Colloquia Germanica
cg
0010-1338
Francke Verlag Tübingen
10.24053/CG-58-0004
0630
2025
581
On Arendt's Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet
0630
2025
Karen Feldman
Arendt writes in Men in Dark Times that “poets are there to be quoted, not to be talked about.” Nonetheless, over the course of her essay on Brecht, Arendt both quotes and talks about Brecht at length, and invents a slew of adages to explain the relationship between Brecht’s life and work. My argument is that in her sundry adages – or even phrases that sound like such – Arendt seeks, even invents, a specifically literary authoritativeness. For instance, according to Arendt, Brecht’s life story serves to illustrate that “a poet’s real sins are avenged by the gods of poetry.” Arendt derives this and other significant adages from a very loose interpretation of a line of Goethe, such that they seem to carry the authority and quotability of their supposed literary provenance. The Goethe line thus furnishes a literary authority for Arendt’s adages, while illuminating the conflicted lessons that she draws from the story she tells about Brecht.
cg5810049
DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 On Arendt’s Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet 1 Karen Feldman University of California, Berkeley Abstract: Arendt writes in Men in Dark Times that “poets are there to be quoted, not to be talked about�” Nonetheless, over the course of her essay on Brecht, Arendt both quotes and talks about Brecht at length, and invents a slew of adages to explain the relationship between Brecht’s life and work� My argument is that in her sundry adages - or even phrases that sound like such - Arendt seeks, even invents, a specifically literary authoritativeness. For instance, according to Arendt, Brecht’s life story serves to illustrate that “a poet’s real sins are avenged by the gods of poetry�” Arendt derives this and other significant adages from a very loose interpretation of a line of Goethe, such that they seem to carry the authority and quotability of their supposed literary provenance� The Goethe line thus furnishes a literary authority for Arendt’s adages, while illuminating the conflicted lessons that she draws from the story she tells about Brecht� Keywords: Arendt, Brecht, Heidegger, engagement, politics, communism In a 1966 New Yorker essay on Bertolt Brecht, republished in the volume Men in Dark Times , Hannah Arendt maintains that “poets are there to be quoted, not to be talked about” (“What is Permitted” 69; Men in Dark Times 210)� Nonetheless, her essay proceeds to “talk about” Brecht over dozens of pages, depicting the trajectory of his career, lauding his poetic skill, and lamenting his political choices� Over the course of the essay, Arendt invents a slew of adages about poets� These include: “[Poets] cannot bear the same burden of responsibility as ordinary mortals” (247); “[T]hose whose business it is to soar must shun gravity” (211); “In the thick of [reality] […] is no good place for a poet to be” (247); “[T]he majesty of the law demands that we be equal - that only our acts count, and not the person who committed them” (248); “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer” (211, quoting Goethe); “[A] poet’s real sins are avenged by the gods of poetry” (242); and “It is the poet’s task to coin the words we live by” (249)� 50 Karen Feldman DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 My topic in the following pages is the seeming authoritativeness of these adages about poets; I suggest that precisely owing to their epigrammatic flavor and quotability, Arendt’s invented adages carry a certain moral authority and a mantle of literary wisdom� That is, Arendt produces formulations that feel like quotable proverbs, mottos, and lessons, lending them an authoritativeness greater than that of a mere philosophical claim, opinion, or speculation� Following that observation, my argument is that in her advancement of such sundry adages that approach proverbial wisdom Arendt seeks, and even invents, a specifically literary authoritativeness. This authoritativeness is literary in several ways: It pertains to the produced ‘feel,’ or what we also could call the poetics, of the adage; it pertains in each case to questions of the proper role of poets; and, as I will argue, her adages fill in for the absence of an authoritative doctrine concerning the relationship of works of literature to their authors’ lives� The essay even enacts in its own argument the difficulty of disentangling judgment of the poet’s life and judgment of his poetry, insofar as it contains Arendt’s judgments on Brecht, as well as various adages that recommend eschewing judgment� Arendt’s pronouncements in other studies of literary authors in Men in Dark Times are narrower and less adage-like than those that appear in the Brecht study� 2 In her essay on Hermann Broch, Arendt makes pronouncements about how Broch’s work responded to his own concerns about the divide between literary production and political commitments� Arendt’s account of Isak Dinesen draws out a lesson that storytelling can be life-saving and wisdom-granting� The essay on Brecht, in contrast, evinces multifarious lessons, as Arendt advances various moralizing adages throughout� Her casting about for such lessons from Brecht’s life and work, I argue, reflects a concern unique to the Brecht essay because, in his ‘committed’ writing, Brecht is on territory that for Arendt is both more volatile and more universalizable than that of other literary figures treated in the volume, namely the relationship between politics and literature� Whereas the lessons learned from Broch or Dinesen concern the connections of their particular lives to their particular work, the lessons that Arendt draws from Brecht’s life concern the larger question of art and politics� Hence in contrast to the studies of Broch or Dinesen, the essay on Brecht seeks broader wisdom; Arendt writes that Brecht’s “political biography [is] a kind of case history of the uncertain relationship between poetry and politics” (209)� 3 In the course of the essay, however, Arendt turns from the clinical language of “case history” to the register of mythology or tragedy, producing the portentous dictum, “[A] poet’s real sins are avenged by the gods of poetry” (242)� In her concluding section, Arendt even calls this her essay’s “thesis” (242)� But what kind of “thesis” uses a language of sins, gods, and vengeance? “[A] poet’s real sins are avenged by the gods of poetry” instead reads as an adage, even as DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 On Arendt’s Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet 51 a principle of Greek tragedy or the plot of a myth� As I will discuss below, the adage may be understood to refer to a poetic sin that Arendt describes later in the essay, namely of failing to tell the truth� On the other hand, her “thesis” also seems to describe a tragic or mythic reversal and recognition that combine poetry and the world, insofar as the gods of poetry avenge the poet’s real sins, i�e�, the sins which are not poetic sins but worldly ones� The very difficulty of knowing what Arendt means suggests the entanglement in Arendt’s own thinking of the problem of the relationship between literature and politics� Her highly quotable “thesis” seems thoroughly applicable to Arendt’s withering assessment earlier in the essay of Brecht’s later poetry, in particular what she calls his “odes to Stalin” (213)� 4 Arendt describes Brecht’s poems about Stalin as “sound[ing] as though they had been written by the least gifted imitator Brecht ever had” (213)� This is a backhanded compliment to Brecht, whose earlier work she admires; Arendt states that Brecht “cease[d] to be a poet” late in his life, when these poems were written� 5 His “case” thus exemplifies how bad political judgment backfires upon the poet, who ends up producing inferior art� 6 Why not then, instead of creating a faux-tragic adage about the revenge of the gods on the poet, declare something like this: ‘Brecht’s talent, fittingly, was not in evidence once he became complicit with the GDR and professed a reverence for Stalin’? Or, more hackneyed, ‘Brecht illustrates the danger that writing positively about bad people can yield bad poetry’? My conjecture is that Arendt crafts an adage whose quotable formulation lends it an air of wisdom about both worldly and literary engagement� What Arendt means by the poet’s “real sins” is unclear, making for a mantic ambiguity� Indeed, there are several other aspects of the adage that help to convey the authority of literary tradition. Arendt derives the adage’s literary bona fides - in something of a stretch - from a line in Goethe’s “Venetian Epigrams,” whispered by a nymph to the poet, “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer [Poets do not sin gravely]�” Arendt thereby borrows literary authority from Goethe� Moreover, insofar as sins, gods, revenge, and the reversal and recognition to which the adage alludes are the stuff of tragedy and myth, they make for a more consequential formulation than Arendt’s earlier reference to Brecht as a “case history” (209)� The quasi-Goethean literary provenance, quasi-tragic formulation, and quotable feel of the adage thus renders it authoritative, makes it into a more portentous lesson than ‘Brecht illustrates the danger of writing bad poetry about bad people�’ There are other adages that Arendt introduces in the essay, both literary quotes and her own expansions on those quotes, that convey still other lessons� Goethe’s “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer” forms a segué to a sequence of loosely derived ‘teachings’ on the relationship of poets to the world: 52 Karen Feldman DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 This is what the case of Bertold [sic] Brecht is likely to teach us […]� The poet’s relation to reality is indeed what Goethe said it was: They cannot bear the same burden of responsibility as ordinary mortals; they need a measure of remoteness, and yet would not be worth their salt if they were not forever tempted to exchange this remoteness for being just like everybody else� (247) This is a productive and innovative gloss on Goethe’s short line, extracting from “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer” several precepts about the position of poets in the human world� First, the poet requires a certain remoteness from the world; second, we may not hold poets responsible as we do other people; third, and most removed from the Goethe line, poets “worth their salt” actually wish to be like everyone else, to live not at a remove from the world� Arendt appears to attribute each of these teachings to Goethe, as if they were implied in this line, but in fact she invents them herself� Even while the adages may seem farfetched with respect to Goethe’s line, they nonetheless carry the authority and quotability of a noble literary provenance� Arendt appears even to believe that they properly derive from Goethe; later in the essay she recapitulates her interpretation of the quote as if it were Goethe’s own adage: “[I]n general Goethe was right and more is permitted to poets than ordinary mortals” (218)� Arendt’s triple lesson about the poet’s necessary distance from the world stands in uncomfortable proximity to her seeming apologia for Heidegger in her essay for Heidegger’s 80 th birthday� 7 In that essay Arendt appears to absolve Heidegger from personal and ethical responsibility for his involvement with National Socialism, and to trivialize or excuse his decision-making both prior to becoming rector of the University of Freiburg under National Socialism and after stepping down and withdrawing from public activity� Arendt wrote that it is striking and perhaps exasperating that Plato and Heidegger, when they entered into human affairs, turned to tyrants and Führers. This should be imputed not just to the circumstances of the times and even less to preformed character, but rather to what the French call a déformation professionelle � For the attraction to the tyrannical can be demonstrated theoretically in many of the great thinkers (Kant is the great exception)� (“Martin Heidegger at Eighty” 50) The implication that Heidegger was no worse than other professional thinkers, or even no worse than the history of thinking in general, and that his turn to National Socialism cannot be ascribed to his character or even to his historical context, is at best embarrassing and disappointing� It dovetails with Arendt’s further exculpatory implication in the essay that Heidegger was, like Thales, who was said to have fallen into a well while looking at the stars, too much a philosopher focused on unworldly concerns to navigate the worldly phenome- DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 On Arendt’s Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet 53 non of National Socialism� While the short Thales narrative serves as a specious philosophical exemplum in Arendt’s apologia for Heidegger, I argue that the Goethe line furnishes a literary authority for Arendt’s more equivocal apologia for Brecht� As we have seen, the line “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer” can be understood as saying that poets - similarly to philosophers, it would seem - are not like others and therefore not as guilty when they commit worldly errors� She thus ascribes to Goethe her own invented dictum that poets require a distance from the world but sometimes erroneously attempt to be part of it, and that serves as a reason to forgive, or at least excuse, Brecht’s “sins�” 8 The adages pile up rapidly as Arendt circles the “sins” and their reasons, and the pileup both intensifies the authoritativeness of Arendt’s voice and complicates her claim that the adage about the gods of poetry is the thesis of the essay� Arendt also states, for instance, that Brecht’s attempt to be “just like everybody else,” that is, to be not remote but in-the-world (to use Heideggerian language), “led him into triumph and disaster” ( Men in Dark Times 247)� Is this not the lesson of the essay - that the desire to be like everyone else was the source of Brecht’s disastrous poetry and worldly affiliations - or is that a mere observation or addendum? It seems to be a precept that Arendt wants to settle on, as she affirms, in yet another quote-worthy adage, that “those whose business it is to soar must shun gravity” (211)� What is more, just before Arendt announces that “this is what the case of Bertolt Brecht is likely to teach us,” the previous section concludes, “[In the DDR Brecht] had succeeded in being in the thick of [reality] - and had proved that this is no good place for a poet to be” (247) - another statement of the lesson that poets must be at a remove from the world� She also offers the adage that “a poet is to be judged by his poetry” (212), authoritatively prescribing to us the proper conditions and objects for judgment� The accumulation of adages reflects the impulse to draw authoritative lessons from Brecht; but on the other hand, their accretion exposes the authority-endowing qualities of the adage as such, at the same time that that authority is amplified by Arendt’s poetic tenor and literary allusions� Arendt’s adages declaring that poets must remain at a distance from reality are seemingly inverted in Arendt’s account of Brecht’s commitments to the Communist Party, which, she claims, brought him into error by removing him from reality and the world� She writes that “Brecht’s troubles had started when he became engagé , when he tried to do more than be a voice […] of the world and of everything that was real” (246)� His Communist engagement, in Arendt’s reading, took Brecht away from the world for which he strove to speak� Although the word “engagement” connotes worldliness, in Arendt’s telling his engagement was instead caught up in a false reality� For instance, Arendt recounts how Brecht joined the Communist party and “began to speak of Marx, 54 Karen Feldman DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 Engels, and Lenin as ‘the Classics’” (239)� Brecht’s dedication to the Communist Party involved the erasure of the world’s actual classical tradition� Similarly, his embrace of the quasi-reality of the Communists had the effect of distancing Brecht from “the real,” exchanging the world for a false reality; but then from that false reality he intervened in worldly reality in unprincipled ways� Hence Arendt writes, [T]o be a voice of what he thought was reality had carried him away from the real […]� [W]hen he went into the thick of things, his remoteness as a poet was what he carried, willy-nilly, into the newfound reality� […] [It was] this remoteness from the real […] [that] caused him not to break with a party that killed his friends and allied itself with his worst enemy� (246) In lending his literary skill to depicting reality as understood through the Communist lens, Arendt suggests, Brecht became distant from worldly reality, but without knowing it� That loss of touch with worldly reality, and his immersion into a false ‘engaged’ reality, resulted from Brecht’s loyalty to the Communist Party� We might imagine Adorno agreeing with Arendt on this point, declaring that Brecht, even with his devotion to ‘alienation effects,’ was not dialectical enough in dedicating his art to the cause of Communism, with the result that his literary work did not truly resist reality, which for Adorno is the task of art amid the catastrophe of Enlightenment� Brecht’s literary connection to reality is the basis of yet another Arendtian adage, when, despite her condemnation of the false reality of Communism embraced by Brecht, Arendt defends Brecht’s explicitly Communist play Measures Taken. As Patchen Markell notes, she judges the play to be of good quality, because it tells the truth, even if it defends “unspeakably hideous” behaviors ( Men in Dark Times 242)� With respect to Measures Taken Arendt writes - in a formulation that sounds consummately literary, even biblical - “[Brecht’s] poetic luck did not yet forsake him, because he was speaking the truth” (242)� Arendt’s emphasis on Brecht telling the truth in Measures Taken, and her positive appraisal despite its Communist commitments, suggests a further specification of her “thesis” that might read, “the gods of poetry take revenge on the poet when he sins by not speaking the truth.” The sin of the poets, in this modification, does not consist in adhering to Communism or praising Stalin per se, but in failing to speak the truth� The truth here is the truth of reality, and it is what ensures the play’s good quality� In Markell’s view, Arendt’s quarrel is not with Brecht’s Communism per se, but with his sacrifice of truth. Markell portrays as facile, Cold-War relics the predominant interpretations of the essay, in which the “sins” to which Arendt refers are understood to be Brecht’s praise of Stalin and support of the DDR� DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 On Arendt’s Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet 55 Cold-War readers of Arendt wanted to chalk her objections to Brecht up to anti-Communism, and of course Arendt was opposed to Marxism for deeply philosophical reasons that were not assimilable to “Red Scare” rhetoric� For Markell, the “sin” instead consists in Brecht’s infidelity to reality. But what precisely does it mean for Brecht to be “unfaithful to reality” in a play or poem? Markell suggests that the infidelity is not a matter of facts but of judgment. The “sin” of Brecht’s early anti-Nazi poem, which compares the early Nazi regime to capitalist countries, is its “facile historical analysis” (Markell 529)� If Markell claims that the usual reading of Brecht’s “sins” in Arendt’s rendition is a symptom of Cold-War anti-Communism, his own rendering of Arendt would bring her close to Adorno and Horkheimer, exposing a totalizing, consistent, and false version of reality that covers over reality’s fissures, non-identities, and disanalogies. It is an inviting reading, although it poses an either/ or out of the question of what Brecht’s sins actually were for Arendt� For Arendt’s essay provides ample evidence that Arendt does see Brecht’s sins as his sometime-support for Stalin and the DDR (although whether or to what degree Brecht lent his support is disputed), and not a few of the adages that Arendt generates pertain directly to Brecht’s engagement with Communism� 9 The engagement with Communism, I would argue against Markell, is in Arendt’s view what caused him to depart from truth and reality� For instance, Arendt suggests that when Brecht took his orientation from Marxism, it prevented him from seeing the racism of National Socialism: “[H]e simply refused to recognize what was patent to everybody - that those persecuted were not workers but Jews, that it was race, and not class, that counted” ( Men in Dark Times 243)� Arendt’s conclusion to the essay’s penultimate section further emphasizes the connections between the “sin” of losing touch with worldly reality and the “sin” of complicity with Communist unreality� Arendt states that Brecht “sinned” in his engagement insofar as he “refus[ed] to see […] what was actually happening in his homeland,” and did not “break with a [Communist] party that had killed his friends and allied itself with his worst enemy” (246). In the final section of the essay, further adages emerge when Arendt turns to the special status of the poet� She reminds us of how legal judgment operates; echoing elements from her conclusion to Eichmann in Jerusalem , Arendt declares that “the majesty of the law demands that we be equal - that only our acts count, and not the person who committed them” (248)� The poet, however, seems to have a special status� A poet’s sins, she declares, do not warrant the same treatment as the sins of others� What is more, Arendt here evokes the acts of mercy and forgiveness� The reference parallels the passages on forgiveness in The Human Condition , the prospect of which, Arendt declares, is one condition for acting, since we can never know all the consequences of our actions ( Human Condition 56 Karen Feldman DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 236—43)� In the Brecht essay, forgiveness and mercy are described instead in their difference from law and the inequality they embody. Equality applies to us under the law and deals with acts, whereas forgiveness and mercy are not legal phenomena and accrue to an individual� Arendt therefore forgives Brecht the poet, but his acts of allegiance and complicity with villainous regimes are not forgiven� To grant forgiveness constitutes an unequal treatment of the poet, as Arendt acknowledges� Precisely the issue of the poet’s responsibility and inequality are highlighted in the last and most adage-like of all the adages in the Brecht essay, namely Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi , “What is permitted to Jove is not permitted to an ox�” A truncated translation of this quoted adage even became the title of the version of the Brecht article that was published in the New Yorker , i�e�, “What is Permitted to Jove�” For Arendt this adage explains the “privileges” of the poet, including his requisite distance from reality and the forgiveness we accord him� Arendt incorrectly attributes the line to ancient Rome, an attribution which lends it an air of poetic wisdom, while its quasi-poetic and even ‘folksy’ quality is reinforced by the rhyme Iovi/ bovi � 10 Cicero wrote a similar adage in De Finibus , although he compared what is accorded to cows vs� humans rather than cows vs� gods: aliud bovi, aliud homini � 11 The Roman playwright Terence had earlier written a line that resembles Arendt’s adage metrically, namely, Aliis si licet, tibi non licet [to others it is permitted; but not to you], which in its refusal of permission to the “you” might in turn remind us of Kafka’s grim line, “Unendlich viel Hoffnung - nur nicht für uns [There is plenty of hope-just not for us],” as recounted by Max Brod (Brod 1213)� The adage Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi , however, as is well known, derives not from a Roman source but from Joseph von Eichendorff’s 1826 novella Aus dem Leben eines Taugenichts [Memoirs of a Good-for-Nothing]� The adage appears in a comic moment of the novella, in which the protagonist is impressed by the Latin phrases spouted by a band of pompous students� The confusion of the Roman adage and the nineteenth-century Austrian aphorism is an intriguing error on the part of Arendt� The Roman playwright’s lines express a principle of inequality, specifically what is allowed to whom, and even more specifically what is allowed to others but not to the person for whose benefit the adage is quoted. Eichendorff presumably modified Terence’s line for his novel in order to fashion a parody of wisdom; and Arendt applies Eichendorff’s parodic adage to Brecht, obviously a different playwright and poet, in order to argue that as a great writer Brecht indeed merits a certain forgiveness not accorded to ordinary people� The poet Brecht is compared to Jove as having divine gifts; but he is also an ox when he writes “unspeakably bad verse, worse by far than any fifth-rate scribbling versifier” ( Men in Dark Times 249)� DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 On Arendt’s Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet 57 Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi , even in its scrambled provenance, provides a key to Arendt’s deployment of Goethe’s “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer” and her own adage about the revenge of the gods of poetry� Misattribution aside, for Arendt, the point is that the poet, like divine Jove, has the privilege of remaining distant from the world� For Arendt, however, this privilege comes with a responsibility that is unique to the poet and not shared with others� That responsibility is expressed in yet another key adage invented by Arendt, namely, “It is the poet’s task to coin the words we live by” (249)� Arendt’s loosely deduced interpretations of the Goethe line call attention to the source of the “words we live by” for which Arendt holds the poet responsible� In fact, as I have emphasized, Arendt herself is the one writing, selecting, and interpreting the words that she instructs us to live by; she is the one producing adages and lessons throughout� Her essay demonstrates that any particular line from a play, poem, or novel is only words to live by when taken out of the literary sphere and into the ethical one� Arendt, however, wants to retain a place for literature somehow as the source of our ethics, even where she allows the author a distance from the world, and where she herself crafts authoritative adages that have the feel of literary insight� She thereby covers over the philosopher’s or critic’s agency in drawing out of the poet’s words, or even inventing, her adages to live by� It is the quoting, interpreting, and inventing, with a literary flair, that make her phrasing into adages and thereby makes them authoritative; and this happens ‘in-the-world,’ from which Arendt requires the poet maintain a distance� The excerpting, quoting, and inventing are not the work of the poet, but the work of the judge, critic, or philosopher; and yet the literariness of her adages carries with it the authority of literature� Arendt thus grasps for a quotable adage when discussing Brecht, perhaps more than in her other discussions of poets, because her conflicted views of his poetry and his politics seem to demand an exalted arbiter, an authoritative judgment� In that grasping for an authoritative judgment, she takes the line from Goethe that suits her purpose, although it does so only barely� After all, “Dichter sündgen nicht schwer” does not patently state any of what Arendt draws out of it - that poets cannot be held responsible in the way others are; that they require a distance from the world; and that they would prefer to be like everyone else� Arendt extracts from Goethe’s line her own words by which she implies we all should live, including according poets their Jovelike distance� Her adage about the poets giving us words to live by reveals at least as much about Arendt as about poets� Her grasping for words to live by imputes the adage’s authority to the poetic authors when in fact she produces it herself� 58 Karen Feldman DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 Notes 1 I am grateful to anonymous reviewers at Colloquia Germanica and to Chris Hoffman for attentive and challenging feedback on this essay. 2 To be sure, the volume’s essays were originally composed for different venues and purposes, including as introductions to collected writings, journal articles, book reviews, and addresses� 3 Arendt’s references to Brecht’s politics stand in contrast to her 1975 New Yorker remembrance of W�H� Auden, which compares Auden to Brecht in terms of personal style and historical epoch: “[B]oth belonged to the post- First World War generation, with its curious mixture of despair and joie de vivre, its contempt for conventional codes of behavior, and its penchant for ‘playing it cool’” (“Remembering Wystan H� Auden” 298)� Surprisingly, Arendt calls them both “profoundly apolitical poets” who each became part of a “chaotic political scene” out of what she calls “an irresistible inclination toward being good and doing good” (298)� To call Brecht profoundly apolitical runs against intuition but perhaps sheds light on the earlier New Yorker essay that was republished in Men in Dark Times � Brecht was, in Arendt’s view, not concerned with politics but with society, class, labor, and suffering� The Arendtian version of an idealized public thinking and acting amid and with others is not Brecht’s ideal� 4 The claim that Brecht wrote substantial pro-Stalin poetry is itself the topic of dispute� See essays by John Willett and Anthony Lewis; Markell provides more detail� 5 Arendt names some “exceptions” to this “weak and thin” writing of his later years (213), including the poem “Ach, wie sollen wir die kleine Rose buchen? ” She praises the poem as a meditation on purposelessness, which is of course key to her own analyses of action and freedom� 6 Arendt compares Brecht to Ezra Pound, whose ugly Jew-hatred was in Arendt’s view explainable by his insanity, whereas Brecht’s error was that “he was only a poet, not an insane one” (212)� 7 See Markell 532, for a similar point� 8 This line may also, in contrast, be taken more practically to mean that poets’ sins are never as serious as those of tyrants and murderers� In my view, however, this renders too anodyne Arendt’s references to and critical judgments of Brecht’s worldly engagements� 9 See Men in Dark Times 210, 240, and 249� 10 My thanks to Chris Hoffman for this helpful observation. 11 Cicero, De Finibus , 5�26: “sed naturas esse diversas, ut aliud equo sit e natura, aliud bovi, aliud homini�” DOI 10.24053/ CG-58-0004 On Arendt’s Brechtian Adages and the Sins of the Poet 59 Works Cited Arendt, Hannah� “Bertolt Brecht: 1898-1956�” Men in Dark Times � New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1995� 207—50� —� “What is Permitted to Jove�” The New Yorker 5 Nov� 1966: 68—122� —� “Hermann Broch: 1886-1951�” Men in Dark Times � New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1995� 111—52� —� “Martin Heidegger at Eighty (Book Review)�” The New York Review of Books 21 Oct� 1971: 50 . —� “Isak Dinesen: 1885-1963�” Men in Dark Times � New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1995� 95—110� —� “Remembering Wystan H� Auden, Who Died in the Night of the Twenty-Eighth of September, 1973�” Hannah Arendt: Reflections on Literature and Culture � Ed� Susannah Young-Ah Gottlieb. Stanford: Stanford UP, 2007. 294—302. —� The Human Condition. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2018. Brod, Max� “Der Dichter Franz Kafka�” Die Neue Rundschau 32�7-12 (1921): 1210—16� Gottlieb, Susannah Young-Ah� Introduction� Hannah Arendt: Reflections on Literature and Culture . Ed. Susannah Young-Ah Gottlieb. Stanford: Stanford UP, 2007. xi—xxxi. King, Richard H. “Hannah Arendt and the Uses of Literature.” Raritan 36�4 (2017): 106—24, 171� Kohn, Jerome� “Loyalty as Betrayal: Hannah Arendt’s Judgment of the Poet Bertolt Brecht�” Social Research: An International Quarterly 86�3 (2019): 651—69� Lewis, Anthony� “Brecht’s Politics Stirring Scholars Anew: Briton Calls Essay by Arendt Faulty�” New York Times 28 Mar� 1970: 25 . Markell, Patchen� “Politics and the Case of Poetry: Arendt on Brecht�” Modern Intellectual History 15�2 (2018): 503—33� Pachet, Pierre� “The Authority of Poets in a World without Authority�” Trans� Catherine Temerson� Social Research 74�3 (2007): 931—40� Scott, Joanna Vecchiarelli� Rev� of Hannah Arendt: Reflections on Literature and Culture , by Susannah Young-Ah Gottlieb� Political Theory 37�6 (2009): 845—51� Storey, Ian. “The Reckless Unsaid: Arendt on Political Poetics.” Critical Inquiry 41�4 (2015): 869—92 . Willett, John� “Brecht’s Stalin Poems�” New Statesman 15 June 1979: 869—70 . Willett, John� “The Story of Brecht’s Odes to Stalin�” Times Literary Supplement 26 Mar� 1970: 334—35�
