45 pages • 1 hour read
Rainer Maria RilkeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Brigge is a writer. As well as writing the notebook that constitutes the novel, he claims to have written other works that were, by his own admission, poorly received. Brigge believes that these attempts at writing failed because he lacks the knowledge and maturity needed to tackle the impossible complexity of life. The more he learns about the world and the more he tries to infuse this knowledge into his writing, the more he comes to realize that life is so incredibly complicated that there is no possible way for his writing to be a truly accurate portrayal of the world. Brigge’s notes are his attempt to deal with this issue. Rather than fitting this complexity into a conventional narrative with a beginning, middle and end, Brigge simply catalogues every thought and observation that comes to him without regard to their order or cohesiveness.
Rilke was one of Europe’s foremost Modernist poets, and the style of The Notebooks reflects the Modernist concept that life and experience are nonlinear; language must break its traditional narrative and linguistic constraints to create an authentic expression. Brigge’s failure as an author is as much a commentary on the failure of traditional narrative as it is on Brigge’s lack of literary skill. The Notebooks enacts the Modernist philosophy that everything constitutes life. As such, Brigge’s experiences in the poor slums of Paris must be included next to the stories of his mother reading to him. The stories of his trip to a Roman amphitheater must be included next to his discussions of parables from the Bible. Each entry in the notebook is important, and none is more important than the others. Imposing an order on the notes would destroy their authenticity because they would no longer represent Brigge’s lived, emotional experience. The sheer complexity of life means that everything must be included but this necessity makes traditional literary narrative impossible.
Rilke, via Brigge, sets himself the task of accurately portraying the complexity of life. Brigge believes that this is the only credible goal of a writer, but as he continues to fail, he becomes increasingly frustrated. As with Modernist aesthetics, the emotion dictates the form. The nature and style of Brigge’s entries change to reflect his growing frustration. Brigge becomes exhausted with documenting every horrific detail of his life in Paris. Rather than telling the audience about the depths of his suffering, he turns to the periods in his life which have led him to this point. His memories begin to dominate the text, and he vanishes into nostalgia in an attempt to escape his present. Here, again, he encounters the problem of impossible complexity. Much like his present situation, Brigge's childhood is filled with alienating and unknowable experiences. He suffers traumatic losses of family members, he sees ghosts pass by the dinner table, and falls in love with his aunt. In these memories, he is searching for some tangible connection to the world that he might be able to replicate in his present. Unfortunately for Brigge, each memory only prompts more questions. The more he remembers his mother, for example, the more he remembers the pain of her death. Each thought begets more thoughts, until his memories spiral out of control and leave him deeply unsatisfied and no surer of himself than before. Rilke shows that traditional narrative is unequipped to deal with this level emotional, psychological, and experiential complexity. The form of The Notebooks is more akin to poetry than novelistic fiction; poetry makes connections through language, image, and inference rather than through causally connected plot points. Brigge is unable to find the cause of his present state, and therefore he cannot create a narrative of his life.
Brigge’s turn to the Bible and history solidifies his inability to represent his own story through conventional narrative. The entries in which he describes the life of King Charles VI and discusses the story of the prodigal son are examples of Brigge turning to already formed narratives to frame his story because portraying his life experience has become too overwhelming. He looks to major works of history, culture, and religion to understand himself and others, but in doing so, he changes the trajectory of the entries, destroying the possibility of narrative cohesion. Even though Brigge desperately tries to discover the emotional truth of his life and connect with others, each attempt takes him on a different tangent, further from the center of his original concern. This is the ultimate problem of Brigge's project: Until he understands himself, he will never understand the world around him, but his inner life is infinitely complex. Until then, every search will only lead him back to himself. Brigge's attempt to understand the lives of others only reveals to him how little he knows about his own life.
The opening entries in Brigge's notebook portray the desperate poverty on the streets of Paris in the early 20th century. Brigge wants to document the suffering he observes in the world around him, with the vague hope of drawing attention to the misery of the working people who are everywhere around him. Brigge imbues himself with this purpose for two reasons. Firstly, he is from a wealthy background, and he feels a sense of social responsibility to ensure that the poor people of the world should have as many opportunities as he once had (and which he may well have squandered). Secondly, he feels a need to distinguish himself from the impoverished masses. Brigge is now a poor man. He lives in a rundown apartment and struggles to make any money. His clothing is on the edge of disrepair, and he worries that he will soon no longer be admitted to the cafes and restaurants which he enjoys. On his current trajectory, Brigge seems destined to join the ranks of Paris's poorest and most desperate people. Until that moment, however, Brigge feels a need to separate himself from them. He donates money to the poor, not because he can afford to or because he pities them but because he needs to reinforce the social distinction between those who give charity and those who accept charity. Brigge needs to consider himself a member of the former group even if he will inevitably be a part of the latter very soon. Brigge wants to help the poor in a similar fashion, because by documenting and sympathizing with a group of desperate people, he is able to distinguish himself from them. He wants to be the observer, not the observed. He is the writer, not the subject. Brigge's desire to document the poor people of Paris contains within it his fear that he will soon be among them. Placing himself in the position of agency vis-à-vis the people he documents allows him to maintain his sense of privilege, which is one of the few positive things from his childhood and family with which he identifies.
Added to this, Brigge feels a writerly compulsion to understand suffering. Many of his encounters with the poor people of Paris horrify him. The injured, the unwell, and the intimidating people of the streets scare Brigge and leave him feeling constantly anxious. Yet he feels the need to continually subject himself to this suffering. Brigge's sense of social responsibility is infused with a subtle self-loathing. He knows that he is a failed writer, and he feels utterly alienated from the society he hopes to portray. To punish himself for these failures, he seeks out evermore horrifying situations which he can include in his notebook. Brigge does not believe himself to be worthy of happiness or contentment. As a result, the poverty and the misery of the world make excellent subjects for his writing because he can create a self-sustaining loop of failure and punishment while convincing himself that he is performing a social good.
Ultimately, the poverty that Brigge describes in his notebook is completely alienating. The contrast between his privileged upbringing and the poverty of his adulthood is the proximity of others. Even when accounting for the emotional distance between Brigge and many members of his family, he has no such relationships as an adult. He is surrounded by people but completely alone. He reads in a busy library but vanishes into his book. He hears the man in the neighboring apartment through the thin walls, but he knows nothing about him. He helps an injured man on the street, but the man throws off his assistance and vanishes into the crowd. Poverty has the effect of driving Brigge away from the world. Even if he is closer to people in a physical sense, he is emotionally separated from everyone around him. The truly destructive element of poverty, as described by Brigge, is the way in which it dismantles social relationships and forces everyone into a desperate and dehumanizing struggle for survival.
As well as realistically portraying the poverty Brigge encounters in Paris, his notebook entries also describe the paranormal and the occult. These passages are related to his childhood, in which he shares memories of the dark, gothic castle where he meets his family. Brigge’s aunts and uncles consult spiritualists before they make decisions while the family dinners are interrupted by the arrival of the ghost of a dead family member. These interactions with the occult are treated with a vague sense of embarrassment, but they are not considered out of the ordinary. After seeing a ghost, for example, the family members sheepishly shift in their seats and continue with their dinner. They do not want to do discuss what they have seen, to the extent that they treat the supernatural as an awkward extension of the natural world. Ghosts are a slightly embarrassing reality in the Danish castle, rather than a strange presence from a world beyond. The family’s avoidant reaction illustrates their fundamental problem with communication. No one is willing to talk or engage with each other, even when something strange happens. They are marked by their awkward silence.
The silence between the family members in reaction to the occult hints at the deeper meaning of the ghosts in the narrative. They are not malevolent and do not demand acknowledgment. They simply pass through the world, reminding the living of their existence. In this respect, ghosts are a metaphor for unresolved familial trauma. Memories of Brigge’s mother haunt him, for example, but mostly in a symbolic manner. The ghosts are the manifestations of this symbolic haunting, appearing to the living to remind them of their failures and their flaws. The occult presence in the novel is more indicative of the problems with the living than the dead. Ghosts are a manifestation of unresolved mistakes and errors which, despite the obvious presence of the dead at family gatherings, the family seems unable to resolve.
The depiction of the occult parallels the suffering Brigge witnesses in the present. In Paris, Brigge documents the harsh effects of poverty in Paris. The contrast between the ghosts in the dining rooms of Danish castles and the misery of hundreds of thousands of Parisians prompts the audience to ask which is the real malaise haunting society, the undead spirits or class inequality. The occult provides a comparison and a contrast to the very real problems of poverty in society, showing the world that something must be done about this very real and very problem which—unlike the occult—is not beyond the scope of human intervention.
By Rainer Maria Rilke