Vergnügungen

Der erste Blick aus dem Fenster am Morgen
Das wiedergefundene Buch
Begeisterte Gesichter
Schnee, der Wechsel der Jahreszeiten
Die Zeitung
Der Hund
Die Dialektik
Duschen, Schwimmen
Alte Musik
Bequeme Schuhe
Begreifen
Neue Musik
Schreiben, Pflanzen
Reisen
Singen
Freundlich sein

Pleasures

First look from morning’s window
The rediscovered book
Fascinated faces
Snow, the change of the seasons
The newspaper
The dog
Dialectics
Showering, swimming
Old music
Comfortable shoes
Comprehension
New music
Writing, planting
Traveling
Singing
Being friendly

Bertolt Brecht

I first read Bertolt Brecht in secondary school German classes. Brecht, along with Herman Hesse, was among 20^th-century German writers we were introduced to after all the grammar and conversational frameworks, most obviously for their accessibility of language. I read Mutter Courage and Siddhartha before I lost my virginity, and I think getting to know Brecht and Hesse had a more long-lasting effect. I am thinking now about our early teen selves, with our bewildering sense(s) of pleasure, how we have no idea of what we want, let alone what things really mean. Whatever I learned about sex back then was fleeting – but I did hold onto Brecht, Hesse and others; poetry and language burned deep. I grew up in the Cold War; what we read helped define our place in the bigger (and scarier) world. Brecht’s fight against fascism and capitalism lived in every cell of his being – his purpose and focus was partly what led me to Germany for my own purpose, and eventual focus.

This poem was written 1956, soon after Brecht’s return to Germany (East Germany), following a long period in Southern California after he fled Berlin in early 1933. It’s a late poem, and it may not appear typical of earlier Brecht, but it contains his complete worldview: intellectual curiosity, compassion, rigour, appreciation for complexity and, above all, intense interest in humanity.

The title suggests something light – frivolous, even, if you only skim. I’ve come across blog posts that take this poem as one of those calm-myself/inhale/exhale/meditate exercises, like a fast-app to happiness. And sure, there’s no harm in that. But look at the list again: every sense is engaged. Brecht is telling us: Be on alert. Think. Be good. Living is a whole-body experience, yes, but the poem demands more. Besides comfortable things, there are challenges. There’s the past and the present. And there in the middle: Begreifen / comprehension. Grounded in the everyday, Brecht constantly reinforced how the struggle was necessary. (How often do you see a poem about pleasure include the dialectic?) Comprehension was not lofty; it was work. Everything – even pleasure – was politics.

For me, ‘Vergnügungen’ is not an advice column for peaceful living, but a call to action. It cannot be understood without the echoes of chaos of Brecht’s world, the urgency of the times. At its heart is the question of how to live well despite growing forces against humanity (whether Nazi Germany or the rabid fearmongering of the McCarthy era). Every line is about living consciously, about being conscientious. It is far from passive. It opens with a simple notion of what’s just outside the window, but by the time we get to ‘Freundlich sein’ we recognise it’s harder than it looks.

We know this is harder than it looks.

I share below another Brecht poem, this one a lyrical poem written in 1935. I don’t have to say why I’m sharing it. Sharing is the easy part. Let’s keep doing that – and more.

When evil-doing comes like falling rain

Like one who brings an important letter to the counter after office hours: the counter is already closed.

Like one who seeks to warn the city of an impending flood, but speaks another language.  They do not understand him.

Like a beggar who knocks for the fifth time at the door where he has four times been given something: the fifth time he is hungry.

Like one whose blood flows from a wound and who awaits the doctor: his blood goes on flowing.

So do we come forward and report that evil has been done us.

The first time it was reported that our friends were being butchered there was a cry of horror. Then a hundred were butchered. But when a thousand were butchered and there was no end to the butchery, a blanket of silence spread.

When evil-doing comes like falling rain, nobody calls out ‘stop!’

When crimes begin to pile up they become invisible. When sufferings become unendurable the cries are no longer heard. The cries, too, fall like rain in summer.

Bertolt Brecht

Michelle Elvy is a writer, editor and creative writing teacher in Ōtepoti Dunedin. She grew up on the shores of the Chesapeake and arrived in 2008 in Aotearoa aboard her sailboat, her home for twenty years. In the years between the calm Chesapeake waters and open-ocean living, she was a German historian. michelleelvy.com