A Reading of Kleist's "Michael Kohlhaas"Author(s): John R. CarySource: PMLA, Vol. 85, No. 2 (Mar., 1970), pp. 212-218Published by: Modern Language AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1261395Accessed: 26/07/2010 13:44

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A READING OF KLEIST'S MICHAEL KOHLHAAS*

BY JOHN R. CARY

I SHOULD LIKE to offer a reading of Michael Kohlhaas that accounts for the work as a

unified whole, including the apparently arbitrary plotting and the Romantic supernatural devices. My thesis, simply stated, is that the work centers in the struggle between the outlaw Kohlhaas and the Elector of Saxony. Kleist is using the classical topos of the worldly ruler and his rebel captive in the same way in which this topos has functioned since the Greek and Baroque tragedy, namely as a device to show the confrontation between the pragmatic and the intuitive, the civilized and the passionate sides of man.

I would argue that the Elector of Saxony is no less ambiguous a figure than is Kohlhaas, or indeed than are all of the figures in the novella. Kleist is intrigued with ambiguity and paradox. The Elector attempts to fulfill the law of the realm in dealing with Kohlhaas, only to discover too late that from the very beginning, his rela- tionship to his outlawed adversary was one which was governed not only by human, but also by extra-human, law. Kohlhaas, the rebel, has placed himself outside the jurisdiction of the human community, but supernatural law is on his side. Thus the conflict between ruler and rebel becomes a conflict between two kinds of law, hu- man and extra-human. There can be no harmo- nious resolution, only the paradoxical destruction of both contestants. The Elector succumbs to the law of Fate through its instrument, vengeance, wreaked by its agent, Kohlhaas, who himself suffers the death penalty according to the laws of the community. Justice is thus reestablished at both levels, but on ironic terms, at once rational and grotesque, humane and monstrous.

I would further assert that Kleist depicts the clash between the Elector and Kohlhaas as a conflict which comes about, in part, because of the complexity of the social and political world which separates and estranges the two men from each other. This human distance, together with human error and evil and the workings of fate, casts the entire work into the twilight of tragic, rather than conscious, guilt. Onto the classical "ruler-captive" topos, Kleist superimposes, as it were, the romantic topos of the rebel who is driven to break the law of the community because his access to the ruler, the absolute, true source of justice and authority, is complicated by the presence of the ruler's countless representatives. Thus Kohlhaas, representing absolute law, seeks

a response by an equally absolute representative of the law of the realm, only to be met by the counsellors of the ruler. When he finally does come face-to-face with the Elector of Saxony, it is too late.

Michael Kohlhaas pursues a form of justice which has been denied him through due process of law. He is thereby put into the position of breaking the written law in order to uphold what for him is an absolute and transcendent concept of justice. The Elector of Saxony, on the con- trary, insists on acting within the written law, even though Prince Christiern of Meissen points out to him, during the long council session, that Kohlhaas has placed himself outside the protec- tion of the law by so brutally taking it into his own hands (II, 51).1 The prince asserts that nothing short of violence can cope with a man who has so completely upended the good order, that is the law of the state. The Elector, however, seeking to avoid violence, accepts the advice of another counsellor, Count Wrede, who urges that Kohlhaas' claims be awarded him so that the state can avoid a confrontation with the rebel (ni, 51). The Elector considers this the most practical, "zweckmaiiigste" approach (ii, 52). He opens the way for such a resolution of the affair by adopting the recommendation of no less a spiritual authority than Martin Luther, who proposes that the case be reopened under the condition that Kohlhaas lay down his arms and accept protective custody under the state (II, 53).

This arrangement is within the law, and for a while Kohlhaas seems to have access to due pro- cess of the law. The state demonstrates its good faith by undertaking a painstaking search for the horses. It is doubly ironic, then, that the re- appearance of the horses, instead of strengthen- ing the cause of law and reason, only serves to initiate a renewed outbreak of the anarchy and brutal violence which marked Kohlaas' rebellion against the state. This is the effect of the scene with the horses on the marketplace of Dresden, which ends in a bloody riot. From this point on, matters worsen for Kohlhaas until he reaches the

* A portion of this paper was presented before German 3 (Eighteenth Century and Goethe) at the 1968 meeting of the Modern Language Association in New York City.

Heinrich von Kleist: Sdmtliche Werke und Briefe, ed. Helmut Sembdner, 4th rev. ed. (Munich, 1965), throughout referred to within the text by volume and page number.

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nadir of his career with his death sentence under the laws of Saxony.

The Dresden market scene marks the midpoint of the work. I believe that Kleist put it there because it is a statement of the true distance that separates Kohlhaas from the laws of the state and their appointed defender, the ruler. The riot in Dresden breaks out because the Elector's Chamberlain, Kunz von Tronka, does not share the people's fear and contempt of the horses. For the people, including their spokesman, Master Himboldt, the horses are virtually dead, now that they are in the hands of the knacker, and no one may touch them until they have passed through the ritual of having a flag waved over them. With this ritual they are made ehrlich (II, 62), their honor is restored, and they are again fit for traffic with human beings. Kleist refers again to this ritual at the end of the story, when he relates that they have undergone the flag-waving ritual before they are restored to their original vitality and take their place, literally, in the gathered community on the Berlin marketplace (ii, 101). For the people in Dresden the horses are outside the community in the realm of the dead, so that to readmit them without the proper ritual is to invite disaster through sinister powers. Only the absolute power of ritual can meet the threat of the realm of the absolute.

Master Himboldt accordingly insists that none of the people will obey the Chamberlain's orders to move the horses until the ritual is observed (II, 62). Kunz von Tronka, on the contrary, gives no sign of even comprehending the wishes of the people, furiously orders the dismissal of the servant who refuses to do his bidding, and finally provokes the fury of the crowd so that a riot breaks out (II, 63). For the Chamberlain, the matter is an entirely practical one, and he proposes a solution which is entirely within the laws of practical reason. He also acts clearly with- in the written laws of the land. Yet he is scan- dalously guilty in the eyes of the people, with their feelings about the power of the dead. Con- versely, Master Himboldt is at the same time innocent according to his feeling about the in- visible laws of the dead, and guilty according to the written laws of the land, and he is led off to prison, charged with inciting riot.

The significance of the Dresden scene becomes apparent only when it is read against three other major scenes of the work, namely those set in Jiiterbock, in the barn at Dahme, and in Berlin. Each shows a ruler, or his representative, threat- ened by a dead or virtually dead being. At Jiiterbock the Elector of Brandenburg challenges

the gypsy's powers of prophecy. When she fore- tells the appearance of a stag penned in a nearby park, he has it hunted down and killed. By what appears to be chance, a butcher's dog snatches up the carcass as it lies waiting to be skinned and drags it before the Electors of Brandenburg and Saxony (ii, 90-93). This mysterious chain of events brings the two rulers face-to-face with the reality of the power of prophecy, which sees into the workings of the laws of fate. They experience the laws of fate as absolute and transcendent, un- affected by the power of human calculation. The dead stag takes on a paradoxical life and a force of its own under these laws. Furthermore, the stag's return from the dead gives force to the gypsy's prophecy of doom for the House of Saxony. Because of the dead stag, therefore, the Elector of Saxony is afraid that death will strike him at any moment. He is not given the details of the time and manner of the disaster, for these are contained in a note in a capsule which the gypsy gives to Kohlhaas, who is standing not far away, watching.

The same pattern of events appears in the recognition scene in the barn at Dahme. The Elector of Saxony, who has every reason to believe that he is done with Kohlhaas forever now that the case has come under Brandenburg jurisdiction, discovers that the anonymous man who received the capsule from the gypsy at Jiiterbock was none other than Kohlhaas him- self (II, 82-83). Only a short time ago Kohlhaas had been in a Saxon prison, sentenced to die; that is, virtually dead. Chance had brought the Elector of Brandenburg into the case, so that Kohlhaas is snatched away from the jurisdiction of Saxony. Like the stag at Juterbock and the horses at Dresden, he is virtually a dead creature who has come back to life, thereby causing his tormentor dismay, even terror. Neither the laws of the state, nor even time and space, can protect the Elector from Kohlhaas if the latter now chooses to withhold the contents of the capsule. Kohlhaas is the custodian of an absolute truth pertaining to the workings of the laws of fate in the existence of the Elector. Kleist adds the touch of having the Elector hope that he will escape detection by Kohlhaas in the barn because he, the Elector, is wearing a hunting costume. Lady Eloise, his companion on the hunting party, scoffs at his fears, saying "dai3 ihn ja in der Jagertracht, die ihn decke, kein Mensch erkenne" (II, 81). It is an irony, therefore, that none but the Elector understands the deeper import of Kohlhaas' account of the earlier Juterbock scene. He is hurt by Kohlhaas not through Kohlhaas'

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recognition of him, as he had feared, but through the reverse. His hunter's disguise and his calcu- lations are rendered as useless as was the plan of the hunters of the stag at Jiiterbock. Once more the captive hunted turns on the apparently free and absolutely powerful hunter. Kohlhaas is under heavy guard, deprived of all freedom of movement, like the stag. Similarly, the exhausted horses, drained of energy and standing nearly dead in the Dresden marketplace, almost cause the death of a member of the Tronka clan which had so abused them earlier in the story.

Finally, in the Berlin scene, Kohlhaas takes revenge on the Elector once and for all by swallowing the contents of the capsule just before he is executed. Now he is not virtually dead, as he was at the barn at Dahme, but dead in fact. His death prevents the Elector forever from feel- ing safe from a violent death himself. The prophecy of the gypsy, and with it the laws of fate, may be fulfilled at any moment. The Elector returns to Saxony a broken man.

It will thus be apparent that the Dresden scene, which occupies the center of the work, is just one of several statements of the same theme, namely of the power of the dead to challenge the authority of the living, just as the animals can challenge the cunning and power of those who hunt and abuse them. The dead, virtual and actual, like the animals, have fate, timeless Nemesis and her weapon of vengeance, on their side.

There is evidence that the animals in the work are symbolic equivalents for Kohlhaas, who also is abused by men but returns to take his ven- geance so that justice may be reestablished. Like the horses, he had virtually perished, was abused and cast outside the human community. As an outlaw, he has no identity before the law. He is like the horses, of whom it is said "sie sind tot: sind in staatsrechtlicher Bedeutung tot" (II, 65).

Kleist equates Kohlhaas with an animal at various points in the work, perhaps most directly when he has Luther use the simile of the wolf in the desert who breaks into the peaceful com- munity which is under the protection of the ruler (II, 42). Later, Kohlhaas uses the same image when he tells Luther that he feels like a man who has been driven into the wasteland among the savages because he has been denied the protection of the laws of the community (II, 45). The savage and the animal, like Kohl- haas, threaten the community as outlaws. As Kohlhaas points out, he has rebelled because the community denied him protection in the first place. The law of the community was corrupted,

he says, so that in order to assert his existence, he has been forced to resort to the law of vengeance. Or, as he puts it to Luther, the community has put "die Keule, die mich selbst schiitzt, in die Hand" (II, 45). Kleist offers a parallel in the case of the stag at Jiiterbock. It was denied even the protection of the laws of the hunt, for it was hunted down not in open woodland, but in an artificial, completely enclosed park. This turns the hunt into a slaughter; the hunters, including the Elector of Brandenburg, into butchers. It is for this reason that Kleist adds the slight, but clearly calculated and ironic touch of having a butcher's dog drag the dead stag into the pres- ence of the Electors (II, 93). Having been denied protection according to the laws of the hunt devised by humans, the stag finds protection under the laws of the unseen domain of the dead, presided over by fate, which is inscrutable to all but its oracles, such as the gypsy soothsayer.

Kleist supplies various clear hints that Kohlhaas has the protection of pagan divinities of classical origin. The gypsy, who is none other than Lisbeth, Kohlhaas' wife returned from the dead, is compared to a Roman sybil (II, 91). She shields her eyes from the sun, as if she were more used to the dark underworld (II, 92). When she gives her gloomy prophecy about the coming demise of the House of Saxony, she looks at the Elector with a gaze "kalt und leblos, wie aus marmornen Augen" (II, 92). Kleist characterizes the gypsy's preparations for speaking her proph- ecy to the Elector as "weitlaufig und um- standlich," as if she moved in a world of time apart from that of her interlocutor (II, 91). I think Kleist would have her appear as the oracle not of fate, simply, but specifically of timeless Nemesis, the goddess of justice who kept the universe in balance and took vengeance on those who failed to honor her. With the aid of the gypsy, Kohlhaas gains his vengeance on the Elector and thus punishes the representative of the corrupt state.

If the gypsy who accompanies and protects the dead stag-the sacred animal of classical mythology-is an oracle for pagan divinities of the ancient world, the knacker who accompanies the dead horses is a figure from Germanic folk- lore which Kleist seems to link with the sacred beasts of Germanic mythology.2 The knacker's

2 Kleist did not invent his animal figures. He found the horses in Haftitz' Mdrkische Chronik, the stag in von Arnim's Der Wintergarten, or in some other source which both he and Arnim may have used. See Josef K6rner, Recht und Pflicht: Eine Studie iiber Kleists Michael Kohlhaas und Prinz Friedrich von Homberg (Leipzig und Berlin, 1926), p. 24 n.

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alien nature is stressed by the presence of the pool of filth which separates him, and the "dead" horses, from the crowd (II, 62). Like the horses, he is an object of both disgust and awe, an alien presence.

Both the gypsy and the knacker are pagan guardians of the dead, who are at the same time victims of injustice. The gypsy, furthermore, en- ables the dead stag and the virtually dead Kohl- haas to turn the tables on the seemingly trium- phant and invulnerable men who have had a part in their unjust treatment. Accordingly, the stag and Kohlhaas are, like the gypsy, agents of Nemesis, for it is they who make the instrument of Nemesis, namely irony and vengeance, felt on the men of worldly power who have wronged them. The stag's appearance guarantees that the gypsy's prophecy of doom for the Elector will be fulfilled. Kohlhaas' final act of swallowing the capsule's contents before he dies in fact fulfills this prophecy. The Elector of Saxony is carried home, as Kleist puts it, "zerrissen an Leib und Seele" (II, 103).3

It can thus be asserted that the Dresden marketplace scene contains the first indication of the true state of affairs between the Elector of Saxony and Kohlhaas. Prince Christiern of Meissen has been right in saying that it is too late for the niceties of law and for pragmatism in dealing with a rebel who has made a mockery of the law. Kohlhaas is just as much a threat to the community as his "dead" horses, and only some absolute act such as unconditional combat will protect the community. By considering a reopen- ing of the case, the Elector is, accordingly, under- taking an illusory enterprise which is doomed be- fore its start. Kleist introduces the capsule episode into the novella to emphasize this point. Too late the Elector discovers the real and ulti- mate relationship between himself and Kohl- haas, namely, that from the very day that Kohl- haas had begun his rebellion, when they both were at Jiiterbock, the power struggle between them had been in balance, thanks to Kohlhaas' possession of the truth about the Elector's fate. The Elector wants to use the pragmatic ap- proach, when only an absolute act will suffice. He is thus as blind to the extra-human power of the outlaw Kohlhaas as his Chamberlain Kunz von Tronka is to the extra-human power of the "dead" horses. In both cases a collision between two kinds of law, the human and the extra- human, ensues.4

It is significant that the Elector of Saxony is nowhere shown to be acting in anything but good faith. In his handbill directed to Kohlhaas,

Luther asserts that the Elector is not even aware of Kohlhaas' plight (II, 43). There is no textual evidence to contradict this. In the same handbill, and again when Kohlhaas confronts him, Luther points out that a ruler must not be held responsi- ble for matters of which his subordinates have deliberately kept him ignorant (II, 43, 45-46). Thus the Juterbock scene, with its involvement of ruler with his subject in complete anonymity, and without the knowledge of either figure, is expressive of the prior, ineluctable involvement of the Elector in the Kohlhaas case not because of any personal guilt on his part, but because of political realities, which are presented as no less ambiguous than other aspects of the world of the story. Early in the story Kohlhaas expresses what he already knows very well: "Der Landes- herr ist vielfach umringt, mancherlei Verdrief3- lichkeiten ist der ausgesetzt, der ihm naht" (II, 29). Kleist represents the Elector as a fallible, but well-intentioned ruler faced with the task of preserving justice amid the complexities of politi- cal life with the aid of advisors. Some, among them Prince Christiern of Meissen and Heinrich von Geusau, reveal themselves as true advisors, while others, for example the Tronka clan as a whole, are presented throughout the story as morally ambiguous figures. In short, Kleist offers a realistic image of the typical court.

The council debate preceding the Elector's offer to Kohlhaas is introduced as a means of demonstrating the difficulty of selecting the right decision. Kleist elicits the closest attention of the reader by giving him access to what amounts to a verbatim account of the proceed- ings. Thus the reader is forced to assume the Elector's point of view as he is exposed to a de- bate which is full of contradictory proposals, each with a measure of validity. In the end, the

3 In their examination of the theme of metaphysical justice in Kleist, Dieter Huhn and Jiirgen Behrens point to the "higher order" in Das Kathchen von Heilbronn, but they do not examine the "lower order" present in Michael Kohlhaas. "Uber die Idee des Rechts im Werk Heinrich von Kleists," Jahrbuch des Wiener Goethe Vereins, LXIX (1965), 185.

4I am in agreement with Benno von Wiese about the thematic and structural significance of the Dresden scene. We differ, however, about the nature of its significance. Von Wiese finds in it a confrontation of order and anarchy, while I read it as a collision of two kinds of law. See his Die deutsche Novelle von Goethe bis Kafka (Diisseldorf, 1960), I, 55. Ginther Blocker (Heinrich von Kleist oder das absolute Ich, Berlin, 1960, pp. 217-220) perceives a paradoxical conflict between what he terms a written and a higher law, but does not consider this theme in its implications for the work as a whole. See also Walter Silz, Heinrich von Kleist: Studies in his Works and Literary Character (Philadelphia, 1961), pp. 196-198.

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reader finds himself unable to decide confidently in favor of any one course of action, and he is thus made to experience, in a virtual sense, the task facing the Elector. The latter alone has the power to act, so that it is his responsibility to make the right judgment in the face of a seem- ingly anarchic situation. It was pointed out above that he chooses the moderate solution rather than the radical one. It is not in his somewhat cautious and hedonistic nature to take up arms if there is another way. Kleist points to his frivo- lous side in the Dahme scene with Lady Eloise and the hunt party. The point is, however, that Kleist does not make him an unattractive, let alone a sinister, figure. The Elector is presented as civilized, not unappealing. He becomes inad- vertently guilty and ultimately suffers more than he deserves, like Kohlhaas.

Kleist makes this clear when he relates how the Elector becomes responsible for the specific act which turns Kohlhaas against him. This oc- curs when he acquiesces in the plan to trap Kohl- haas through his lieutenant Nagelschmidt's let- ter. Kleist describes the Elector as acting reluc- tantly, refusing all the while to act unjustly toward Kohlhaas (IT, 75). At first he rejects the advice of Kallheim, Hinz, and Kunz. Then the text reads: "und alles, wozu er sich, um hieriiber aufs Reine zu kommen, auf den Vorschlag des Prasidenten, obschon nach grosser Z6gerung entschlof3, war." The action continues with the plan to test Kohlhaas by means of the letter. The tortured style of the passage con- veys the state of mind of the Elector, his nat- ural tendency to consider matters with a pragmatism which lacks decisiveness. He falls victim to the scheming Tronka clan. It is an ironic, and emblematic, touch of Kleist's to give the names Hinz and Kunz, that is Every- man, to those in the clan who are most intimate with the Elector. They are ambiguous, imper- sonal figures, who surround the sovereign with an indefinable sense of the sinister.

Kleist shows, however, that evil is com- pounded by error even among the clearly well- intentioned advisors, as in the instance of Count Wrede and the matter of the money payment in lieu of the horses (II, 64). The Count misjudges the situation and inadvertently undermines Kohlhaas' position, ironically, as Kleist puts it, "aus iibergrof3er Rechtlichkeit, und einem davon herrtihrenden Haf3 gegen die Familie Tronka." That is, Kleist depicts the Tronkas and the other courtiers as men who use power in a realistic way. The Elector alone has the authority to make the judgment and to decide the course of action in

the face of these complex factors in which he is involved by the nature of politics.5

The final Berlin scene serves to show not only the Elector of Saxony, but also the Elector of Brandenburg figuratively enacting their rela- tionship to Kohlhaas. Whereas the Elector of Saxony stands partly obscured by the knights, the Elector of Brandenburg faces Kohlhaas across the open square. Kohlhaas approaches the Elector of Brandenburg, who stands above him on a slope so that he must go up to him. Kleist uses the word "heranschritt" to convey the vigor of the movement of Kohlhaas toward the ruler, who is depicted as standing above and at a distance from him, but accessible to him (II, 101). Finally, the Elector inquires of him: "Bist du mit mir zufrieden?" (II, 102). Instead of uttering a reply, Kohlhaas makes a silent gesture. The text reads "so lief3 er sich, aus der Ferne, ganz iiber- waltigt von Gefiihlen, mit kreuzweis auf die Brust gelegten Handen, vor dem Kurfirsten nieder" (II, 102). In contrast to his relationship with the Elector of Saxony, who is only partly visible and inaccessible to him in his time of need, Kohlhaas is face-to-face with the Elector of Brandenburg. Words are no longer necessary for him to communicate with his ruler, though he be- holds him even now "aus der Ferne." Kohlhaas' prayerful posture suggests that he is expressing his gratitude to a divine authority represented on earth by the Elector. He is in the presence of the absolute, so that silent ritual, rather than the rational, relative medium of words, is the ap- propriate mode of communication. In asking Kohlhaas to decide whether or not justice has been done, the Elector has not relied on the visi- ble evidence alone, but rather has gone beyond this in seeking to know what is invisible to him, namely, Kohlhaas' feelings on the matter. The Elector has realized the precarious nature of the just relationship among men, which depends on visible as well as invisible factors, on the laws of reason and the laws of the unseen but felt realm of the supernatural, which is experienced within man, privately. The Elector, the defender of the communal law, asks Kohlhaas the individual, the defender of the unseen law, to give the final verdict, which is based on feeling rather than on reason.

5 Walter Miiller-Seidel examines the relationship of the Elector of Saxony and Kohlhaas in terms of judging and misjudging, but primarily from the perspective of Kohlhaas. He stresses contradiction and paradox within Kohlhaas but does not pursue the implications of this pattern for Kohlhaas' relation with the Elector. Versehen und Erkennen: Eine Studie uber Heinrich von Kleist (Cologne, 1961), pp. 109, 149-150.

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In the end, however, this paradoxical balance between the two realms of law yields to the for- mer, equally paradoxical state of implacable struggle between them. As has already been pointed out, Kohlhaas' death is the fulfillment of both the human and the supernatural laws, for it is at once an act of expiation and vengeance. His execution fulfills the human law, while his virtual destruction of the Elector of Saxony ful- fills the extra-human laws of fate, of which Kohlhaas is the agent, vengeance the instru- ment. At another level, there is the further para- dox that Kohlhaas, having been received back into the Christian community through the ritual of communion which reunites the Christian with his God (II, 100), dies as a pagan, still as full of vengeance as he was when Luther originally de- nied him communion for this very sin (II, 48). Throughout the work, Kohlhaas exists in con- tradictory realms, the human and the extra- human, the Christian and the pagan. He is at once compassionate with children and animals, yet brutal in his treatment of the communities which he attacks. He is both attractive and re- pulsive in the unconditional manner with which he asserts his individual existence in the face of suffering and death.

It is essential to an understanding of this work, however, to see it as a representation of a uni- verse which is full of paradox and ironic contra- diction. Not only Kohlhaas, but all the figures, human and animal, are touched by the tragic irony which centers on the main figures. Kohl- haas' wife Lisbeth, for example, dies as a Chris- tian martyr counseling her husband forgiveness of his tormentors, in keeping with the Sermon on the Mount (II, 30). She reappears, however, as the gypsy, a pagan oracle who enables Kohlhaas to wreak his vengeance on the hapless Elector of Saxony. Moreover, she all but encourages him in his designs (II, 98). Again, the fact that Lisbeth dies from a blow at the hands of one of the Elec- tor of Brandenburg's guards is ironic, because the Elector is unaware of this fact. Hence he is in a situation like that of the Elector of Saxony, who also is unaware of what Kohlhaas has been made to suffer because of the actions of some of his, the Elector's, subordinates. Yet it is the Elector of Saxony who is made to suffer, while in the end it is the Elector of Brandenburg who ap- pears on the scene as the just ruler. This sidelight takes on even more irony when it is read against the slight, but significant device by which Kleist later contrasts the Electors against each other. Both sovereigns have close advisors named Kall- heim, each related to the Tronkas. By the end of

the story, the Kallheim in Saxony has been ele- vated to replace the well-intentioned Count Wrede as Chief Justice of Kohlhaas' tribunal. Kohlhaas is at once found guilty and sentenced to death. At this point in the story the initiative shifts to the Elector of Brandenburg, who summons his chancellor Count Kallheim. He dismisses him at once when he learns "dafi3 die Verwandtschaft desselben mit dem Hause derer von Tronka an allem schuld sei." Kleist contrasts the fortunes of the Kallheims in successive paragraphs in order that the cumulative effect will not be lost on the reader (II, 77). Taken together with the image of the Elector obscured by the knights, this motif is enough to convey at once that the Elector of Brandenburg is a man who does not hesitate to reject not only advice, but advisors as well. Yet it was a palace guard, one of the least of the Elector's subordinates, who killed Lisbeth. And it was her death which finally prompted Kohl- haas to begin his rebellion in the first place (II, 30-31).

Elsewhere, Kleist characterizes the Elector of Brandenburg, albeit in the judgment of the Elector of Saxony, as "aufgeweckt . . .von Natur" (II, 90). This estimate, accurate in itself, is undercut, however, by its appearance in the Jiiterbock scene at precisely the time when the Elector of Brandenburg is about to misjudge the gypsy's powers of prophecy. Kleist has him, rather than the Elector of Saxony, challenge the gypsy and order the killing of the stag. There is even a detailed description of the careful manner in which the stag is confined (II, 91). This passage is justified only as the presentation of evidence for the apparently incontrovertible logic of the Elector of Brandenburg's preparations. The passage also reveals the Elector as a man who without any sign of pity knowingly authorizes the breaking of the laws of the hunt, which would have given the stag a measure of freedom in his contest with the human hunters. The Elector therefore demonstrates both critical intelligence and a capacity to sacrifice compassion for the sake of logic. He is a mixture of clear reason and brutal indifference. In terms of the animal imag- ery of the work he has even involved himself in hubris by authorizing the slaughter of the stag. Accordingly, it remains unclear as to why he is spared a fate similar to that of the Elector of Saxony.

Again, it is by pure chance that Brandenburg even hears of Kohlhaas' plight. Heinrich von Geusau happens to mention the fact while they are out for a walk (II, 77). It is also pure chance that Saxony's relations with Poland make it pos-

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A Reading of Kleist's "Michael Kohlhaas"

sible for the Elector to have decisive pressure put on Saxony for the release of Kohlhaas (II, 77-78). These scenes all cast a twilight over the figure of the Elector of Brandenburg, revealing him as no less contradictory a figure than the Elector of Saxony, or any other character in the work. Kleist has him, the just ruler and judge, become deeply implicated in the case at the outset. Yet Kleist would have the reader realize that no one can weigh the guilt of the ruler's involvement through the deeds of a subordinate any more than one can weigh the exact degree of guilt ac- quired by the Elector of Saxony through a similar irony of fate. Like Kohlhaas, the two Electors are both innocent and guilty, caught in a world which exists within two conflicting yet complementary kinds of law which operate in it, the law of reason and the absolute law of chance or fate.

Justice and the lost innocence of the judge and

judged alike are the themes of two other works of Kleist, Der zerbrochene Krug and Prinz Friedrich von Homburg. In the latter drama, it is another Elector of Brandenburg whose actions trigger the transgressions of the man he must later judge. In this case the Elector is made to realize the underlying reality of the problem through one of his advisors, but not until very near the end of the action (Act v, Scene v). This knowl- edge does not make him act any more charitably, however, and in the end his reprieve of the prince is prompted by what can reasonably be termed an inscrutable mixture of mercy and arbitrari- ness, of a sense of justice and a passion for sheer sport. The ending of the play, like the ending of Michael Kohlhaas, leaves the source and nature of justice as mysterious as ever.

HAVERFORD COLLEGE

Haverford, Pa.

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