The Sufferings of Young Werther: A New Translation by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Author:Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2011-11-14T00:00:00+00:00

The Editor to the Reader

HOW DEVOUTLY I wish that enough documents in his own hand concerning the last remarkable days of our friend had been left to us so as to render it unnecessary for me to interpose my narrative in the sequence of the remaining letters.

I have gone to great lengths to collect accurate reports from the lips of those in a position to be well acquainted with his history; it is a simple one, and all accounts of it are in agreement, barring a few insignificant details; it is only about the cast of mind of the persons closely involved that opinions differ and judgments diverge.

What can we do but relate conscientiously all that we were able to glean after repeated efforts, intercalating the letters the departed left behind, never neglecting the slightest slip of paper we found, especially given the difficulty of discovering the truly genuine, the authentic motives behind even a single action when it is found among persons who are not of the common stamp.

Indignation and displeasure became more and more deeply rooted in Werther’s soul, growing ever more tightly entangled and gradually taking possession of his entire being. The harmony of his mind was completely devastated, an internal heat and violence, which labored to confuse all his natural powers, produced the most repellent effects and finally left him with nothing but an exhaustion from which he sought to rise with even greater anxiety than when he had struggled with all the woes of his past. The dread in his heart sapped his remaining intellectual strength, his vivacity, his wit; he became a sorry companion, always more unhappy, and always more unfair the unhappier he grew. At least Albert’s friends say as much; they claim that Werther—who, so to speak, consumed his total assets every day, only to suffer want and deprivation in the evening—was not competent to judge a blameless, quiet man who had arrived at the happiness he had long yearned for or to question the manner in which he sought to preserve his happiness in the future.—Albert, they say, had not changed in so short a time; he was still the same man whom Werther had known from the beginning, whom he had so highly esteemed and respected. He loved Lotte more than anything in the world, he was proud of her and wanted to have her acknowledged by everyone as the most splendid of women. Hence, could he be blamed for also wanting to avoid every trace of suspicion at a moment when he had no desire to share his exquisite possession with anyone, even in the most innocent fashion? They admit that Albert often left his wife’s room when Werther was with her, but not out of hatred or aversion for his friend, but simply because he felt that Werther was inhibited by his presence.

Lotte’s father had fallen ill and was confined to his room; he sent his carriage for her, and she drove out to him. It was a fine winter’s day, the first heavy snow had fallen, covering the region.

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