I The Protagonists
IN 1913 on the
hill in Dornach near Basel, Switzerland, construction had begun on the
building then known as the Johannesbau and later to be called
the Goetheanum, the central headquarters of the anthroposophical
movement. Members of the Anthroposophical Society from all parts of the
world had been called upon to work on the building, and they were joined
by a growing number of others who moved to Dornach, either permanently or
temporarily, on their own initiative. Thus a unique center of
anthroposophical activity developed in Dornach, a center that was,
understandably enough, burdened with the shortcomings and problems
unavoidable in such a group.
In the summer of 1914, these
difficulties escalated when World War I broke out, since people from
many different nations, including those at war, had to work together
and get along with each other. Isolation from the rest of the world
and, last but not least, both local and more widespread opposition to the
building and the people it attracted, further complicated the situation.
In spite of all obstacles, however, the building continued to grow under
the artistic leadership of Rudolf Steiner, who was well-loved as a teacher
and felt by all to be a bulwark of constancy. But in the summer of 1915
all this changed as a result of incidents that threatened to test the
Dornach group, and thus the Anthroposophical Society as a whole, to
the breaking point.
Rudolf Steiner's marriage
to Marie von Sivers at Christmas of 1914 had provoked not only general
gossip, but also some bizarre mystical behavior on the part of a member
named Alice Sprengel.
[ Note 1 ]
Heinrich Goesch (see below) and his wife Gertrud seized upon her strange
ideas and made use of them in personal attacks on Rudolf Steiner. Since
this was done publicly in the context of the Society, Rudolf Steiner asked
that the Society itself resolve the case. This resulted in weeks of
debate, at the end of which all three were expelled from the Society.
Rudolf and Marie Steiner did not take part either in the debates or
in the decision to rescind their membership.
The documents that follow
reconstruct the events of the case in the sequence in which they occurred.
Alice Sprengel (b. 1871
in Scotland, d. 1949 in Bern, Switzerland) had joined the Theosophical
Society in Munich in the summer of 1902, at a time when Rudolf Steiner
had not yet become General Secretary for Germany. She joined the German
Section a few years later. In a notice issued by the Vorstand
of the Anthroposophical Society in the fall of 1915 informing members
about the case, Miss Sprengel is described as having undergone unusual
suffering in her childhood. At the time of her entry into the Society,
she still impressed people as being very dejected. In addition, she
was unemployed at that time and outwardly in very unfortunate circumstances.
For that reason, efforts were made to help her.
Marie Steiner, then Marie
von Sivers, sponsored her involvement in the Munich drama festival in
1907 and arranged for her to be financially supported by members in
Munich. In order to help her find a means of supporting herself in line
with her artistic abilities, Rudolf Steiner advised her on making symbolic
jewelry and the like for members of the Society. It was also made possible
for her to make the move to Dornach in 1914. She, however, interpreted
this generous assistance to mean that she had a significant mission
to fulfill within the Society. Having been given the role of Theodora
in Rudolf Steiner's mystery dramas fed her delusions with regard to
her mission, as did the fact that toward the end of the year 1911, in
conjunction with the project to construct a building to house the mystery
dramas, Rudolf Steiner had made an attempt to found a “Society
for Theosophical Art and Style” in which she had been nominated
as “keeper of the seal” because of her work as an artist.
She imagined having lived through important incarnations and even believed
herself to be the inspirer of Rudolf Steiner's spiritual teachings.
In addition, having been asked to play Theodora gave rise to the delusion
that she had received a symbolic promise of marriage from Rudolf Steiner,
and she then suffered a breakdown as a result of Rudolf Steiner's marriage
to Marie von Sivers at Christmas 1914. Her letters to Rudolf Steiner
and Marie Steiner, reproduced below, clearly reveal that she was deeply
upset.
Letter from Alice Sprengel to Rudolf Steiner
(undated; received December 25, 1914. Cf. p. 159.)
“Seven years now have
passed,”
[ Note 2 ]
Dr. Steiner, since you appeared to my inner vision and said to me,
“I am the one you have spent your life waiting for; I am the one
for whom the powers of destiny intended you.”
You saw the struggles and
doubts this experience occasioned in me; you knew that in the end my
conviction was unshakable — yes, so it is. And you waited for
my soul to open and for me to speak about this. Yet I remained silent,
because my heart was broken. Long before I learned of theosophy, but
also much more recently, I had had many experiences that made me say,
“I willingly accept whatever suffering life brings me, no matter
how hard it may be. After all, I have been shown by the spirit that
it cannot be different.” But this is something that seems to go
beyond the original plan of destiny; I lack the strength to bear it,
and so it kills something in me, destroys forces I should once have
possessed. These experiences were mostly instances of people deliberately
abusing my confidence, and all in the name of love. But I had the feeling
that this was not only my own fault; it seemed as if the will of destiny
was inflicting more on me than I could bear.
I had some vague idea of
why that might be so. Once, some years ago, I heard a voice within me
saying, “There are beings in the spiritual world whose work requires
that human beings sustain hope, but they have no interest in seeing
these hopes fulfilled — on the contrary.” At that point
I was not fully aware of what we were later to hear about the mystery
of premature death, of goals not achieved, and so forth.
Then, however, I bore within
me a wish and a hope that seemed like a proclamation from the spiritual
world. This wish and this hope had made it possible for me to bear the
unbearable; they worked in me with such tremendous force that they carried
me along with them. My soul was in such a condition, however, that it
could neither relinquish them nor tolerate their fulfillment, or, to
put it better, it could not live up to what their fulfillment would
have demanded of it. Thus I could not come to clarity on what the above-mentioned
experience meant for me as an earthly human being. Neither the teaching
nor the teacher was enough to revive my soul; that could only be done
by a human being capable of greater love than any other and thus capable
of compensating for a greater lack of love.
I can no longer remain silent;
it speaks in me and forces me to speak. Years ago I begged you for advice,
asked for enlightenment, and your words gave me hope and comfort. I
am grateful for that, but today I would no longer be able to bear it.
Why did you say to me recently that I looked well, that I should persevere?
Did you think I was already aware of the step you are taking now, and
that I had already “gotten over it”? I was as far from that
as ever.
In conclusion, I ask that
you let Miss von Sivers read this letter.
Alice Sprengel
* * *
Letter from Alice Sprengel to Rudolf Steiner
Arlesheim
February 3, 1915
Dear Dr. Steiner,
This will probably be my
last letter to you; I will never turn to you again, neither in speaking
nor in writing. I only want to tell you that I see no way out for myself;
I am at my wits' end. As the weeks gone by have showed me, it is inconceivable
that time will alleviate or wipe out anything that has happened; it
will only bring to light what is hidden. Until now I have more or less
managed to conceal how I feel, but I will not be able to do so indefinitely.
I feel a melancholy settling in on me; being together with others and
feeling their attentiveness is a torment to me, but I also cannot tolerate
being alone for any length of time. I feel that everything that was
to develop in me and flow into our movement through me has been buried
alive.
My life stretches ahead
of me, but it is devoid of any breath of air that makes life possible.
And yet, in the darkest hour of my existence, I feel condemned to live
— but my soul will be dead. Desolation and numbness will alternate
with bouts of pain. I cannot imagine how the tragedy will end. It is
likely, though, that I will show some signs of sorrow in weeks to come,
and it may well be that I will say and do things that will surprise
me as much as anyone else. I do not have the feeling that my words will
arouse any echo in you. I feel as if I were talking to a picture. Since
that time early on in those seven years when I stood bodily in front
of you and you appeared to me as the embodiment of the figure that had
been revealed to my inner vision, you have become unreal to me. Then,
your voice sounded as sweet and comforting as my own hopes. You restored
my soul with mysterious hints and promises that were so often contradicted
in the course of events. And when my soul wanted to unfold under that
radiant gaze of yours in which I could read that you knew what had happened
to me, something looked at me out of your eyes, crying “This is
a temptation.”
The most terrible thing
was to have what stood before me in visible human form become unreal
to me. And yet, I had the feeling that there was something real behind
all this. I do not know what power makes your essential being a reality
for me. You know that I have struggled for my faith and will continue
to do so as long as there is a glimmer of life in me. You also know
how I have pleaded with that Being whose light and teachings you must
bring to those who suffer the terrible fate of being human, pleaded
that whatever guilt may flow on my account may not disturb you in your
mission, and I have the feeling that I have been heard. Nevertheless,
the shadow of what has happened to me will fall across your path, just
as it will darken my future earthly lives. That shadow will also fall
across the continued existence of our movement and upon the destiny
of our building. If the mystery dramas are ever performed again, you
will have to have another Theodora, and since I will never be able to
come to terms with what has happened, the very doors of the temple are
closed to me in future. I wonder if, under these circumstances, there
will ever again… I do not need to finish the sentence.
I sense that, on an occult
level, this is a terrible state of affairs. Is there no way out?
Only a miracle can help
in this case.
I am well aware that deliverance
is possible, and if it were not to come, it would be terrible, and not
only for me.
Let me tell you a story
by way of conclusion, the story of the “sur gardienne.”
[ Note 3 ]
During the preparations
for the plays during the summer of 1913, I noticed that you were not
satisfied with me, and when it was all over I felt like a sick person
who knows the doctor has given up on her. That feeling never left me
from then on, and I could tell you of many instances, especially in
recent months, when I felt a deathly chill come over me although your
words actually sounded encouraging. The feeling grew stronger whenever
I encountered anyone who knew what lay ahead. Why do I feel as if someone
had slapped me in the face? Don't they all look as if they were part
of a plot? That's what came to mind on many occasions, but I was relatively
cheerful then and put it out of my mind. But all this is just a digression.
Two summers ago, shortly
before the rehearsals began, I read La Sur Gardienne.
I had always assumed that Miss von Sivers would play the title role.
On reading it, however, I began to doubt that the role would suit her;
in fact, it seemed to me that she would not even want to play that part.
And then I noticed how the figure came alive within me — it spoke,
it moved in me. It was my role. If only I were allowed to play it! I
saw what it would mean to me, and it was too beautiful to be true. Then
invisible eyes looked at me, and I heard, “They will not give
you that part, so resign yourself.” In my experience, that voice
had always been correct. In view of the existing situation, I said to
myself, “Dr. Steiner knows as well as I do that I had this experience;
he must have good reasons for arranging things this way in spite of
it — and as far as Miss von Sivers is concerned, I must have been
mistaken — the whole thing must simply be another one of the incomprehensible
disappointments that run like a red thread through my life.”
My soul collapsed; I behaved
as calmly as I could, but that did not seem to be good enough. Your
behavior as well as Miss von Sivers' was totally incomprehensible to
me. They were looking everywhere for someone, anyone, to take the title
role, and no one seemed to think of me; anyone else seemed more desirable.
And yet people were making comments about how strange it was that I
had nothing to do in that play. I held back, because at one point I
was really afraid I would have to play a different role. Performances
have been more or less the only occasions in my life where I could breathe
freely, so to speak, where I could give of myself. But that was only
true when I played parts that lived in me, like Theodora and Persephone.
But when a role didn't sit well with me, it increased the pressure I
was living under for quite some time. That is why I was not as unconcerned
about these things as others might be; for me it was a matter of life
and death. In the midst of all this tension something befell me that
I had already experienced countless times before in many different situations
and against which I have always been defenseless. My soul crumples as
soon as it happens. Once again, “it” looked at me and said,
“This is a lesson for you!” (or sometimes it said “a
test” or “an ordeal”).
I felt the effects in my
soul of countless experiences, repeated daily, hourly, going back to
my earliest childhood. I do not know why my surroundings have always
been tempted to participate wrongfully in my inner life. Only here and
only very recently have I been able to ward this off, but it has forced
me into complete isolation. What my foster parents, teachers, playmates,
friends, and even strangers used to do to see what kind of a face I
would make or to guess at how I would react! And much more than that.
As I said, these experiences were so frequent that I could not deal
with them; they suffocated me. Mostly I took it all calmly, thinking
they didn't know any better. Now, however, in the situation I described,
these semi-conscious memories played a trick on me — and I was
overcome by anger. And then this summer, a year later, I had to relive
the whole thing. And it occurred to me that I should have told you about
what went before it.
As I said, those words “This
is a lesson for you” always made me stiffen and freeze. When I
look back on my life, it seems as if a devilish wisdom had foreseen
all the possibilities life would bring to me in these last few years,
and as if this intelligence had done its utmost to make me unfit for
them. I could watch it at work, and yet was powerless to do anything.
Much could be said about why that happened. But nothing in my own soul
or in any single soul could ever help me over this abyss. Only the spark
leaping from soul to soul, the spark that is so weak now, so very weak,
can make the miracle happen now…
February 5
I have just read over what
I wrote, and now I wonder, is it really all right for everything to
happen as I described? That is how it would have to happen if everything
stays as it is now. But don't we all three feel how destiny stands between
us? Can it really be that there is one among us who does not know what
has to happen next? That will bring many things to light; the course
of events to come depends on what had been one person's secret. This
is truly a test, but not only for me. What was hidden shall be revealed.
I still have one thing to
say to you, my teacher and guide: even though the tempter looks out
of your eyes, there have been times when I experienced with a shudder
that what was revealed to me also meant something to you, something
that has not been given its due. However, this must happen and will
happen — you know that well, and so does
The Keeper of the Seal
* * *
Excerpt from a letter from Alice Sprengel to Marie Steiner
(undated; received on August 21, 1915. Cf. p. 139 and p. 160.)
I know that people who have
“occult experiences” are a calamity as far as the people
in positions of responsibility in our movement are concerned, and understandably
so, but still, that is what our movement is there for — to come
to grips with things like that.
The relationship between
you and Dr. Steiner is not the point right now; no, it is the relationship
between you and myself. However, your civil marriage unleashed a disaster
for me, one that I had feared and seen coming for years — not
in its actual course of events, you understand, but in its nature and
severity. That is to say, for years I had seen something developing
between my teacher and me, something to which we can indeed apply what
we have heard in the last few days, though not for the first time. It
has a will of its own and laws of its own and cannot be exorcised with
any clever magic word. As I said, I had sufficient self-knowledge to
know what had to come if nothing happened to prevent it.
Three years ago, like a
sick person seeking out a physician, I asked Dr. Steiner for a consultation.
There was something very sad I had to say during that interview, and
I have had to say it frequently since then: Although I could follow
his teachings, I could not understand anything of what affected me directly
or of what happened to me. I must omit what brought me to the point
of saying this, since I do not know how much you know about my background
and biography. I was not able to express my need, and Dr. Steiner made
it clear that he did not want to hear about it. The following summer,
however, we were graced with the opportunity to perform
The Guardian of the Threshold;
in it a conversation takes place between Strader
and Theodora, a conversation that reflected in the most delicate way
the very thing that was oppressing me. Perhaps Dr. Steiner did not “intend”
anything of the sort; nevertheless, it is a fact. Perhaps it was meant
as an attempt at healing. I do not understand…
* * *
The next letter, written
by an Englishwoman who was living at the Goetheanum at the time, characterizes
Alice Sprengel from a different point of view:
Letter from Mary Peet to Alice Sprengel
[ Note 4 ]
Arlesheim, October 1915
Dear Miss Sprengel,
I cannot let the time pass
without writing to tell you how greatly shocked I am at your disgraceful
behavior to Doctor Steiner — and also to Mrs. Steiner.
I have truly always thought
of you as a rather delicate and hysterical looking [sic] person, but
I little imagined to what depths your evidently hysterical nature could
lead you.
Your illusive hope of becoming
a prominent person in our society not having been realized has been
too much of a disappointment for your nature. This kind of thing happens
every day, in that disappointed young women fall into all sorts of hysterical
conditions, which give rise to all sorts of fantastical dreams. In this
case the most holy things have been mixed with false illusions arising
from much vanity, self-pride, and the desire for greatness!
To one who pictures herself
to be the reincarnation of David, and of the Virgin Mary, very little
can be said, for if one starts with such suppositions, one necessarily
places oneself almost beyond the pale of reason and logic.
A dog will not bite the
hand that has fed it for years — you have not shown the fidelity
of a dog in that you have turned all your hatred and spite against the
one who has given you all that has brought life into your existence,
both spiritually and physically, for you have been beholden to him and
his friends for your subsistence.
And now, because you are
thoroughly disappointed, you have tried and are trying your best to
injure him with every subtle untruth and insinuation, engendered by
those thoughts which have entered your imaginative brain.
Doctor Steiner is beloved,
revered, and respected; his life is an example to all. He has been able
through his power of logic and clear and right thinking to feed us with
the bread of Wisdom and Life, and has truly been a Light-bringer to
us all.
I implore you to listen
to reason before it is too late! Try to examine yourself for one hour
and perceive the cause of all the fearful self-deception from which
you are suffering. Beware of the awful figure of HATE, called up by
your jealousy and consequent disappointment!
You cannot undo
the past, but you can try to redeem the lost opportunities
you have had by refraining from showing more and more clearly the picture
that many can see — to which you are apparently quite blind up
till now — namely, that of jealous woman suffering from ingratitude,
disappointment, and hysterical illusions!
O Man! Know Thyself!
Truly,
[signed Mary Peet]
* * *
Heinrich Goesch (b. 1880
in Rostock, d. 1930 in Konstanz) was a man of many talents and interests
who was already a Ph.D. and LL.D. at age twenty. His name also appeared
once in December 1900 on the list of those present at a meeting of the
Berlin literary society Die Kommenden. Financial support from
parents and relatives enabled him to lead a life that allowed him to
pursue numerous interests. Except for the last years of his life, when
he lectured on art at the Dresden Academy of Arts and Crafts, he had
never actually practiced a profession, presumably for reasons of health.
According to a report by the psychiatrist Friedrich Husemann, Goesch
had suffered from a very early age from epilepsy or seizure substitutes
(absences). An expert witness reports having experienced one of Goesch's
heaviest seizures.
[ Note 5 ]
Goesch had come into contact
with psychoanalysis in 1908 or 1909 while living with his wife (a cousin
of Kathe Kollwitz) and his brother Paul, a painter, in Niederpoyritz
near Dresden, where they were engaged in studying architecture, aesthetics,
and philosophy. Paul Fechter, a journalist who was a friend of the Goeschs
at that time, reports the following in his memoirs:
[ Note 6 ]
Such was the world that greeted the dawning of psychoanalysis.
One day Heinrich Goesch made the acquaintance of one of its earliest
adepts, the son of a professor in Graz, who had made the teachings
of Sigmund Freud, which at that time had not yet been widely popularized,
the basis of his whole life. Goesch took him along to Niederpoyritz,
where in endless nightly sessions the young doctor initiated the two
brothers into the secrets of the new doctrine. As a result, Heinrich
and Paul Goesch, consistent and logical in all their intellectual
pursuits, were not content with the theory, but set about putting
it into practice. They not only listened to what their guest had to
offer, they tried it out on themselves and anything else they could
get their hands on. They analyzed themselves and others and staged
complex-resolutions by night until Niederpoyritz rebelled and their
reputation rivaled that of young Schlegel in Jena.
All that would have made
no difference; rumors get started and then fade away again. The effect
on Paul Goesch, however, was disastrous—his thin-skinned psyche
cracked under these experiments. Analysis, it seems, had eliminated
certain inhibitions he needed in order to maintain a secure hold on
life. Shortly after the doctor's visit, he entered a mental hospital
for the first time…
The “doctor”
whose name Fechter does not reveal was Otto Gross, private lecturer
in psychopathology at the University of Graz and one of Freud's first
pupils. Unlike Freud, who used psychoanalysis simply as a method of
medical treatment, Gross, by applying it in social and political contexts
as well, tried to make it the underlying basis of everyday life. His
efforts eventually brought him into conflict with all existing social
structures. As a drug addict, he became a patient of C. G. Jung at the
Burghoelzli in Zurich and in that capacity played a certain role in
the professional disagreements between Jung and Freud. Later, at the
instigation of his father, Hans Gross (professor of criminology at Graz),
he was declared legally incompetent and spent most of the rest of his
life in mental hospitals.
[ Note 7 ]
In his obituary of Heinrich
Goesch, Fechter has this to say about Goesch's relationship to psychoanalysis:
When Otto Gross first introduced him to the as yet
relatively unknown psychoanalytic method of Sigmund Freud, Heinrich
Goesch recognized it immediately as a means of extending his personal
experience into unfathomed depths. He took up this new subject passionately,
not as a theoretical, conceptual, or abstract object of study and
experience, but plunging with his whole being and all the strength
he possessed into this stream that opened up before him and led into
new depths. He did not study psychoanalysis, he experienced it through
and through, making himself the object of his own analysis, descending
into the shocks and ecstasies of the darkness that opened up in front
of him with a total disregard for how it might affect his everyday
existence. At once, he began to pull the theory out of the realm of
science and into his immediate personal experience. It was a very
dangerous experiment…
[ Note 8 ]
Goesch became acquainted
with Rudolf Steiner's anthroposophy around 1910. Shortly thereafter,
he became a member of the German Section of the Theosophical Society,
led at that point by Rudolf Steiner as General Secretary. He had been
recommended by the physician Max Asch, who wrote to Rudolf Steiner on
April 27, 1910.
[ Note 9 ]
For the last two weeks or so, I have been involved
in a lively and personal exchange of ideas with a Mr. Heinrich Goesch,
Ph.D., who seems to me predestined for occult training. He is one
of the most highly gifted people I have ever met, and about one year
ago had unusual inner experiences that occurred as part of a state
of ecstasy lasting about a week, which leads me to assume that his
case would be of particular interest to you, too. He has recently
immersed himself in the study of your works
Theosophy,
An Outline Of Occult Science,
etc.), and the unbelievable quickness
with which he grasps these things leads me to suspect that he has
undergone some form of occult schooling in an earlier incarnation
— apparently a specifically Christian one, given the nature
of his ecstatic experiences. Mr. Goesch will attend your lecture tomorrow
evening; if you wish, I will introduce him to you. He wants to become
a member of the Theosophical Society immediately.
The lecture in question
took place on April 28, 1910, in the Berlin House of Architects. Its
title was “Error and Mental Disorder.”
[ Note 10 ]
On April 30, 1910, Asch wrote to Rudolf Steiner again:
Heinrich Goesch, Ph.D.,
about whom I wrote to you, would be very grateful if you would find
an opportunity to speak with him soon. He would like to attend your
lectures in Hamburg, since they are related to an area he has researched
with particular interest in the last few years. Therefore, he would
like to become a member of the Theosophical Society as soon as possible.
Mr. Goesch lives in Charlottenburg…
A short time after Heinrich
Goesch and his wife Gertrud became members, the construction of a building
to serve as its central headquarters became a focal point of the Society's
activity. Goesch was very interested in architecture and in 1912 made
some suggestions about the design of the building. This interest, it
seems, was also what led him to come in the spring of 1914 to Dornach,
where work on the Johannesbau (first Goetheanum) had begun
in fall of 1913.
These facts from the biography
of Goesch, who, as Paul Fechter puts it, displayed “a personal
and unique combination of logic and mysticism,” make it somewhat
understandable why he would jump into the Sprengel case with typical
passionate energy. According to the psychiatrist Friedrich Husemann,
epileptics characteristically combine egocentricity with a disproportionate
sensitivity to personal affront and a tendency to complain. On the basis
of these changes in their affective life, it is easy for them to develop
delusions, and a certain affinity must have developed between Goesch's
delusions and those of Alice Sprengel. Goesch formulated his thoughts
in a long and elaborate letter (dated August 19, 1915) to Rudolf Steiner,
who read it to the Dornach circle on August 21, 1915, in place of his
usual Saturday evening lecture.
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