Something far different than the norm for me this month and it’s novella-length, yet published as a book. This particular work is I think significant not only for its text but also for who its author was, when it was published and its significance as a parable for the rise of the Nazis. Ernst Jünger was a highly decorated soldier, a militarist and a political figure of the conservative right. Yet he was also opposed to the Nazis and was indirectly implicated in the famous Operation Valkyrie plot against Adolf Hitler’s life. This of course made him a more polarizing and fascinating person. The book itself is set in an idyllic fictional land that is described in such a dreamlike way that it may well be considered fantasy. The story itself is short and simple but is rife with symbolism that can be interpreted in any number of ways.
The narrative is recounted in the first person by an unnamed protagonist who was a former soldier and now lives as an amateur botanist in a retreat on top of the titular marble cliffs. He is accompanied there by his brother Otho, the narrator’s young son Erio and their housekeeper Lampusa who is also Erio’s grandmother. There they live a life fit for paradise, the region’s food and frolic with their peers. The two brothers document the local flora of the area, venturing out to collect samples and writing down their discoveries, delighting in the intellectual and spiritual satisfaction their work brings and seemingly have no monetary worries. But the narrator is aware of a malicious force that threatens their way of life. The charismatic Head Forester is gathering outlaws, savages and the depraved in the dark forests on the fringes of the land. Through fear and taking advantage of the complacency of polite society, he is slowly undermining the institutions of what passes for government in order to take over and destroy all that is beautiful and noble.
This is short for a book but the text is very dense and packed with detail. As is so often pointed out it’s really more of a poem than a novel or even painting a picture with words. The opening chapter is the best example as it describes the lands of the Grand Marina where the narrator lives as well as their leisurely lifestyle in florid, almost excessive detail. Jünger luxuriates in lengthy descriptions of a world that is clearly inspired by his real life and loves with all his heart. Every effort is made to impress upon the reader what a paradise this realm is, at least to those with the noble disposition and the intellectual capacity to recognize it as such. When disaster arrives, you’re meant to grieve the loss and the destruction alongside the narrator. He spares no words to describe the gory horror brought on by the Head Forester. There is no dialogue at all. The narrator simply recounts the gist of discussions when they happen without relating the actual words that are said, resulting in a distancing effect. As intended, this feels like a song or epic poem from another age than your usual story.
I’m no historian so it would be impossible for me to understand the significance of this book without relying on the analyses that have been written about it. It’s not just that Jünger predicted the Nazis’ rise to power and warned about the threat of charismatic demagogues, he also anticipated that the regime would set up concentration camps and that one day it would fall. Yet true to his past and his political values, he is not someone we would sympathize with today. After all, this book was not initially banned in Nazi Germany because Hitler was a personal fan of his previous work. In his world, there is a clear demarcation between the elite nobility and the peasant masses. It is the masses, together with the criminal and unsavory elements of society, who fall under the influence of the demagogic Head Forester and revert to barbarism. It is traditionally the role of the nobility to protect the land against such dangers, but they have been exhausted by the last war and let down by sophisticated intellectuals who lack true conviction. Right to the end, he exalts the fallen prince and maintains that it is they who will return to restore the nation to glory.
From my own limited perspective, this somewhat reminds me of the work of J.R.R. Tolkien. Both describe a faraway, mythical land that is threatened by a rising dark power and both elevate a subset of people above the rest, nobler in demeanor and purer in spirit. I believe it’s not a coincidence as they’re from the same era and even roughly the same class of educated elite intellectuals. It’s difficult for me to say that this was a book that I really enjoyed. The ideal life that Jünger so valorizes is not mine and I find it extremely off-putting that his lifestyle depends on the labor of those he decries as peasants while showing that they are easily misled by the Head Forester. Meanwhile he elevates his own work of recording and categorizing plants to something akin to touching the divine. It seems that it is precisely the fact that the work has no immediate utility that it is especially prized. I’ve read interpretations that Jünger not being religious himself preferred to look to the beauty of nature as a psychological defense against the horrors the Nazis would inflict upon the world. So I didn’t like reading this and I don’t agree with it, but I have to admire the intellectual achievement of writing it.
As always, it’s good to expand my reading horizons and certainly this one is very different from my usual fare. It actually took a fair amount of time and effort even though the book is short as I had to force myself to slow down and actually pay attention to all the details of Jünger. I expect that this is just as the author would have wanted. I don’t think I got much out of it as all of the separate analyses did the heavy lifting but it is worthwhile to experience prose like this.