways in their construction. Here Curtius uses precisely the syntax of the paronomasia to try to understand the identity and difference of the two horses: they share a similar body shape like a paronomasia shares a stem word; they differ in their constructions like the inflected variations of the stem word. Thus, the way in which the heads of the horses may vary is like the variations of the stem word when different prepositions are added to it (Torso 64).

But isn't this precisely the prelogical logos Heidegger was setting to work from the Greek in the German language? As I said above, Curtius' essay was published in Jaeger's journal  Die Antike which was perhaps the preeminent classical journal in Germany at that time. Curtius' essay was read and discussed. However wrong-headed Heidegger may have been concerning his linguistic strategy, we can no longer say that it was so esoteric that no one understood what he was trying to say or do. In fact, Curtius' essay had six years to percolate among scholars and intellectuals before Heidegger used it in the political arena.

But it was percolating even before Curtius published his essay on the bronze horse. One of Curtius' letters to Jaeger (26 February, 1924) is preserved in the Werner Jaeger manuscript repository at the Houghton Library at Harvard. The letter written about a year before the first issue of Die Antike came out in 1925 and begins as follows:

My Dear Colleague,

Please accept my heart-felt thanks for your gracious letter. I am glad that you acknowledge the attempt of smaller works to discover the principles of structure [Formbildung] which similarly must also be found for the poetic language. That indeed is a problem which already has distressed me for years and that I would have set about engaging even in a amateurish way if we allowed our own science [archaeology], which is growing ceaselessly over its boundaries, time for it. There must indeed be a way to construct it in relation to the tragedians where, within the style of the dramatic language, the perception is transformed in the word and its rhythm.15

This is a tantalizing letter. Although the details of the issue to which Curtius was responding are unclear, there is no question that Curtius was interested in the principles of stucture of poetic language and that he thought those principles could be discovered within the style of Greek poetic drama where dramatic transformations occur. We can see how Curtius' concerns do eventually show up in his essay on the bronze horse with its analogy to the structural fluidity of the Greek language.

In the same letter, Curtius expresses his disappointment that Jaeger turned down the position at Heidelberg (Jaeger was already at the University of Berlin at the time). Curtius says that he had painted such a wonderful picture for himself: "To have you and Jaspers here, and in time perhaps even Heidegger. Now that would have been a real academic faculty."16

This brings us back to the relationship between Heidegger and Curtius. In 1927, Curtius was still in Heidelberg and already knew Heidegger as early as 1924. How close were they? Did they share a close intellectual relationship through Jaspers? Did Heidegger write to Curtius in Rome after Jaspers sent him Curtius' address? These remain open questions for the time being. What keeps playing in the back of my mind as I think of these questions is Georg Picht's statement in the book Erinnerung an Martin Heidegger that Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy in March of 1933 claimed the National Socialist revolution was the attempt on the part of the Germans to realize Hölderlin's dream (Erinnerung 199).

(to be continued. . .)


1 Martin Heidegger, An Introduction to Metaphysics,trans. Ralph Manheim (New Haven: Yale UP, 1959) 162.

2 Martin Heidegger, Plato's Sophist, trans. Richard Rojcewicz and Andre Schuwer (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana UP, 1997 ) 175.

3 Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, trans. Joan Stambaugh (Albany: SUNY P, 1996) 153.

4 Erinnerung an Martin Heidegger, ed. Guenther Neske (Pfullingen: Neske, 1977): 234-235.

5 Frank J. Nisetich, Pindar's Victory Odes. Translation, Introduction, Prefaces (Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins UP, 1980) 57.

6 Martin Heidegger, Gesamtausgabe, v. 38, Logik als die Frage nach dem Wesen der Sprache (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann, 1998) 11.

7 Martin Heidegger and National Socialism. Questions and Answers, ed. Guenther Neske and Emil Kettering (New York: Paragon, 1990) 6-7.

8 Victor Farias, Heidegger und der National-sozialismus. Mit einem Vorwort von Juergen Habermas (Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer, 1989) 191. I have given my own translation. For the English version of Farias, see Heidegger and Nazism, ed. with a Foreword, Joseph Margolis and Tom Rockmore (Philadelphia: Temple UP, 1989) 133.

9 Martin Heidegger, Contributions to Philosophy (From Enownment), trans. Parvis Emad and Kenneth Maly (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana UP, 1999) 58.

10 Guido Schneeberger, Nachlese zu Heidegger (Bern, 1962) 150.

11 See my article "Heidegger and Werner Jaeger on the Eve of 1933: A Possible Rapprochement?" in Research in Phenomenology, 27 (1997): 122-149.

12 Ludwig Curtius, Torso. Verstreute und nach-gelassene Schriften (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1957) 7-8.

13 Martin Heidegger and Karl Jaspers, Briefwechsel 1920 - 1963, ed. Walter Biemel and Hans Saner (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann; Munich and Zurich: Piper, 1990) 95.

14 Ludwig Curtius, "Die antike Kunst und der moderne Humanismus" in Die Antike, 3 (1927) 1-16. This essay can also be found in Humanismus, ed. Hans Oppermann (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1970), pp.49-65; my references are to this text. For the second essay, see Ludwig Curtius' Torso, 53-67 (see note 12 above).

15 The Werner Jaeger Papers, shelfmark AM5, by permission of the Houghton Library, Harvard University. I wish to thank the Houghton Library for giving me permission to quote parts of Curtius' letter to Jaeger of February 26, 1924. The German text is as follows:

Lieber Herr College,

Haben Sie doch gleich herzlichen Dank fuer Ihren lieben Brief. Ich freue mich, dass Sie den Versuch der kleinen Arbeit anerkennen, Prinzipien der Formbildung aufzufinden, die aehnlich auch fuer die dichterische Sprache gefunden werden muessen. Das ist in der That ein Problem das mich selber schon seit Jahren quaelt und das ich wenn auch nur dilettantisch in Angriff genommen haette, wenn wir unsere eigene unaufhoerlich ueber ihre Grenzen hinauswachsende Wissenschaft Zeit daran liesse. Es muss doch bei den Tragikern gebaut werden koennen, wo innerhalb des Stils der dramatische Sprache die Empfindung sich im Wort und seinem Rhythmus wandelt.

16 The Werner Jaeger Papers, shelfmark AM5, by permission of the Houghton Library, Harvard University. The German text is as follows: "Sie und Jaspers, vielleicht in einiger Zeit auch Heidegger hier zu haben. Das haette doch eine wirklich akademische Fakultaet geben koennen."