offered by Georg Wilhelm Hegel, the departmental chairman and
the most renowned philosopher of the day?
Two hundred eager students crammed into Hegel`s course,
whereas only five came to hear Schopenhauer describe himself as
an avenger who had come to liberate post–Kantian philosophy
from the empty paradoxes and the corrupting and obscure language
of contemporary philosophy. It was no secret that Schopenhauer`s
target was Hegel and Hegel`s predecessor, Fichte (remember, the
philosopher who had begun life as a gooseherd and walked across
all of Europe in order to meet Kant). Obviously, none of this
endeared the young Schopenhauer to Hegel or to the other faculty
members, and when no students at all materialized for
Schopenhauer`s course the following semester his brief and
reckless academic career was over: he never again gave a public
lecture.
In his thirty years at Frankfurt until his death in 1860,
Schopenhauer adhered to a regular daily schedule, almost as
precise as Kant`s daily routine. His day began with three hours of
writing followed by a hour, sometimes two, of playing the flute.
He swam daily in the cold Main River, rarely missing a day even
in the midst of winter. He always lunched at the same club, the
Englisher Hof, dressed in tails and white tie, a costume that was
high fashion in his youth but conspicuously out of style in mid–nineteenth century Frankfurt. It was to his luncheon club that any
curious person wanting to meet the odd and querulous philosopher
would go.
Anecdotes about Schopenhauer at the Englisher Hof abound:
his enormous appetite, often consuming food for two (when
someone remarked upon this, he replied that he also thought for
two), his paying for two lunches to ensure no one sat next to him,
his gruff but penetrating conversation, his frequent outbursts of
temper, his blacklist of individuals to whom he refused to speak,
his tendency to discuss inappropriate shocking topics—for
example, praising the new scientific discovery that allowed him to
avoid venereal infection by dipping his penis after intercourse into
a dilute solution of bleaching powder.
Though he enjoyed serious conversation, he rarely found
dining companions he deemed worthy of his time. For some time,
he regularly placed a gold piece on the table when he sat down and
removed it when he left. One of the military officers that usually
lunched at the same table once asked him about the purpose of this
exercise. Schopenhauer replied that he would donate the gold piece
for the poor the day that he heard officers have a serious
conversation that did not entirely revolve around their horses,
dogs, or women. During his meal he would address his poodle,
Atman, as «You, Sir,” and if Atman misbehaved he redressed him
by calling him «You Human!»
Many anecdotes of his sharp wit are told. Once a diner asked
him a question to which he simply responded, «I don`t know.» The
young man commented, «Well, well, I thought you, a great sage,
knew everything!» Schopenhauer replied, «No, knowledge is
limited, only stupidity is unlimited!» A query to Schopenhauer
from or about women or marriage elicited without fail an acerbic
response. He was once forced to endure the company of a very
talkative woman, who described in detail the misery of her
marriage. He listened patiently, but when she asked if he
understood her, he replied, «No, but I do understand your
husband.»
In another reported exchange he was asked if he would
marry.
«I have no intention to get married because it would only
cause me worries.»
«And why would that would be the case?»
«I would be jealous, because my wife would cheat on
me.»
«Why are you so sure of that?»
«Because I would deserve it.»
«Why is that?»
«Because I would have married.»
He also had sharp words to say about physicians, once
remarking that doctors have two different handwritings: a barely
legible one for prescriptions and a clear and proper one for their
bills.
A writer who visited the fifty–eight–year–old Schopenhauer
at lunch in 1846 described him thus:
Well built...invariably well dressed but an outmoded
cut...medium height with short silvery hair...amused and
exceedingly intelligent blue–flecked eyes...displayed an
introverted and, when he spoke, almost baroque nature,
whereby he daily supplied considerable material to the cheap
satire of...the table company. Thus, this often comically
disgruntled, but in fact harmless and good–naturedly gruff,
table companion became the butt of the jokes of insignificant
men who would regularly—though admittedly not ill–meaningly—make fun of him.
After lunch Schopenhauer habitually took a long walk, often
carrying on an audible monologue or a conversation with his dog
which elicited jeers from children. He spent evenings reading alone
in his rooms, never receiving visitors. There is no evidence of
romantic relationships during his years in Frankfurt, and in 1831,
at the age of forty–three, he wrote in «About Me,” «The risk of
living without work on a small income can be undertaken only in
celibacy.»
He never saw his mother after their break when he was
thirty–one, but twelve years later, in 1813, they began to exchange
a few business–related letters until her death in 1835. Once when
he was ill, his mother wrote a rare personal comment: «Two
months in your room without seeing a single person, that is not
good, my son, and saddens me. A man cannot and should not
isolate himself in that manner.»
Occasional letters passed back and forth between Arthur and
his sister, Adele, in which she again and again tried to move closer
to her brother, all the while offering reassurances that she would
never make demands on him. But he repeatedly backed away.
Adele, who never married, lived in great despair. When he told her
of moving from Berlin to escape cholera, she wrote back that she
would have welcomed getting the cholera which would have put an
end to her misery. But Arthur pulled away even farther, absolutely
refusing to be drawn into her life and her depression. After Arthur
left home, they saw each other only once, in 1840, in a brief and
unsatisfactory meeting, and Adele died nine years later.
Money was a continual source of concern throughout
Schopenhauer`s life. His mother left her small estate to Adele, and
Adele died with virtually no remaining estate. He tried, in vain, to
get a job as a translator, and until the very last years of his life his
books neither sold nor were reviewed by the press.
In short, Arthur lived without any of the comforts or rewards
that his culture held so necessary to equilibrium, even to survival.
How did he do it? What price did he pay? These, as we shall see,
were the secrets he confided to «About Me.»
