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New German Critique
by Bernd Witte
The supremacy of the category of totality is the
bearer of the revolutionary principle in science.
Lukacs, Rosa Luxemburg as a Marxist (1921)
Only with the recent politicization of West German society did scholars of
German literature abandon their undifferentiated notion of a single Marxist
aesthetic and, in an analysis of the Brecht-Lukics debate, 1 begin to confron
the historical controversies surrounding the theory of socialist realis
Although virtually ignored until the present, the similarly intense disp
between Benjamin and Lukacs is as important for a materialist theory
literature as is this now classical Brecht-Lukics exchange. Martin Walser
correctly stated that Benjamin and Lukacs delineate "in their unresolv
opposition the most advanced positions yet developed" in the sphere o
materialist aesthetics. 2 It was perhaps all the easier to forget the coordinate
of these positions, in that even while Benjamin has been promoted repeatedly
in the name of Marxism - particularly in recent years--his concrete historic
1. The most important stages in this process of reception are: Werner Mittenzwei, "D
Brecht-Lukics Debatte," Sinn und Form 19 (1967), 235ff. and reprinted in Das Argumen
(1968), 12-32; Helga Gallas, Marxistische Literaturtheorie (Neuwied and Berlin, 1971
Lothar Baier, "Streit um den schwarzen Kasten. Zur sogenannten Brecht-Lukics Deba
Text und Kritik, Sonderband Bertolt Brecht I (Munich, 1971), 37-44. Baier denies any cur
significance of this debate.
2. Martin Walser, Wie und wovon handelt Literatur (Frankfurt am Main, 1973), p. 1
3. Karl August Horst, "Literatur von links. Anmerkungen zu Walter Benjamin und George
(sic) Lukaics," Wort und Wahrheit 11 (1956), 519-526. At best, this pamphlet is interesting as a
document of the ideology of its author. It makes no contribution to the understanding of the
relationship of Brecht and Lukaics.
4. Walter Benjamin, Briefe, eds., G. Scholem and Th. W. Adorno (Frankfurt am Main,
1966), p. 263.
5. Even his acquaintance with the book seems to be due to Bloch. See letter to Scholem dated
June 13, 1924, Briefe, p. 350.
6. Ibid., p. 351.
II
7. Ibid., p. 355. The editors of the letters are responsible for the omission. This is especially
regretable since Benjamin writes about his position vis-a-vis communism both before and after
this point in the text and therefore probably discussed something similar in the part omitted.
8. Ibid., p. 381.
9. Now in Benjamin, Gesammelte Schriften, ed., H. Tiedemann-Bartels, 3 (Frankfurt am
Main, 1972), p. 171.
10. Georg Lukics, "Die Verdinglichung und das Bewusstsein des Proletariats," Geschichte
und Klassenbewusstsein. Studien iiber marxistische Dialektik (Berlin, 1923), p. 94 ff.
11. Lukics, "Rosa Luxemburg als Marxist," (1921) in Geschichte und Klassenbewusstsein, p.
49 (quotation by Lukics from Luxemburg's Akkumulation des Kapitals) and p. 53. In the same
book, in the article "Kritische Bemerkungen iber Rosa Luxemburgs 'Kritik der russischen
Revolution' (1922)" (p. 276 ff.), Lukics seems partially to retract his pro-Luxemburg position.
Even here he seems not so much to criticize her theoretical analysis but rather, from his own
revolutionary experience, her statements on the use of violence and freedom of opinion.
12. Ernst Bloch, "Aktualitat und Utopie. Zu Lukics' Philosophie des Marxismus," Der neue
Merkur 7 (1924), 469.
13. Lukaics, op.cit., p. 7.
14. Lukacs, "G. Zinov'ev gegen die Ultralinken (1924)," Schriften zu Ideologie und Politik,
ed., P. Ludz (Neuwied und Berlin, 1967), p. 720 f.
Bloch (op.cit., p. 459) had anticipated this reaction from Moscow: "Indeed, it will not be easy
for the book to find good readers. The Russians, for instance, who act philosophically, but who
think like uneducated dogs, will smell a defection in it. Infinitely different from the revisionists,
they are driven off almost in the same way by the philosophical heritage. Some of them will say,
Marx didn't set Hegel on his feet in order that Lukics could set Marx back on his head again."
15. Benjamin, Briefe, p. 417.
16. Ladislaus Rudas, "Orthodoxer Marxismus," Arbeiter-Literatur 9 (1924), 493-517;
Abram Deborin, "Lukics und seine Kritik des Marxismus," Arbeiter-Literatfir 10 (1924),
615-640; Ladislaus Rudas, "Die Klassenbewusstseinstheorie von Lukics," Arbeiter-Literatur 10
(1924), 669-696 and 12 (1924), 1064-1089 (Quotation, p. 516 f.).
precondition, indeed the absolute fulfillment and the last word of theoretic
knowledge. The polemics published against this work by high officials of the
Communist Party under the leadership of Deborin serve in their own way to
confirm its significance."l7 It was in this fashion, fully conscious of the
condemnation by Moscow orthodoxy, that Benjamin adopted the basic idea
of Lukacs' book as his own creed.
These notes mark the close of a development that had begun in 192
turning point in Benjamin's personal and intellectual life. On his retu
Berlin from Capri in December, 1924 he wrote to Scholem: "The comm
signals also... were, at first, indications of a turning point, which awa
in me the determination not to mask in Old Franconian fashion the actual
and political aspects in my thinking, as earlier, but to develop them, develop
them experimentally, in the extreme... As long as I, in my accustomed role
as commentator, am prevented from getting to texts of a quite different
significance and totality, I will probably spin 'politics' out of myself. And, of
course, I am always taken by surprise at my proximity to various aspects of an
extreme Bolshevik theory."18 Fragments of this kind of political theory are
contained in One- Way Street (Einbahnstrasse) published in 1928 and
dedicated to Asja Lacis. The earliest part of the book which can be dated, the
"Trip Through German Inflation," had been conceived already in September
of 1923-- in other words, before Benjamin had read Lukacs' book-- and had
been given to Scholem in the form of a scroll when he emigrated to
Palestine.'9 In this "descriptive analysis of German decadence" Benjamin
focused on the symptoms signaling the final decline of bourgeois social order
in Germany. The permanent condition of crisis and general impoverishment,
according to Benjamin, subjects both human beings and things ever
increasingly to basic economic necessity, thereby depriving them of their
autonomy. Bourgeois people lose their social sense of orientation. They ex-
ploit nature without letting it reach maturity. They are beset with "insecurity,
indeed the perversion of the instincts vital to life, together with impotence
and decline of intellect. This is the state of mind of German citizenry as a
whole."20 By way of a pragmatic analysis of the conditions of postwar
Germany, Benjamin had come to conclusions similar to those gained by
may never make peace with poverty when it casts its gigantic shadow over his
people and his home. He should keep his senses alert for every humiliation
that assails him, and discipline himself until his suffering no longer opens
onto the precipitous road of hate, rather onto the ascending path of
prayer."21 Benjamin, whose own family was ruined economically by inflation
and who was affected by it materially and spiritually, limited himself at first
to a purely contemplative attitude toward these social catastrophes. Only
under the influence of Marxist theory as communicated by Lukics did he
begin to articulate more strongly the political elements in his thought. In the
printed version of the paragraph quoted above, published in 1928, the last
phrase reads: "until his suffering no longer opens onto the precipitous
road of grief, but instead onto the ascending path of revolt."22 The changing
of the two nouns points to a radical reevaluation. The meditative attitude
with its positive emphasis in the first version appears transformed into the
negative: the emphasis now is on grief. The activism which had been
denigrated as "hate" in 1923 now becomes the bearer of hope in the form of
"revolt."
The newly acquired materialist point of view, which Benjamin used in his
attempt to fix the historical moment in other sections of One- Way Street as
well, is no more "orthodox" than that of LukAcs. In fact, several of the
fragments in this collection proceed directly from LukAcs' dialectical theory
of history. In the section entitled "Fire Alarm" ("Feuermelder"), for example,
the philologist Benjamin observed characteristically that the words "class
struggle" are misleading: "Class struggle isn't a question of a test of strength
which will decide the question who triumphs and who will be defeated... To
think that way is to create a romantic illusion about the facts. For whether the
bourgeoisie is victorious or defeated in the battle, it remains condemned to
decline by virtue of its internal contradictions-contradictions which
eventually will prove fatal. The only real question is whether it will destroy
itself or be destroyed by the proletariat. The answer to that question will
determine the continuation or the end of a cultural development of three
thousand years."23These sentences summarize succinctly Luk'Acs' theses of the
antinomies of capitalism and show to what extent the breakthrough of a social
totality depends on the victory of the proletariat. However, Benjamin did not
merely paraphrase; he also shifted emphasis. Be relinquishing any kind of
coherent framework of profit-here, in particular, an economic frame-
work--he lent to words the authoritarian character of dogma. What is
more, unlike Lukics he did not see the victory of the proletariat as a historical
necessity, but decidedly as a matter of doubt. Benjamin's intent becomes even
clearer in the allegorical image with which he ends the text: "And if the
abolition of the bourgeoisie hasn't been achieved by a certain almost
calculable point in the economic and technical development (inflation and
gas warfare are signals of its approach), then everything is lost. Before the
spark reaches the dynamite, the burning fuse must be severed. The moment
of intervention, the danger and tempo are technical, not chivalrous
question."24Here, as in every allegory, the intended meaning can be clearly
associated with individual elements of the image. The dynamite symbolizes
the contradictions within the bourgeoisie and at the same time the technical
and economic potential which it has amassed and which give the insoluble
contradictions their explosive force. The glowing fuse represents the ever
inflating power of the bourgeoisie. According to the image, Benjamin saw as
the duty of the revolutionary proletariat the interruption of the process of
domination, and thereby a diverting of the fatal catastrophe.
Revolution--in the "Kaiser Panorama" ("Kaiserpanorama") it is called
more precisely "revolt"- as a radical break with the whole of development up
to the present, indeed with history itself, stands in opposition to Lukacs' view
of revolution as the consummation of the historical process. The radical break
is the invariable touchstone or constant in Benjamin's thought. As early as
1921 in the essay "Toward a Critique of Force" ("Zur Kritik der Gewalt"),
historical force applied to the assertion and preservation of rights is
contrasted with revolutionary force, "which is the name for the highest
manifestation of pure force on the part of mankind."25 But here this
distinction remains rooted merely in historico-philosophical and metaphysical
categories: Benjamin identified myth as the source of the objectionable force
in history, while he characterized the force which will destroy history as
"divine" and "provident." Only through his encounter with communism did
his thought become socially grounded. Yet even then the eschatological
aspect is retained, which is a decided contrast between Benjamin's concept of
revolution and that of Marx. Benjamin confirmed this himself in a later
fragment belonging to the "Passagen-Arbeit": "Marx says that revolutions
are the locomotives of world history. But the situation may be quite different.
Perhaps revolutions are not the train ride, but the human race grabbing for
surrealist rapturously loses the self in esoteric love; how he breaks through the
inhibitions and conventions of the bourgeois individual in order to produce
an unrestrictive public sphere; and, finally, how he frees objects from the
spell cast upon them by their perversion as commodities by discovering
utopian potentials in what has "become" outmoded and historic.
In this poetic explosion of the bourgeois world, the chains capitalism has
put on nature and society are broken. It is therefore no coincidence that the
world discovered in the works of the surrealists appears as the counter-image
to the description of social decline shown in "Trip Through German
Inflation." For Benjamin, social praxis is manifested in these novels.The
anti-bourgeois behavior of the surrealists and their cooperation with the
communists is a guarantee for him that their intention for a poetic
destruction of a malign reality includes its social destruction. Bourgeois
society itself pushes the intellectual to revolt. In fact, the "animosity of the
bourgeoisie toward any and every manifestation of radical intellectual
freedom" is the basis for the "transformation of an extremely contemplative
attitude into revolutionary opposition," a phenomenon Benjamin first located
in Apollinaire and which he saw as typical for the surrealists' turn toward
political practice. "This animosity pushed surrealism to the left."29 Hence
Benjamin saw the position of the literary avant-garde as analogous to that of
the proletariat. Just as in LukAcs' analysis the proletariat is driven to
revolution by the antinomies in capitalism, so too, for Benjamin, the
intellectual in advanced capitalist society had also become a revolutionary
factor. Whereas, however, the proletariat comes to a consciousness of itself on
the basis of the insoluble contradictions of its class conditions, the intellectual
discovers his social role on the basis of the contradiction between society's
ideology, which he formulates and transmits, and its reality. This discovery
helped Benjamin see the ambivalence of the "intoxicated" revolt, which in
actuality is directed toward the past and which rests "on a feeling of
obligation, not to the revolution, but to traditional culture." In this way the
intellectual fights for the ideals of a bourgeois society which that society has
long since betrayed. Therefore there is always the risk that the intellectual will
leave his ally, the proletariat, in the lurch. From this analysis is also derived
the mystic term "profane illumination"30 which Benjamin applied to the
insight found in the surrealist texts. This insight is "profane" in two respects.
First, its sources do not lie in divine inspiration, but in an understanding of
history; second, it does not seek the salvation of the individual in God, but
decisions of orthodox Marxist policy of the Moscow school, but also the
revolutionary optimism of LukAcs, then living in Moscow. Defeat of German
Social Democracy and Stalinism in Soviet Russia are no accident de parcours
in his eyes, rather the necessary results of Marxism's incomplete
understanding of revolution.
III
In point of fact, both the political and aesthetic thought of Lukacs center
on the Hegelian concept of "wholeness," or "totality." In the early Theory of
the Novel both aspects are still considered a unity. The totality of life is the
mark of the early period in Greece and is simultaneously given form in
characteristic genre, the epic poem. What at this point dominates
aesthetic construct of history both as source and goal, emerges after Lukics
turn to Marxism as categories which divide the social and historical from th
aesthetic. In History and Class Consciousness the concept of totality is gi
political application: the victory of the proletariat will at last resolve
contradictions and produce the world and society in its totality within
In contrast to the earlier definition determined by content, the concept
totality functions for the new aesthetic theory as a formal criterion of the wo
of art. In other words, Lukacs considered art to be great and realistic only i
portrays reality in its totality, thereby reflecting society in its c
antagonisms. During the same period when the essays of History and C
Consciousness were written, Lukacs demonstrated this basic principle of
Marxist aesthetics for the first time in a short essay on Balzac. The arti
published April 26, 1922 in Die Rote Fahne, analyzed Balzac's novels as
35. Georg Lukics, "Der Nachruhm Balzacs," Die Rote Fahne, April 26, 1922; reprinted in:
Walter Fahnders and Martin Rector, eds., Literatur im Klassenkampf. Zur proletarisch-
revolutiondren Literaturtheorie 1919-1923 (Munich, 1971), pp. 61-64.
36. See Gerald Stieg and Bernd Witte, Abriss einer Geschichte der deutschen Arbeiter-
literatur (Stuttgart, 1973), p. 74ff.
37. W.I. Lenin, "Parteiorganisation und Parteiliteratur," Arbeiter-Literatur, 3/4 (1924).
38. G. Zinov'ev, "Ueber die Aufgaben der proletarischen Zeitungen," Arbeiter-Literatur,
12 (1924), 942ff.
39. See in the same number the article: "Die Aufgaben der russischen Arbeiterkorres-
pondenten. 1) Das Vermichtnis Lenins und die Arbeiterkorrespondenten (by N. Bucharin).
2) Die Kontrolle durch die Massen und die Arbeiterkorrespondenten (by N.K. Krupskaja)."
only a formal aesthetic category, but which he projected as the content of the
final goal into the future, was in turn interpreted by official theory to mean
that the social totality as well had already been achieved. In the perfected
socialism of the Soviet Union the work of art need only "reflect" that socialism
in order to achieve wholeness in content and form. As long as Lukics was in
Moscow, he understandably took no measures to correct this misinter-
pretaion. Thus the doctrine of socialist realism formulated under Stalin was
to remain the final word in Marxist literary discussion for a long time to
come. Even Brecht, then in exile in Denmark, thought it advisable to
withhold from publication in the periodical Das Wort his articles directed
against Lukacs' concept of realism in order to avoid challenging Moscow.
"Every one of their critiques contains a threat," he remarked to Benjamin
during the latter's visit to Svendborg in 1938.43
Benjamin called special attention to the practice of workers themselves
writing (writer-workers)--a policy that had been condemned in its theory and
repressed on political grounds-both in his 1934 address in Paris entitled
"The Author as Producer" ("Der Autor als Produzent") and in his essay "The
Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" ("Das Kunstwerk im
Zeitalter der technischen Reproduzierbarkeit,"1936). Thus Benjamin, who
had known about the literary practices of the Union of Proletarian-Revolu-
tionary Writers, but kept his distance,44 now took these up, along with
Chaplin's films, as the only examples of the positive transformation of art
through a revolution in its production techniques. Once in the hands of the
proletariat, the newspaper, as a mass communication medium, was to
provide workers with the possibility of publishing reports about their own
special areas of experience. Hence they are transformed from passive readers
into authors, producers of texts, and as such they in turn activate other
readers as well. In this way literature acquires an organizing function in
respect to its readers, by making them into potential authors, while at the
same time acquiring an operative function by bringing special practical
problems to a public with expertise. "Today there is hardly a gainfully
employed European who could not, in principle, find an opportunity to
publish somewhere or other comments on his work, grievances, documentary
reports or that sort of thing. Thus the distinction between author and public
43. Walter Benjamin, Versuche aber Brecht, ed., R. Tiedemann (Frankfurt am Main,
1966), p. 132.
44. See the comment by Asja Lacis in Revolutiondr im Beruf, ed., H. Brenner (Munich,
1971), p. 59: "Benjamin almost always accompanied me to the public events of the Union of
Proletarian Writers when Becher, Weinert and Eisler were to appear at the gatherings."
is on the verge of losing its basic character. The difference becomes merely
functional, it varies from case to case. At any moment the reader is ready to
turn into a writer. As an expert, which he had to become, for better or worse,
in an extremely specialized work process, .. he gains access to authorship. In
the Soviet Union, work itself is given a voice. To present it verbally is part of
man's ability to perform the work. Literary competence is now founded on
polytechnic rather than specialized training and thus becomes common
property."45 The very sober factuality of this statement contains a political
provocation: workers writing in a Western Europe overshadowed by fascism
and workers writing in the Soviet Union of 1936 where Zinov'ev had just been
condemned in one of the first big Stalinist show trials. Benjamin was not so
naive as to miss the political significance of his own words.46 His quotation
was a conscious one. In it he held onto a progressive literary tradition which
had been repressed by both fascism and Stalinism.
IV
Here Benjamin offers, as he wrote in a letter to Scholem, "a new 'theory of the
novel,' sure to gain your strong approval and a place next to Lukacs."48
In his own theory, consciously drawing upon Lukics' model, Benjamin
locates the place of the story-form historically and systematically between the
epic and the novel, the two poles established by Lukaics. Story-telling,.
according to Benjamin, represents "an almost artisan-like form of
communication." 49 That means first and foremost it is tied to a pre-industrial
society, to the lives of peasants, artisans and traders in whose workrooms and
inns, not yet illuminated by electricity, stories are told. That also means that
the stories themselves have the quality of handicraft: they are handed down
from generation to generation. Experience is accumulated in them,
expanded by each new story-teller, and is then passed on as "good advice,"
the moral which all stories contain. Like a valuable tool, the story is not
created by one individual artist; into its making goes the collective experience
of whole generations.
With the waning of the original artisan and peasant life-styles, story-telling
also begins to lose ground--not that it immediately and radically
disappeared. As one of the most outstanding examples of the story-teller,
Benjamin cited Johann Peter Hebel, whose art was possible even in the midst
of the progressing industrialization of the 19th century because he was close to
the peasants and artisans of Baden. Benjamin considered even Kafka to be a
story-teller, albeit an extremely borderline case. The forms of oral tradition
and therefore story-telling are still available to Kafka through the Jewish
tradition, yet their content, their experience, has been lost. Kafka is a
story-teller in a world in which there is nothing more to tell; hence, he has no
advice to pass on. His case demonstrates, however, the time-lags and faults
occurring in the alteration of literary forms: "The transformations of epic
forms must be imagined as occurring in rhythms comparable to the rhythmic
changes of the earth's surface in the course of millenia."so
The sign of the new age in Benjamin's words is "the rise of the novel at the
beginning of the modern period." For industrialization not only gradually
47. See the sketches "Warum es mit der Kunst, Geschichten zu erzihlen, zu Ende geht" of the
year 1928-1929, which are mentioned in Gesammelte Schriften 4/2, p. 1010.
48. Briefe (to Scholem, November 30, 1928), p. 482. That this reference applies to the
revision of the essay "Der Erzahler" seems to be established by the materials recently published.
The note by the editor of this volume of letters that "it is uncertain which work is referred to"
(Briefe, p. 484) can thus be corrected accordingly.
49. "Der Erzihler. Betrachtungen zum Werk Nikolai Lesskows," Orient und Occident, NF, 3
(1936), 16-33; cited here from Illuminationen. Ausgewahte Schriften, ed., S. Unseld (Frankfurt
am Main, 1961), p. 418.
50. Ibid., p. 414.
"The novel, whose beginnings reach back into antiquity, needed hundreds of
years before it found in the developing bourgeoisie the elements bringing it to
fruition. With the appearance of these elements the story began its slow
retreat into obsolescence .... On the other hand, we recognize that with the
established rule of the bourgeoisie and the emergence of the press as one of
the most important instruments of capitalism, a new form of communication
appears which, no matter how far in the past its origins may lie, has never
before influenced the epic form in any decisive way... This new form of
communication is information."53 Only today is it fully clear just how much
the superabundance of information has changed the function and reception
of literature. On the one hand, literature attempts to assimilate itself to the
new reality as documentary literature. On the other hand, at least in Western
society, the novel, as popular literature, deteriorates to the level of politically
inferior mass entertainment or as high literature, it becomes, with few
exceptions, a plaything for intellectual interpretation. This means that the
novel is less and less able to fill the functions of consciousness-forming and
socialization that it had for the rising bourgeoisie. These functions are
increasingly taken over by the excess of historical and topical documentation
offered by the mass media, especially television.
Benjamin only experienced newspapers, radio and film as vehicles of mass
communication. Unlike Adorno and Horkheimer, however, he does not reject
them out of hand as "culture industry." Instead, he sees in them a new supra-
individual form of communication which will lead to a new collective art if it
can be freed from the domination of capital. This is why Benjamin puts such
emphasis on the experiment with writer-workers; for in their communications
the individual no longer describes his private fate or that of a fictional hero,
rather he communicates social experiences. According to Benjamin, this is a
return of the story on a higher level, since here it becomes a depository for
collective knowledge. In contrast to traditional story-telling, this type of
writing lacks aura, that is historical uniqueness. Its supra-individual aspect no
longer arises from a natural succession of generations of story-tellers; rather it
arises from the universal synchronism brought about by technology, the
negative expression of which is the omnipresence of events diffused as
information by the mass media.
Intended as a polemic against Lukacs, Brecht's remark speaks directly to
Benjamin's literary praxis: "Our starting point is not the good old, it is the
bad new. The problem is not to reduce technology, but to expand it."54 Ben-
jamin puts this statement into practice by giving his own production the form
of newspaper articles. The texts One- Way Street and Berlin Childhood as well
as his literary essays and critiques were first published in daily newspapers and
magazines, primarily in the Frankfurter Zeitung. Benjamin, conscious of his
role as an intellectual, lacks, of course, the societal experience which he
himself sees as necessary. All that remained for him was the portrayal of his
own path, his "one-way street" to a new social consciousness and his memories
of a childhood spent in the security of the upper middle class. That this myth
of childhood takes the form of loosely juxtaposed feuilleton texts rather
than that of the novel, as in the case of his admired model Proust, bears
witness to Benjamin's intentions. What he first tested in the private realm was
to be carried over onto the historico-philosophical level of his work on
Baudelaire and 19th-century Paris. Just as Benjamin calls revolution an
emergency brake, a cutting of the buring fuse, so is his literary work an
attempt to bring the negative historical moment to a standstill, to ground a
perspective based on the unredeemed claims of the past. His dialectical
images resurrect the past as a vantage point from which to penetrate the
present. In active literary production, the importance of which Benjamin was
the first to emphasize as an alternative to passive reading, the intellectual uses
reflection on personally experienced history to aim at a transformation of
historical time, the same transformation which the worker brings directly into
his reportage as experience derived from praxis in society. Both intend to
achieve the same goal, through the act of writing, which, according to
Benjamin, political struggle should achieve in the revolution: the destruction
of history in favor of a happiness without history. This, however, requires the
mobilization of language "in the service of struggle or work; in any case in the
transformation of reality, not in its description."ss55 The opposition of
Benjamin's aesthetic theory to that of Lukics cannot be more clearly
expressed than in this sentence written in 1933.
Only in 1955, fifteen years after his death, does Benjamin's name appear
for the first time in an important context in Lukacs' writings. The occasion
was the study The Meaning of Contemporary Realism written in fall 1955 and
presented as a lecture to the German Academy of the Arts in January, 1956.56
Probably stimulated by the two-volume collection of Benjamin's writings
55. "Erfahrung und Armut," Die Welt im Wort (Dec. 7, 1933); cited here from
Illuminationen, p. 316.
56. Georg Lukics, "Die Gegenwartsbedeutung des kritischen Realismus" (1957), in: "Essays
iiber Realismus," W'erke 4 (Neuwied and Berlin, 1971), p. 459.
57. Under the title: Wider den missverstandenen Realismus (Hamburg, 1958).
58. "Essays uber Realismus," p. 160.
59. Theodor W. Adorno, "Erpresste Vers5hnung," Noten zur Literatur II (Frankfurt am
Main, 1963), p. 170ff.
60. Georg Lukacs, "Die Eigenart des Aesthetischen," 2 Hbb., "Aesthetik Teil I," Werke 12
(Neuwied and Berlin, 1963), p. 872.
61. "Essays iber Realismus," p. 496.
62. See in addition the most recent discussion of the complex of problems concerning
"socialism and the cultural heritage" in Sinn und Form, 25 (1973), Nos. 1, 3 and 4. In the article
"Der entlaufene Dingo, das vergessene Floss. Aus Anlass der 'Macbeth'-Bearbeitung von Heiner
MiAller" Wolfgang Harich makes the following quite concise formulation of Lukacs' position:
"The way that socialism accomplished this dialectical achievement, i.e., the establishing of
historical continuity through measures of revolutionary change, was to set for society as a whole
a goal worth striving for, which is called communism, and to channel the self-interest of
individuals active in political, economic and cultural spheres into a rationally determined overall
development bringing this goal nearer day by day." See Sinn und Form, 25 (1973), 213. On the
other hand, the attempt has recently been made to make Lukacs' theory of the cultural "heritage
of the past" productive for literary scholarship in the Federal Republic as well. Cf. Gert
Mattenklott and Klaus Schulte, "Literaturgeschichte im Kapitalismus," in Neue Ansichten einer
kiinftigen Germanistik, ed., Jurgen Kolbe (Munich, 1973), pp. 75-101. This attempt failed
because the authors, like Lukics himself, did not analyze their own social role and that of their
students.
Benjamin's book with Goethe's concept of the symbol and thus summarized
the opposition of the two views of art and the world.
Lukics correctly understood Benjamin's historical study of the Baroque
theater as a systematic study of anticlassical art. By adopting Benjamin
unconditionally in order to apply his analysis negatively against modernism,
Lukics made it appear as a theoretical position counter to his own aesthetics.
What Lukaics actually accomplished is firstly a displacement of emphasis, for
Benjamin's esoteric work could never have and was never intended to have the
social impact of Lukics' statements. Moreover, it is also a distortion of
Benjamin's intentions, in that even as a negative antipode it places him back
into a basically bourgeois tradition, one which Lukics considered binding for
himself, but which Benjamin had long since abandoned. Benjamin's own
theoretical position lies in another system of coordinates. It is characterized
by his experiences as a member of the metropolitan intelligentsia and his
contact with the judaic-mystical tradition. As a solitary intellectual divested
of a social function, he came to see society's poverty, the decay of tradition
which has led to a "new barbarism."64 Indeed, from the clippings, fragments
and left-overs of what he ironically called "cultural wealth" he was able to
read the sign of the times; thus, the most heterogeneous elements point to
present poverty and coming catastrophes: the experience of human impo-
tence in technological warfare, glass architecture, Scheerbarth's novel
Lesebandio, figures by Klee and verses by Brecht.65 In his own writings,
however, these fragments are given organization by the messianic hope for an
end of history. In the light of this faith mediated by the Jewish tradition, even
a figure like Mickey Mouse, which might appear as a prototype of the modem
lack of tradition, becomes the pledge of another undistorted world.
"Benjamin," Lukics writes, "thus sees quite clearly that the contradiction
between allegory and symbol... cannot in the last analysis be a product--
whether spontaneous or conscious--of the aesthetic formulation itself, but is
fed from deeper sources: from the necessary attitude of people toward the
reality in which they live, in which their activities develop or are inhibited in
their development."66 This sentence is not only true of the poetic praxis which
it intendedBenjamin
Benjamin. to describe;
had it is also
been applicable
forced to leadtothe
thelife
theorists Luk.cs and
of a destitute intel-
lectual beginning with the impoverishment of his parents through inflation
and continuing during his life in exile. By this dispossession and the necessity
to sell his literary production as a commodity, he experienced solidarity with