Letters to a young poet.docx
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Letters to a young poet.docx
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Letterstoayoungpoet
LettersToAYoungPoet
byRainerMariaRilke
1,
Paris
February17,1903
DearSir,
Yourletterarrivedjustafewdaysago.Iwanttothankyouforthegreatconfidenceyouhaveplacedinme.ThatisallIcando.Icannotdiscussyourverses;foranyattemptatcriticismwouldbeforeigntome.Nothingtouchesaworkofartsolittleaswordsofcriticism:
theyalwaysresultinmoreorlessfortunatemisunderstandings.Thingsaren'tallsotangibleandsayableaspeoplewouldusuallyhaveusbelieve;mostexperiencesareunsayable,theyhappeninaspacethatnowordhaseverentered,andmoreunsayablethanallotherthingsareworksofart,thosemysteriousexistences,whoselifeenduresbesideourownsmall,transitorylife.
Withthisnoteasapreface,mayIjusttellyouthatyourverseshavenostyleoftheirown,althoughtheydohavesilentandhiddenbeginningsofsomethingpersonal.Ifeelthismostclearlyinthelastpoem,"MySoul."There,somethingofyourownistryingtobecomewordandmelody.Andinthelovelypoem"ToLeopardi"akindofkinshipwiththatgreat,solitaryfiguredoesperhapsappear.Nevertheless,thepoemsarenotyetanythinginthemselves,notyetanythingindependent,eventhelastoneandtheonetoLeopardi.Yourkindletter,whichaccompaniedthemmanagedtomakecleartomevariousfaultsthatIfeltinreadingyourverses,thoughIamnotabletonamethemspecifically.
Youaskwhetheryourversesareanygood.Youaskme.Youhaveaskedothersbeforethis.Yousendthemtomagazines.Youcomparethemwithotherpoems,andyouareupsetwhencertaineditorsrejectyourwork.Now(sinceyouhavesaidyouwantmyadvice)Ibegyoutostopdoingthatsortofthing.Youarelookingoutside,andthatiswhatyoushouldmostavoidrightnow.Noonecanadviseorhelpyou-noone.Thereisonlyonethingyoushoulddo.Gointoyourself.Findoutthereasonthatcommandsyoutowrite;seewhetherithasspreaditsrootsintotheverydepthsofyourheart;confesstoyourselfwhetheryouwouldhavetodieifyouwereforbiddentowrite.Thismostofall:
askyourselfinthemostsilenthourofyournight:
mustIwrite?
Digintoyourselfforadeepanswer.Andifthisanswerringsoutinassent,ifyoumeetthissolemnquestionwithastrong,simple"Imust",thenbuildyourlifeinaccordancewiththisnecessity;yourwholelife,evenintoitshumblestandmostindifferenthour,mustbecomeasignandwitnesstothisimpulse.ThencomeclosetoNature.Then,asifnoonehadevertriedbefore,trytosaywhatyouseeandfeelandloveandlose.Don'twritelovepoems;avoidthoseformsthataretoofacileandordinary:
theyarethehardesttoworkwith,andittakesagreat,fullyripenedpowertocreatesomethingindividualwheregood,evenglorious,traditionsexistinabundance.Sorescueyourselffromthesegeneralthemesandwriteaboutwhatyoureverydaylifeoffersyou;describeyoursorrowsanddesires,thethoughtsthatpassthroughyourmindandyourbeliefinsomekindofbeautyDescribeallthesewithheartfelt,silent,humblesincerityand,whenyouexpressyourself,usetheThingsaroundyou,theimagesfromyourdreams,andtheobjectsthatyouremember.Ifyoureverydaylifeseemspoor,don'tblameit;blameyourself;admittoyourselfthatyouarenotenoughofapoettocallforthitsriches;becauseforthecreatorthereisnopovertyandnopoor,indifferentplace.Andevenifyoufoundyourselfinsomeprison,whosewallsletinnoneoftheworld'ssound-wouldn'tyoustillhaveyourchildhood,thatjewelbeyondallprice,thattreasurehouseofmemories?
Turnyourattentiontoit.Trytoraiseupthesunkenfeelingsofthisenormouspast;yourpersonalitywillgrowstronger,yoursolitudewillexpandandbecomeaplacewhereyoucanliveinthetwilight,wherethenoiseofotherpeoplepassesby,farinthedistance.Andifoutof,thisturningwithin,outofthisimmersioninyourownworld,poemscome,thenyouwillnotthinkofaskinganyonewhethertheyaregoodornot.Norwillyoutrytointerestmagazinesintheseworks:
foryouwillseethemasyourdearnaturalpossession,apieceofyourlife,avoicefromit.Aworkofartisgoodifithasarisenoutofnecessity.Thatistheonlywayonecanjudgeit.So,dearSir,Ican'tgiveyouanyadvicebutthis:
togointoyourselfandseehowdeeptheplaceisfromwhichyourlifeflows;atitssourceyouwillfindtheanswerto,thequestionofwhetheryoumustcreate.Acceptthatanswer,justasitisgiventoyou,withouttryingtointerpretit.Perhapsyouwilldiscoverthatyouarecalledtobeanartist.Thentakethatdestinyuponyourself,andbearit,itsburdenanditsgreatness,withouteveraskingwhatrewardmightcomefromoutside.ForthecreatormustbeaworldforhimselfandmustfindeverythinginhimselfandinNature,towhomhiswholelifeisdevoted.
Butafterthisdescentintoyourselfandintoyoursolitude,perhapsyouwillhavetorenouncebecomingapoet(if,asIhavesaid,onefeelsonecouldlivewithoutwriting,thenoneshouldn'twriteatall).Nevertheless,eventhen,thisselfsearchingthatIaskofyouwillnothavebeenfornothing.Yourlifewillstillfinditsownpathsfromthere,andthattheymaybegood,rich,andwideiswhatIwishforyou,morethanIcansay.
WhatelsecanItellyou?
Itseemstomethateverythinghasitsproperemphasis;andfinallyIwanttoaddjustonemorebitofadvice:
tokeepgrowing,silentlyandearnestly,throughyourwholedevelopment;youcouldn'tdisturbitanymoreviolentlythanbylookingoutsideandwaitingforoutsideanswerstoquestionsthatonlyyourinnermostfeeling,inyourquietesthour,canperhapsanswer.
ItwasapleasureformetofindinyourletterthenameofProfessorHoracek;Ihavegreatreverenceforthatkind,learnedman,andagratitudethathaslastedthroughtheyears.WillyoupleasetellhimhowIfeel;itisverygoodofhimtostillthinkofme,andIappreciateit.
Thepoemthatyouentrustedmewith,Iamsendingbacktoyou.AndIthankyouoncemoreforyourquestionsandsinceretrust,ofwhich,byansweringashonestlyasIcan,IhavetriedtomakemyselfalittleworthierthanI,asastranger,reallyam.
Yoursverytruly,
RainerMariaRilke
2,
Viareggio,nearPisa(Italy)
April5,1903
Youmustpardonme,dearSir,forwaitinguntiltodaytogratefullyrememberyourletterofFebruary24.Ihavebeenunwellallthistime,notreallysick,butoppressedbyaninfluenza-likedebility,whichhasmademeincapableofdoinganything.Andfinally,sinceitjustdidn'twanttoimproveIcametothissouthernsea,whosebeneficencehelpedmeoncebefore.ButIamstillnotwell,writingisdifficult,andsoyoumustacceptthesefewlinesinsteadoftheletterIwouldhavelikedtosend.
Ofcourse,youmustknowthateveryletterofyourswillalwaysgivemepleasure,andyoumustbeindulgentwiththeanswer,whichwillperhapsoftenleaveyouempty-handed;forultimately,andpreciselyinthedeepestandmostimportantmatters,weareunspeakablyalone;andmanythingsmusthappen,manythingsmustgoright,awholeconstellationofeventsmustbefulfilled,foronehumanbeingtosuccessfullyadviseorhelpanother.
TodayIwouldliketotellyoujusttwomorethings:
Irony:
Don'tletyourselfbecontrolledbyit,especiallyduringuncreativemoments.Whenyouarefullycreative,trytouseit,asonemorewaytotakeholdoffife.Usedpurely,ittooispure,andoneneedn'tbeashamedofit;butifyoufeelyourselfbecomingtoofamiliarwithit,ifyouareafraidofthisgrowingfamiliarity,thenturntogreatandseriousobjects,infrontofwhichitbecomessmallandhelpless.SearchintothedepthsofThings:
there,ironyneverdescendsandwhenyouarriveattheedgeofgreatness,findoutwhetherthiswayofperceivingtheworldarisesfromanecessityofyourbeing.ForundertheinfluenceofseriousThingsitwilleitherfallawayfromyou(ifitissomethingaccidental),orelse(ifitisreallyinnateandbelongstoyou)itwillgrowstrong,andbecomeaserioustoolandtakeitsplaceamongtheinstrumentswhichyoucanformyourartwith.
AndthesecondthingIwanttotellyoutodayisthis:
Ofallmybooks,Ifindonlyafewindispensable,andtwoofthemarealwayswithme,whereverIam.Theyarehere,bymyside:
theBible,andthebooksofthegreatDanishpoetJensPeterJacobsen.Doyouknowhisworks?
Itiseasytofindthem,sincesomehavebeenpublishedinRecalm'sUniversalLibrary,inaverygoodtranslation.GetthelittlevolumeofSixStoriesbyJ.P.JacobsenandhisnovelNielsLyhne,andbeginwiththefirststoryintheformer,whichiscared"Mogens."Awholeworldwillenvelopyou,thehappiness,theabundance,.theinconceivablevastnessofaworld.Liveforawhileinthesebooks,learnfromthemwhatyoufeelisworthlearning,butmostof&Ulovethem.Thislovewillbereturnedtoyouthousandsuponthousandsoftimes,whateveryourlifemaybecome-itwill,Iamsure,gothroughthewholefabricofyourbeing,asoneofthemostimportantthreadsamongallthethreadsofyourexperiences,disappointments,andjoys.
IfIweretosaywhohasgivenmethegreatestexperienceoftheessenceofcreativity,itsdepthsandeternity,therearejusttwonameswouldmention:
Jacobsen,thatgreat,greatpoet,andAugusteRodin,thesculptor,whoiswithoutpeeramongallartistswhoarealivetoday.
Andallsuccessuponyourpath!
Yours,
RainerMariaRilke
3
Viareggio,nearPisa(Italy)
April23,1903
Yougavememuchpleasure,dearSir,withyourEasterletter;foritbroughtmuchgoodnewsofyou,andtheway
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