Mephistopheles takes Faust on a journey through ancient Greek mythology, conjuring for him the beautiful Helen of Troy, as well as the classical gods. Faust falls in love with and marries Helen, embodying for Goethe his 'imaginative longing to join poetically the Romantic Medievalism of the germanic West to the classical genius of the Greeks'.

Zusatztext " One of those great works of literature into which a writer has been able to combine his ranging preoccupations and understanding as he worked." -A. S. Byatt, from the Preface Informationen zum Autor Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Klappentext In this sequel to Faust , Mephistopheles takes Faust on a journey through ancient Greek mythology, conjuring for him the insurpassably beautiful Helen of Troy, as well as the classical gods. Faust falls in love with and marries Helen, embodying for Goethe his 'imaginative longing to join poetically the Romantic Medievalism of the germanic West to the classical genius of the Greeks'. Further to the themes of redemption and salvation in this great drama, are Goethe's eerie premonitions of modern phenomena such as inflation and the creation of life by scientific synthesis. For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators. Leseprobe Dedication One Wavering forms, you come again; once long ago you passed before my clouded sight. Should I now attempt to hold you fast? Does my heart still look for phantoms? You surge at me! Well, then you may rule as you rise about me out of mist and cloud. The airy magic in your path stirs youthful tremors in my breast. You bear the images of happy days, and friendly shadows rise to mind. With them, as in an almost muted tale, come youthful love and friendship. The pain is felt anew, and the lament sounds life's labyrinthine wayward course and tells of friends who went before me and whom fate deprived of joyous hours. They cannot hear the songs which follow, the souls to whom I sang my first, scattered is the genial crowd, the early echo, ah, has died away. Now my voice sings for the unknown many whose very praise intimidates my heart. The living whom my song once charmed are now dispersed throughout the world. And I am seized by long forgotten yearnings for the solemn, silent world of spirits; as on an aeolian harp my whispered song lingers now in vagrant tones. I shudder, and a tear draws other tears; my austere heart grows soft and gentle. What I possess appears far in the distance, and what is past has turned into reality. Prelude in the Theater Manager, Dramatic Poet, Comic Character. Manager You two who often stood by me in times of hardship and of gloom, what do you think our enterprise should bring to German lands and people? I want the crowd to be well satisfied, for, as you know, it lives and lets us live. The boards are nailed, the stage is set, and all the world looks for a lavish feast. There they sit, with eyebrows raised, and calmly wait to be astounded. I have my ways to keep the people well disposed, but never was I in a fix like this. It's true, they're not accustomed to the best, yet they have read an awful lot of things. How shall we plot a new and fresh approach and make things pleasant and significant? I'll grant, it pleases me to watch the crowds, as they stream and hustle to our tent and with mighty and repeated labors press onward through the narrow gate of grace; while the sun still shines--it's scarcely four o'clock-- they fight and scramble for the ticket window, and as if in famine begging at the baker's door, they almost break their necks to gain admission. The poet alone can work this miracle on such a diverse grou...

Autorentext

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Klappentext

In this sequel to Faust, Mephistopheles takes Faust on a journey through ancient Greek mythology, conjuring for him the insurpassably beautiful Helen of Troy, as well as the classical gods. Faust falls in love with and marries Helen, embodying for Goethe his 'imaginative longing to join poetically the Romantic Medievalism of the germanic West to the classical genius of the Greeks'. Further to the themes of redemption and salvation in this great drama, are Goethe's eerie premonitions of modern phenomena such as inflation and the creation of life by scientific synthesis.

For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.

Leseprobe
Dedication One
Wavering forms, you come again;
once long ago you passed before my clouded sight.
Should I now attempt to hold you fast?
Does my heart still look for phantoms?
You surge at me! Well, then you may rule
as you rise about me out of mist and cloud.
The airy magic in your path
stirs youthful tremors in my breast.
You bear the images of happy days,
and friendly shadows rise to mind.     
With them, as in an almost muted tale,
come youthful love and friendship.
The pain is felt anew, and the lament
sounds life's labyrinthine wayward course
and tells of friends who went before me
and whom fate deprived of joyous hours.
They cannot hear the songs which follow,
the souls to whom I sang my first,
scattered is the genial crowd,
the early echo, ah, has died away.     
Now my voice sings for the unknown many
whose very praise intimidates my heart.
The living whom my song once charmed
are now dispersed throughout the world.
And I am seized by long forgotten yearnings
for the solemn, silent world of spirits;
as on an aeolian harp my whispered song
lingers now in vagrant tones.
I shudder, and a tear draws other tears;
my austere heart grows soft and gentle.
What I possess appears far in the distance,
and what is past has turned into reality.

Prelude in the Theater
Manager, Dramatic Poet, Comic Character.*
Manager*
You two who often stood by me
in times of hardship and of gloom,
what do you think our enterprise
should bring to German lands and people?
I want the crowd to be well satisfied,
for, as you know, it lives and lets us live.
The boards are nailed, the stage is set,
and all the world looks for a lavish feast.    
There they sit, with eyebrows raised,
and calmly wait to be astounded.
I have my ways to keep the people well disposed,
but never was I in a fix like this.
It's true, they're not accustomed to the best,
yet they have read an awful lot of things.
How shall we plot a new and fresh approach
and make things pleasant and significant?
I'll grant, it pleases me to watch the crowds,
as they stream and hustle to our tent  
and with mighty and repeated labors
press onward through the narrow gate of grace;
while the sun still shines--it's scarcely four o'clock--
they fight and scramble for the ticket window,
and as if in famine begging at the baker's door,
they almost break their necks to gain admission.