Anatol

I’ve found the forerunner to the modern sitcom: a cycle of seven one-act plays from 1893 by Arthur Schnitzler titled Anatol. In the act “Episode,” our philandering hero Anatol is bitterly disillusioned when Bianca, a circus-girl with whom he has once had an affair, fails to recognize him on her return to Vienna. In the act “Abschiedssouper,” he gives what he intends to be a farewell supper for the ballerina Annie, whom he’s tired of, only to find to his unjustified indignation that she has come with a similar intention.

The English have always wanted to break up with the rest of the contintent. At last summer's Euro 2008 tournament, England and Europe were officially over. But who dumped whom?

In June, Schnitzler’s country Austria co-hosted with Switzerland the
Eurocup of soccer, which has a higher worldwide following than the Olympics, second only to the World Cup in the gathering of humans for any peacetime reason. One national team with intermittent success and constant participation in the Eurocup is England. During qualification England drew an easy group and took their chances for granted. After all, they had countless superstars on their men’s national team. However, like Anatol, their performance wasn’t memorable and they failed to impress. In a last-ditch effort with home field advantage at Wembley against lowly Croatia, England fully intended to serve their opponents a farewell supper but instead saw themselves dumped in an embarrassing 2-3 loss last November. This year’s Eurocup tournament events had the dubious distinction of being conducted largely in Continental English for the masses of tourists, but lacking any national team from the English speaking countries of England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Northern Ireland, or Malta, all who failed to qualify.

Manners for Romantic Liaisons or Stadium Beer

Manners haven’t always been old-fashioned. They were cutting-edge in the heyday of the Enlightenment. (Maybe I shouldn’t use “heyday” for the Enlightenment. How about, “at the sensible and sagacious midpoint of the Enlightenment”?)

A great lesson in manners is a 1771 novel-in-letters called Geschichte des Fräuleins von Sternheim by Sophie von La Roche – whose protagonist is also named Sophie. Lord Derby feigns benevolence to the poor in order to impress the virtuous Sophie, a self-proclaimed anglophile. They have a sham marriage, Derby gets tired of her, he marries another woman, he doesn’t tell Sophie but does try to kill her in the Highlands, she is saved by crofters, and the bad-mannered seducer croaks. Later, Sophie bumps into the guy she’s liked all along, a real mister good-manners named Seymour. They marry and live happily ever after. Their partnership is an enlightened one, based on politeness and mutual respect, which offers Sophie the scope to act upon her convictions: “Gesinnungen müssen Handlungen werden,” translates as, sentiments must be turned into deeds, which is an advocacy for virtue based on education – or, learn some manners, people!

Manners were progressive in the eighteenth century, but today they seem truly misplaced. Case in point, this advice from Austria’s etiquette guru Thomas Schäfer-Elmayer for the Euro 2008 tournament held last month:

Anyone with a ticket to see a game is likely to spend several hours next to a complete stranger and there too appropriate behaviour is required.

"It's not the done thing to introduce yourself in the stadium. But at first, one should address other adults formally." [Referring to the “Siezen” format in spoken German.]

And if a fellow fan, overcome by joy, was to spill his favourite drink on you: "I would urge him to be more careful and then keep my distance."

Without being aggressive, one should be able to prevent further unwanted interaction.

"I would give him a look to dampen his enthusiasm and put an end to all conversation," says Schaefer-Elmayer.

(AFP; June 4, 2008)

And with that, we've learned that Herr Schäfer-Elmayer has never been to a soccer game.

Competing for the Grail

In Wolfram von Eschenbach's Parzival, AD 1190, the grail makes its second appearance in world literature. Wolfram tells the tales in sixteen books of the world-traveling knight Gahmuret, the despondent queen Herzeloyde, the vainglorious Gawain, the tactless Arthur and his flawed court, the beautiful Condwiramurs, the hermit Trevrizent, and of course Parzival the bumbling bubele who was never taught his own name, much less how to be a good Christian knight. Parzival sets out on aventiǔre and along the way learns his name, his heritage, and how to live in the courtly world. He makes it from a secluded childhood in the forest to finding the grail at last. He achieves this by reconciling the Arthurian earth-based society with the spiritual grail society or, more to the point, by asking the wounded grail keeper Anfortas a magical question: "Uncle, what ails you?"

In the lecture series Where There Was No Way comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell calls Wolfram's romance the greatest work of Western civilization because it perfectly demonstrates the monomyth. The monomyth is found in almost every popular European and American epic from The Odyssey to Star Wars. But what is the grail? You can believe the Holy Blood, Holy Grail hoax of 1982, one of the coolest pranks in the twentieth century and the story bootlegged by Dan Brown in 2003. In fact, there are countless "Parzival Scholars," and each has a different explanation for what the grail symbolizes.

But what is it, as in, what is the actual thing, the object? In Parzival the grail is simply a stone. It gives those gathered around it plenty to eat and assures its protector of the highest title on Earth - along with a nifty castle that no one can find unless they chat it up with the Fisher King or let their horse wander off the path… Keep in mind we are talking about the grail, or graal in Middle High German, not the holy grail. It's called holy much later in gratuitous nineteenth century European works. It first became a cup of sorts in the thirteenth century. That shape is how the legacy of the grail continues today; just look at the trophies from some soccer competitions:



Perhaps the best grail-like trophy is for the winner of the German Bundesliga, because in the grail's first-ever appearance in any romance, Chretien de Troyes's Perçeval (AD 1180), the grail is simply a dish:



If you happen to know of a trophy that is in the shape of a stone, please let me know!

Das Runde auf dem Eckigen

Look! The architectural representation of this blog:


Notice the names and busts of Lessing and Goethe (further to the right was the Austrian playwright Grillparzer). On top, a massive soccer ball. This is the Wiener Burgtheater. I took this photo from the Fan Zone in Vienna (June 12, 2008) during the ongoing Eurocup tournament.

Gorzow Wielkopolski or Bust

In Christa Wolf's 1983 Kassandra, the Trojan War is retold slightly differently. In her version, Paris fails to steal Helen, but the royal family pretends that Paris succeeded, a circumstance the Greeks are happy to play along with because it gives them a pretense to attack Troy for its gold. The pre-war has started; Kassandra witnesses the slow disappearance of matriarchal structures: the queen loses influence in politics and is banned from meetings because "Krieg ist keine Frauensache mehr" (War is no longer a woman-thing). Kassandra comes to understand that her father is weak and allowed his kingdom to slip from the relative freedom of a society at the intersection of matriarchy and patriarchy into a police state.

We are in the pre-war of the Eurocup 2008. Is it a patriarchal police state? Not at all, but countless suits-and-ties do crowd the mega sports broadcasts and remind us at least visually that this isn't Frauensache. I am on my way to Poland, currently on a layover in North London, and I've already read my fair share of headlines on upcoming international "battles" and the inevitable proclamations by every guy in a Camdentown bar that "Spain will win this year!" FYI, Before every major tournament people always say Spain will win and they don't.

Why am I off to Poland? One of Saturday night's two matches is Poland versus Germany and I don't want to miss the public viewings and the crowds for that one. I love being a neutral observer while fans watch great matches. More poignantly for this blog, I'll watch the game from the town of Gorzow Wielkopolski. That's the birthplace of Christa Wolf, my favorite author from communist East Germany. When she was born it was a bilingual town, known as Landsberg by German speakers. It will be great to visit her normally monotonous birthplace on such a celebratory night. As for the Eurocup representing a patriarchal war, the good news is that tournaments between international teams (nations as opposed to clubs) draw the most mixed gender crowds of any type of soccer audience.

On that note, Wolf's Kassandra isn't all humdrum pessimism, she does put forward a matriarchal/patriarchal compromise in Kassandra's genuine relationship with Aineias. He is her "elixir of life." Two individuals predestined for an intimate, reciprocal relationship of equals. Consequently, their love is not a relationship of domination. Read the novel to learn how they do.

Yodeling in Denglisch

I’ve found the forerunner to the modern sitcom: A cycle of seven one-act plays from 1893 by Arthur Schnitzler titled Anatol. In the act “Episode,” we see our philandering hero Anatol bitterly disillusioned when Bianca, a circus-girl with whom he has once had an affair, fails to recognize him on her return to Vienna. In the act “Abschiedssouper,” he gives what he intends to be a farewell supper for the ballerina Annie, whom he’s tired of, only to find, to his unjustified indignation, that she has come with a similar intention.

The English have always wanted to break up with the rest of the contintent. At the upcoming Euro 2008 tournament, England and Europe are officially over. But who dumped whom?

In June, Schnitzler’s country Austria co-hosts with Switzerland the Eurocup of soccer, which has a higher worldwide following than the Olympics, second only to the World Cup in the gathering of humans for any peacetime reason. One national team with intermittent success and constant participation in the Eurocup is England. During qualification England drew an easy group and took their chances for granted. After all, they had countless superstars on their men’s national team. However, like Anatol, their performance wasn’t memorable and they failed to impress. In a last-ditch effort with home field advantage at Wembley against lowly Croatia, England fully intended to serve their opponents a farewell supper but instead saw themselves dumped in an embarrassing 2-3 loss last November. This year’s Eurocup tournament events will have the dubious distinction of being conducted largely in Continental English for the masses of tourists, but lacking any national team from the English speaking countries of England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Northern Ireland, or Malta, all who failed to qualify.