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Page 6 The Southern Israelite The Skeptic of Vienna Arthur Schnitzler, in His Seventieth Year, Smiles But Makes Us Cr\ By REUBEN BRAININ Arthur Schnitzler's entry into his seventieth year is being celebrated throughout the literary ivorld. His works, ranging from “Anatol to Casanova s Homecoming , are hailed as masterpieces of contemporary literature, stamping him as one of the foremost story-tellers of our time. Reuben Brainin. dean of Hebrew literature and personal friend of Arthur Schnitzler, here gives an appreciation of the Austrian Jewish author as he under stands him—as a man, a writer, and a Jew. At the beginning of the twentieth century Arthur Schnitzler’s most famous writings were his “Anatol”, “Liebelei”, “Sterben”, “Lieutenant (Just I". A light sort of writing, in form and in content. Dialogues: be tween people of elegant manners and well-manicured ideas; between grace ful and polite sentimentalists; be tween people disappointed in love, but still hunting for the supreme thrill; between intellectual esthetes unfit for the hardships of life, with too- soft hands and backbones; between women who avidly seek the perfect lover ami try to escape the everyday drabness of their prosaic existence. And above the tribulations and often petty tragedies of Schnitzler*s pup pets there always hung the cloud of inevitable death, which whipped them into life and yet, at the same time, paralyzed them. The thought of the end, which made them realize the futility of love, yet drove them on to find that elusive something which might cheat the Grim Reaper of his victim. This is the essence of Schnitzler *s first literary decade. But to that should be added a fine, skeptical, often ironic smile, the smile of Arthur Schnitzler—who, in stead of pitying his contemporaries just looks at them sadly as they struggle against their fate. A smile that makes us weep. I still remember my surprise when I met Arthur Schnitzler for the first time at Vienna, in September, 1903. I had expected to find a snob, an elegant idler, a middle-aged “Ana- tol". His reputation—conceptions of authors by readers are mostly mis leading—was that of a polished, brilliant ami rather superficial lit terateur in his personal life. But the Schnitzler 1 met, then in his forties, impressed me much more as a scholar than as a novelist in vogue, llis medical training—Schnitzler is a graduate physician, and for some years was attached to a Vienna hos pital—had influenced him strongly. His interest in psychology was that of a man of science. When he spoke ot people and of sociological currents it was in the language of a sober ob server, a studious research worker and a pitiless prober. It had been his lot, as a physician, to handle the human species naked, without official garb, without the distinction of rank. He had found himself almost in the role of a spiritual and physical father confessor. During our conversation, on my first visit to him, we spoke primarily of the Jewish renaissance movement and the awakening of the Jewish national consciousness. He modestly assumed the role of the lis tener eager to be informed. There were moments when he struck me as pedantic, rather too serious, al most solemn. In later years, at subsequent meet ings, my first impressions were mere ly confirmed. Arthur Schnitzler the man was the very antithesis of the ARTHUR SCHNITZLER Celebrated Austrian Jewish author, whote novels are well known in this country, is being feted on his entry into his 70th year. dandy as whom the intelligentsia of Europe visualized him. It was the old trap into which readers fall so readily—that of shaping the author in accordance with the personages or heroes of his works—which was re sponsible for the distorted legend that had been created around Arthur Schnitzler the Viennese author. Schnitzler began his literary career when he was over thirty. This, per haps, explains why even his first writings are technically mature and finished and reveal the mastery of the skilled craftsman. Under the sur face of his polished style, however, the beat of a genuine creative force does pulsate. He is one of the very few German authors who combine suppleness of style with depth. Since he began writing there have been multitudes of literary schools to which even such dignified veterans as Gerhardt Hauptmann have fallen victim from time to time. Schnitzler. however, throughout the almost forty years of his career as a modern clas- >ieist has never been tempted to sac rifice beauty to clarity, has always striven to combine both. To me he appears as the true European intel lectual, in whom are blended the best of the Teutonic and of the Latin lit erary traditions. You will ask me: “But to what extent is Arthur Schnitzler a Jew? If you will forgive me—the question is rather unnecessary and petty. Jewishness cannot be measured in doses or percentages. And surely not when it comes to a personality like Arthur Schnitzler, with so distinct an outlook upon life. Born at Vienna of what we are wont to call an as similated family—his father was a distinguished physician and a profes sor at the University of Vienna— Arthur Schnitzler, although he per sonally ditl not experience any viru lent anti-Semitism, clearly recognized the anomalous position of the Aus trian Jew. He pondered on the Jew ish question long and sincerely. He gathered material laboriously. When, a year before the world war, he pub lished “Professor Bernhardi”, a play centering around a medical Dreyfus case and exposing the anti-Semitic tendencies in Vienna's medical and government circles, he stamped him self as a foe of the assimilationist movement. But the story of Profes sor Bernhardi is told with an ironic smile. Xo attempt is made to effect a reform; nor is the author inclined to let his indignation get the best of him. The last word before the cur tain goes down is characteristic of Schnitzler. Somehow it leaves you doubtful as to whether Professor Bernhardi, who was condemned to two months in jail because he forbade a priest to give absolution to a pa tient, was an idealist or merely a fool. None the less the play created a furore and showed clearly where Schnitzler stood with regard to his • ewishness. Xo more ruthless carica ture of the assimilated and converted Jew has been written than Schnitz ler s ‘Professor Bernhardi”. Thus Schnitzler is inscribed in the German literary Who’s Who as a Jewish author, although—except in ’’Professor Bernhardi” and his novel “Der Weg Ins Freie"—1 has not concerned himself with Jc tions. He was satisfied L- the Viennese, of the sentimental, romantic loves of half-ba ed girl>, of elegant officers, of di-i 'servant girls, derailed doctors. After the war, it is true, he gave us •• Cas anova’s Homecoming", a pseudfe historical novel in which lie reveal' himself at the very acme of his cre ative talent and which constitute' one of his rare excursions outside ot Vienna. One cannot even attempt to con dense so prolific an author and so genuine a personality as Schnitzler into the framework of an article. In contemporary literature Arthur Schnitzler is considered one of the great trio of which Gerhardt Haupt mann and Thomas Mann are the other members. This despite the subject- matter of his works, which, as al ready mentioned, deal with rather superficial joys of life. For the criti cal reader, however, there are alway- two stories in any Schnitzler book. One that plays in the foreground and is of apparently only local interest and skin-deep significance; but in the background, if one cares to delve deeper into Schnitzler s storie>, there is enacted the eternal human tragedy of man in search of love, in tear ot death and in a fruitless struggle to liberate himself from the material and sensual world. It is on this sec ond plane that Arthur Schnitzler re minds one of Anatole France a skep tic to whom nothing human is for eign, an observer who finds the eternal problems in the everyday life of a harlot or a soldier just as tragic as the tribulations of a statesman or an artist. As Schnitzler enters his seventieth year—a commanding figure who ha^ managed to keep himself above all the petty political gibbering oI Europe, whose creative output has always been marked by an aristocratic distinction that made it possible 1 him to say and discuss everything without ever becoming vulgar u represents the genuine artist. Then is nothing of the professional man o letters in him. Xo jealousies, no best-seller attitude to literature. ( hates, and always has hated, the ht erary charlatan who strives J"r e feet and hastens to catch the latest literary vogue or school, hoping .' means of his ability to be up-t to squeeze through the narrow - M ' of immortality. Schnitzler s boo'* may not live much longer tlu first half of the twentieth cer. 'O' but to us, his contemporaries, a vital, nay, inspiring pe and author. (Copyright 1931 by S. A.