Faust

By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Faust is the protagonist of a classic German legend who makes a pact with the Devil in exchange for knowledge. The meaning of the word and name has been reinterpreted through the ages. "Faust" has taken on a connotation distinct from its original use, and is often used today to describe a person whose headstrong desire for self-fulfillment leads him or her in a diabolical direction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Start Publishing LLC
• Release date: Mar 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781625587145

Book preview

Prelude at the Theatre

MANAGER

DRAMATIC POET

MERRY-ANDREW

MANAGER

You two, who oft a helping hand

Have lent, in need and tribulation.

Come, let me know your expectation

Of this, our enterprise, in German land!

I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated,

Especially since it lives and lets me live;

The posts are set, the booth of boards completed.

And each awaits the banquet I shall give.

Already there, with curious eyebrows raised,

They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed.

I know how one the People’s taste may flatter,

Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel:

What they’re accustomed to, is no great matter,

But then, alas! they’ve read an awful deal.

How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,–

Important matter, yet attractive too?

For ‘tis my pleasure-to behold them surging,

When to our booth the current sets apace,

And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging,

Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace:

By daylight even, they push and cram in

To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host,

And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine,

To get a ticket break their necks almost.

This miracle alone can work the Poet

On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it.

POET

Speak not to me of yonder motley masses,

Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song!

Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes,

And in its whirlpool forces us along!

No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses

The purer joys that round the Poet throng,–

Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion

The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion!

Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling

The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,–

Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,–

Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast;

Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing,

Its perfect stature stands at last confessed!

What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit:

What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit.

MERRY-ANDREW

Posterity! Don’t name the word to me!

If I should choose to preach Posterity,

Where would you get contemporary fun?

That men will have it, there’s no blinking:

A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking,

Is something worth, to every one.

Who genially his nature can outpour,

Takes from the People’s moods no irritation;

The wider circle he acquires, the more

Securely works his inspiration.

Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin!

Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,–

Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,–

But have a care, lest Folly be omitted!

MANAGER

Chiefly, enough of incident prepare!

They come to look, and they prefer to stare.

Reel off a host of threads before their faces,

So that they gape in stupid wonder: then

By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces,

And are, at once, most popular of men.

Only by mass you touch the mass; for any

Will finally, himself, his bit select:

Who offers much, brings something unto many,

And each goes home content with the effect,

If you’ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it:

A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it!

‘Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent.

What use, a Whole compactly to present?

Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it!

POET

You do not feel, how such a trade debases;

How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true!

The botching work each fine pretender traces

Is, I perceive, a principle with you.

MANAGER

Such a reproach not in the least offends;

A man who some result intends

Must use the tools that best are fitting.

Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting,

And then, observe for whom you write!

If one comes bored, exhausted quite,

Another, satiate, leaves the banquet’s tapers,

And, worst of all, full many a wight

Is fresh from reading of the daily papers.

Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade,

Mere curiosity their spirits warming:

The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid,

Without a salary their parts performing.

What dreams are yours in high poetic places?

You’re pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold?

Draw near, and view your patrons’ faces!

The half are coarse, the half are cold.

One, when the play is out, goes home to cards;

A wild night on a wench’s breast another chooses:

Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards,

For ends like these, the gracious Muses?

I tell you, give but more–more, ever more, they ask:

Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory.

Seek to confound your auditory!

To satisfy them is a task.–

What ails you now? Is’t suffering, or pleasure?

POET

Go, find yourself a more obedient slave!

What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave,

The highest right, supreme Humanity,

Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure?

Whence o’er the heart his empire free?

The elements of Life how conquers he?

Is’t not his heart’s accord, urged outward far and dim,

To wind the world in unison with him?

When on the spindle, spun to endless distance,

By Nature’s listless hand the thread is twirled,

And the discordant tones of all existence

In sullen jangle are together hurled,

Who, then, the changeless orders of creation

Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance?

Who brings the One to join the general ordination,

Where it may throb in grandest consonance?

Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom?

In brooding souls the sunset burn above?

Who scatters every fairest April blossom

Along the shining path of Love?

Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting

Desert with fame, in Action’s every field?

Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting?

The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed.

MERRY-ANDREW

So, these fine forces, in conjunction,

Propel the high poetic function,

As in a love-adventure they might play!

You meet by accident; you feel, you stay,

And by degrees your heart is tangled;

Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled;

You’re ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe,

And there’s a neat romance, completed ere you know!

Let us, then, such a drama give!

Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live!

Each shares therein, though few may comprehend:

Where’er you touch, there’s interest without end.

In motley pictures little light,

Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite,

Thus the best beverage is supplied,

Whence all the world is cheered and edified.

Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower

Of youth collect, to hear the revelation!

Each tender soul, with sentimental power,

Sucks melancholy food from your creation;

And now in this, now that, the leaven works.

For each beholds what in his bosom lurks.

They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter,

Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see:

A mind, once formed, is never suited after;

One yet in growth will ever grateful be.

POET

Then give me back that time of pleasures,

While yet in joyous growth I sang,–

When, like a fount, the crowding measures

Uninterrupted gushed and sprang!

Then bright mist veiled the world before me,

In opening buds a marvel woke,

As I the thousand blossoms broke,

Which every valley richly bore me!

I nothing had, and yet enough for youth–

Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth.

Give, unrestrained, the old emotion,

The bliss that touched the verge of pain,

The strength of Hate, Love’s deep devotion,–

O, give me back my youth again!

MERRY ANDREW

Youth, good my friend, you certainly require

When foes in combat sorely press you;

When lovely maids, in fond desire,

Hang on your bosom and caress you;

When from the hard-won goal the wreath

Beckons afar, the race awaiting;

When, after dancing out your breath,

You pass the night in dissipating:–

But that familiar harp with soul

To play,–with grace and bold expression,

And towards a self-erected goal

To walk with many a sweet digression,–

This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,

And we no less revere you for that reason:

Age childish makes, they say, but ‘tis not true;

We’re only genuine children still, in Age’s season!

MANAGER

The words you’ve bandied are sufficient;

‘Tis deeds that I prefer to see:

In compliments you’re both proficient,

But might, the while, more useful be.

What need to talk of Inspiration?

‘Tis no companion of Delay.

If Poetry be your vocation,

Let Poetry your will obey!

Full well you know what here is wanting;

The crowd for strongest drink is panting,

And such, forthwith, I’d have you brew.

What’s left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do.

Waste not a day in vain digression:

With resolute, courageous trust

Seize every possible impression,

And make it firmly your possession;

You’ll then work on, because you must.

Upon our German stage, you know it,

Each tries his hand at what he will;

So, take of traps and scenes your fill,

And all you find, be sure to show it!

Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,–

Squander the stars in any number,

Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber,

Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night!

Thus, in our booth’s contracted sphere,

The circle of Creation will appear,

And move, as we deliberately impel,

From Heaven, across the World, to Hell!

Prologue in Heaven

THE LORD THE HEAVENLY HOST Afterwards

MEPHISTOPHELES

(The THREE ARCHANGELS come forward.)

RAPHAEL

The sun-orb sings, in emulation,

‘Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round:

His path predestined through Creation

He ends with step of thunder-sound.

The angels from his visage splendid

Draw power, whose measure none can say;

The lofty works, uncomprehended,

Are bright as on the earliest day.

GABRIEL

And swift, and swift beyond conceiving,

The splendor of the world goes round,

Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving

The awful Night’s intense profound:

The ocean-tides in foam are breaking,

Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled,

And both, the spheric race partaking,

Eternal, swift, are onward whirled!

MICHAEL

And rival storms abroad are surging

From sea to land, from land to sea.

Reviews for Faust

[antao-3 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

(original review, 2004)I’m planning on spending a few weeks on Goethe’s Faust in multiple translations and as much of the German as I can manage, supplemented by hundreds of pages of notes and commentary.I first read the book while in high school in the totally un-annotated Bayard Taylor translation from Modern Library – one of the texts I’m currently reading. I’m still pretty fond of Taylor’s version – with some exceptions generally preferring him to Walter Arndt in the Norton Critical Edition. Taylor’s a relatively local boy – born in Kenneth Square, PA where the town library carries his name.One thing I recall from that ML edition is that a few lines were Bowdlerized with dashes. For example, this song sung by Faust and Mephistopheles with two witches:FAUST ( dancing with the young witch)A lovely dream once came to me;I then beheld an apple-tree,And there two fairest apples shoneThey lured me so, I climbed thereon.THE FAIR ONEApples have been desired by you,Since first in Paradise they grew;And I am moved with joy, to knowThat such within my garden grow.MEPHISTOPHELES ( dancing with the old one)A dissolute dream once came to meTherein I saw a cloven tree,Which had a————————;Yet,——as 'twas, I fancied it.THE OLD ONEI offer here my best saluteUnto the knight with cloven foot!Let him a—————prepare,If him—————————does not scare.I imagined something really obscene was being masked there, but it turns out to be a double entendre only slightly more risqué than the “apples” in the first exchange. Here’s Arndt’s uncensored rendering:FAUST [ dancing with the YOUNG ONE]In a fair dream that once I dreamed;An apple-tree appeared to me,On it two pretty apples gleamed,They beckoned me; I climbed the tree.THE FAIR ONEYou’ve thought such apples very nice,Since Adam’s fall in Paradise.I’m happy to report to you,My little orchard bears them too.MEPHISTOPHELES [ dancing with THE OLD ONE]In a wild dream that once I dreamedI saw a cloven tree, it seemed,It had a black almighty hole;Black as it was, it pleased my soul.THE OLD ONEI welcome to my leafy roofThe baron with the cloven hoof!I hope he’s brought a piston tallTo plug the mighty hole withal.I am reminded in re-reading it how much in common Faust has with the fantasy books that were my staple reading at the time I first encountered it Tolkien, Peake, E. R. Eddison. I was reminded of this by some of the comments today about "The Buried Giant" (disclaimer I’ve not read any Ishiguro). For centuries literature and fantasy were almost synonymous – only in the 18th century did it start to require a kind of warning label.Just about all the operas are adaptations of Faust Part 1, though Arrigo Boito, as I recall, included an episode with Helen of Troy. The dual language Anchor Books edition with Walter Kaufmann’s translation, which seems to be the most commonly available in my neck of the woods, includes only bits of Part 2 from the first and last acts. This may make sense insofar as the edition is intended for students of German, but really makes a hash out of Goethe’s intentions for the work as a whole. I’m really enjoying wrestling with the complexities of Part 2; my recent readings in Greek tragedy helps – Goethe writes a very credible pastiche of the form in the first half of Act 3. [2018 addenda: In Portuguese, our most distinguished Germanist, João Barrento, has already published his Magnum Opus, Faust’s full translation. I haven’t read it yet, but I will].In acquiring various versions of Faust over the years I’ve been mainly interested in those that are complete – the portions editors are the most likely to cut are those that I think would gain the most from multiple viewpoints.

[brakketh-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Holding off on further review until finished Part II. Currently finding it a little challenging to read but sticking with it as a seminal work (see for example the use of Faustian as a tag).

[iffland · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Unmatched!

[jonfaith · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Dear friend, all theory is gray, and green the golden tree of life.

What else to say? Towering as an archetype, akin to Hamlet, the Inferno and White Whale -- this tale of pact has been absorbed into a our cultural bones, like an isotope. It is more telling to consider that I listened to Tavener while reading this. I recently gave Pandora a spin but found that I owned more Schnittke than was afforded by my"station" but if I leave such, will I miss those Penn Station ads?

I will say that I should've read my Norton critical edition, well actually, my wife's copy -- the one I bought for her in Columbus, Ohio ten years ago. I went with a standard Penguin copy and I'm sure many of the historic references were lost for me.

No one should consider that I regard Faust as emblematic of power politics in the US or a possible Brexit across the water. I'm too feeble for such extrapolation.

[haidji-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Goethe is an amazing writer. Faust despairs and wants the death because he can not understand the truth.Dissatisfied with knowing all there is to know about everything, Faust sells his soul to the devil to learn, experience and understand more.It's classic, it's brilliant and full of wisdom and eternal truths.

[gturkington-2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

yo. evil is evil y'all.

also I'm a closet Romantic

[papirofagia · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

"Último grande poema dos tempos modernos", no dizer de Otto Maria Carpeaux, o Fausto de Goethe está para a modernidade assim como a Divina Comédia de Dante está para a Idade Média. Repletos de referências aos mais diversos campos do saber, os dois textos representam não apenas a obra máxima de seus autores, mas a suma do conhecimento humano e das aspirações espirituais de suas épocas.Escrito e reescrito ao longo de mais de 60 anos, o Fausto integral - compreendendo a primeira e a segunda parte - só seria concluído às vésperas da morte do autor, ocorrida em março de 1832. Já a primeira parte da tragédia (também conhecida como Fausto I), que tem como cerne o pacto de Fausto com Mefistófeles e a conseqüente "tragédia de Margarida", foi elaborada por mais de três décadas, de 1772 a 1806, sendo finalmente publicada, com aprovação de Goethe, em 1808. É esta primeira parte - que pode ser lida também como obra independente - que aqui se publica. A presente edição, bilíngüe, traz a elogiada tradução de Jenny Klabin Segall (livre dos vários erros tipográficos que se haviam acumulado ao longo de sucessivas reedições) acompanhada por uma esclarecedora introdução do professor Marcus Vinicius Mazzari, da Universidade de São Paulo, autor também das notas e comentários.Este volume conta ainda com o chamado "Saco de Valpúrgis" - versos bastante obscenos que deviam integrar a cena "Noite de Valpúrgis" mas que o próprio Goethe, num gesto de autocensura, deixou de fora da edição canônica de 1808, e que são agora publicados, pela primeira vez em nossa língua, em tradução literal de M. V. Mazzari.Ilustrado com desenhos e litografias de Eugène Delacroix, considerado por Goethe o homem certo "para se aprofundar no Fausto e provavelmente criar imagens que ninguém poderia imaginar", este lançamento tem tudo para se tornar a edição de referência do Fausto I em nosso país, a ser seguido em breve pelo Fausto II, também em tradução de Jenny Klabin Segall, com apresentação e notas de M. V. Mazzari.

[viccavalli · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Part One of Faust was one of the few books in my life that forced me to put on a pot of coffee and give up a night's sleep to finish it. The young Goethe simply nailed it. When I then got a hold of Part Two (written by the much older Goethe) and sat down with it, I was stunned. His style had completely changed; I never would have guessed it was by the same author. I'm not judging Goethe or the work as a whole, that would be arrogant and ridiculous given his stature as a writer, but simply noting that the experience of reading those two parts of Faust raised serious questions about critical editorial / literary analysis research which makes claims about authorship. It also convinced me that as a writer I should finish what I start. The idea of a long work being as organic and unified as a grapefruit--as John Gardner puts it--instinctively appeals to me.

[thorold_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It's a strange notion, "reviewing" a text that is one of the pillars of German national identity and has had untold hectolitres of ink spilled over it by critics in the last couple of centuries. Maybe the most appropriate question to ask in a place like this is "What does Faust I have to offer the casual modern reader?" Two main things, I think: amazing language and a cracking good yarn.Like Hamlet or the KJV in English, reading Faust through is a bit like joining the dots between dozens of quotations you already know. The language has a very direct appeal to the reader: you don't have to be an expert in 19th century German verse to make sense of it (though I'm sure you would get more out of it if you were). After a few pages you entirely forget what a strange notion it is to be reading a verse drama, and just enjoy the sound of the words.The story isn't as "big" and "epic" as you might imagine. The core story of Gretchen's seduction and fall is told in a very intimate, naturalistic way, and even the big Walpurgisnacht scene is essentially a series of little cameos rather than a big spectacular.

[gbill_7 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Faust is Goethe’s masterpiece and the heart of his life’s work. He started thinking about it and writing it when he was bored with his studies at University and at the time he quickly cranked out “The Sorrows of Young Werther”, but by contrast he did not complete Faust (Part 1) until decades later, when he was in his fifties. He continued on with Part 2 right up until death at 82.This is not the origin of what has been popularized in so many different ways over the centuries in “selling your soul to the devil” stories, but one of the better versions and certainly a standard reference for the others. It’s the story of not just the condition of Faust’s everlasting soul as he ponders the abyss of suicide, but the condition of man on planet Earth. Jacques Barzun summarizes it well in the introduction to this edition: “…the torment comes from the awareness that man is at once wretched and great. He is wretched because he is a limited, mortal creature; he is great because his mind embraces the whole universe and knows its own wretchedness. No ordinary satisfaction can quench Faust’s desires; forever he sees and wants something beyond. The ultimate bliss would be to feel at one with nature, through knowledge not merely intellectual but emotional also, virtually instinctive; whereas all learning serves but to make Faust more self-conscious and isolated, till he scarcely feels that he lives. Clearly, this defines the situation of modern civilized man, whose increasing knowledge makes him more and more self-critical, anxious, beset by doubts, and hence more and more an alien in the natural world that is his only home.”Epic and grand in scope. Man’s soul, his passions, his fate. Not quiiite as brilliant as I had hoped for from its reputation, but Part 1 is in the “must read” category. Quotes:On beauty:“Often the perfect form appearsOnly when ripened slowly many years.What glitters lives an instant, then is gone;The real for all posterity lives on.”On living life:“Yes, of this truth I am convinced –This is wisdom’s ultimate word:Only he deserves this life in freedomWho daily earns it all anew.”On transience:“Here shall I satisfy my need?What though in thousand volumes I should readThat human beings suffered everywhere,And one perchance was happy, here or there?Why grin, you hollow skull, except to sayThat once your brain, perplexed like mine,Yearning for Truth, pursued the light of day,Then in the dusk went wretchedly astray?”On the passing of youth. :-(“Then give me back those years long pastWhen I could still mature and grow,And when a spring of song welled fastOut of my heart with ceaseless flow,When all the world was veiled in mist,When every bud a miracle concealed,And when I gathered myriad flowersCrowding the valley and the field.Though naught was mine, I had enough in youth,A joy in illusion, a longing for the Truth.Give back the surge of impulse, re-createThat happiness so steeped in pain,The power of love, the strength of hate –Oh, give me back my youth again!”

[multifaceted_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I'm not sure what to think of the tone of the book over all, as I come away from it with a feeling that Faust is being condemned to the devil for seeking too much knowledge. I feel like there is also something of the old "doctor wanting to be god" joke in here, as well. But I get the feeling that, over time, Faust will come to be one of my favorite characters, along with Voltaire's Candide and Camus' Meursault. And there is definitely something "absurdly" tragic about Goethe's character, as well. Because, to me, Faust isn't just about someone who makes a deal with the devil to make his life better. Rather, it's about someone whose thirst for knowledge is never slaked, who seeks to know everything and what it's like to be everyone. Or, should I say, Faust seeks to be omniscient. (And I have to wonder, is that necessarily a bad thing? Would the world be worse off if we knew just what it was like to be the millionaire in his mansion, or the low class beggar in the city?) But to get back on track: at the same time, he realizes he is merely only a human, and he is burdened, depressed, and frenzied by the knowledge that he probably can never know everything--and there is something so full of humility, so pathetically human about his situation. This leads him to not just "make a deal" with the devil, but to acquiesce to Mephistopheles as a sort of last resort. Why not, if there is no other way he can gain omniscient knowledge, anyway? Of course, Mephistopheles makes him become enamored with a woman, and this love transports Faust, and makes him finally feel like he has gained everything he's ever wanted. Where am I going with this? I don't know, because I don't quite know what Goethe was going for, either. But Faust's words say it all the better:"And here, poor fool! with all my loreI stand, no wiser than before"

[miquixote · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

What does Faust mean? Tough to find too many books more open to interpretation since Columbus landed on American soil. Obvious comparisons with Adam and Eve and the serpent: except the sinner/first one to bite the apple/knowledge-seeker here is a man (yup, feminists have jumped all over that one). interpretations still up for grab: is the sinner a rebel? overly ambitious? is wanting knowledge a deadly sin (ie. pride) -- should Faust be punished? ; or maybe the socialist interpretations are right and Mephistoles symbolizes dissidence -- truth seekers may just be rejecting oppression...down with the elites, closed minds and limited worldviews! Is Mephistopheles the tempter, trying to destroy Faust or is he freeing him? This book was also the center of a cultural war of interpretation in Germany between the Nazis and the spirit of the Weimar....we all know who won that battle... What Goethe was really trying to say, you'll have to decide for yourself...The cultural war (or class war?) is far from over...so read it!