CHAPTER II

Glacial imagery is not a concept that came late in Celan's life. Rather it surfaces throughout his writings. The word Gletscher first appears in his volume, Von Schwelle zu Schwelle, published in 1955, and again in his last volume Zeitgehöft, published posthumously in 1976. The word Gletscher occurs only eight times. It appears once in its singular form (Gletscher), twice in the plural (Gletschern), four times as part of a compound word either coined by Celan himself or as a terminus technicus (Gletschermilch, Gletschergeschrei, Gletscherstuben and Gletschertischen), and once as an adjective (gletschrig). In his earlier works, the word Gletscher is used quite literally to denote the physical mass of ice and snow, such as in NÄCHTLICH GESCHÜRZT (GW I, 125) where the glacier appears as a literal object, "die Dohlen über dem Gletscher: / dies ist die Gegend, wo / rasten, die wir ereilt:" Later this idea becomes more figurative, such as the poems WARUM DIESES JÄHE ZUHAUSE (GW II, 363) in his volume Schneepart, "Ich kann mich, schau, in dich senken, gletschrig, / du selbst erschlägst deine Brüder:" and DAS FLÜSTERHAUS (GW III, 83) "dieses, ja dieses / Gletschergeschrei / deiner Hände." Here glacial imagery is more figurative in meaning, referring to an idea rather than a concrete object. The same is true with similar words such as Eis, Schnee, Kristall, Firn, Flocken, weiß and kalt. Over time as Celan used these words, either in composite forms or by themselves, they changed from physical representations into abstract concepts.

Glaciers relate to language in literal ways. The sheets of ice that extend off the main glacial body are called "tongues" or "glacial tongues of ice." Similarly, in German they are called Gletscherzungen. These glacial tongues are comparable in a literary sense to man's capacity for speech. As the tongues extend and/or grow further out from the permanent ice sheet, they fluctuate between flow and ablation, depending upon the rate of accumulation. In a similar way, one measures the fluency of a person's speech by the "tongue," suggesting the degree of fluency one has in a certain language. For Celan, the abstract ideas were often just as "real" as the other objects themselves (Glenn 27). It is no surprise that he should use these two ideas of the physical capacity for speech and glacial tongues together, both of which perhaps for him held relevant solidity.

The importance of these glacial images becomes clearer as multivalent meanings within glaciers begin to emerge in Celan's poetry. Glacial density makes this image significant. Snow compacts over time, and the force within the glacier rises several bars of pressure or many times that of normal atmospheric pressure. The pressure becomes so intense that several thousand tons of stress are placed upon a single cubic inch. Crystals and air are fused and compressed into a small amount of space. Probably one of the most remarkable aspects of glacial physiology is the absence of air between the individual grains of snow and ice. As snow and ice grow thicker, layer upon layer, over existing snow, the edges of crystals are sheared off and they become rounder. This leads to a compacting of grains, each edge fitting in tighter and closer to each other. Thus crystals are ground down by pressure and the sheering forces of other watery substances.

This same force emerges within the imagery of Celan's poems. He chose each word carefully and allowed each word, line and stanza to represent as much multi-dimensional imagery as possible. The same overlapping and blending of ideas occurs not only on a glacial or crystallographic plane but also on a linguistic plane. His ideas or images fuse within each other, sometimes forming new ideas, but all the while retaining separate interpretations. The best way to illustrate this phenomenon is to examine his imagery that exhibits layering. The several strata created by the glacier's formation provide not only an ideal representation of the physical matter, but also function as a link to the linguistic.

Glacial Substance

Celan's writings reflect a figurative descent into language, beginning in the macro-sphere and then gradually working down into the micro-sphere. The glaciers act as a paradigm for the larger overall concepts with their individual elements of snow and ice comprising the minutae or finer aspects of his argument. The poem SCHNEEBETT (GW I, 168) effectively demonstrates this descent into glacial language and into the language of snow. This particular poem shows the diminishing of perspective or moving from a large viewpoint to a smaller one.

SCHNEEBETT

Augen, weltblind, im Sterbegeklüft: Ich komm,
Hartwuchs im Herzen.
Ich komm.

Mondspiegel Steilwand. Hinab.
(Atemgeflecktes Geleucht. Strichweise Blut.
Wölkende Seele, noch einmal gestaltnah.
Zehnfingerschatten — verklammert.)

Augen weltblind,
Augen im Sterbegeklüft,
Augen Augen:

Das Schneebett unter uns beiden, das Schneebett.
Kristall um Kristall,
zeittief gegittert, wir fallen,
wir fallen und liegen und fallen.

Und fallen:
Wir waren. Wir sind.
Wir sind ein Fleisch mit der Nacht.
In den Gängen, den Gängen.

A glacier is very rigid in its formation. The word "gegittert" or "latticed" suggests a inflexibility throughout the glacier. This cohesion within ice denotes the possibility of tracking its beginnings and returning to the glacier's foundation. Since all time coexists within glaciers according to this poem: "Wir waren. Wir sind," one can theoretically establish a time in a structured crystal lattice when "we were" and "we are" are used simultaneously; a time where both the present and past coalesce into a uniform, pure whole. These literary motifs fuse into one form and time due to the glacier's internal pressure. The same is true of language where both the signifier and the signified or the word and object are compressed into one concept. The last two lines read: "Wir sind ein Fleisch mit der Nacht. / In den Gängen, den Gängen" (italics added). The reader becomes "one flesh" with the night. There is an absence of light or inference of depth while the individual elements bind to become one. This same binding is what occurs between the language and glaciers. As the glacier compacts ice into a dense form, language is also compressed, although here it manifests itself in a physical, written form. By connecting language with glacial imagery, Celan can later purify the contaminated source of speech and add to the aesthetic power of his images.

Literary Glaciers

Word structures resemble glaciers in many ways. In her work on crystallized structures, Heike Behl, in her unpublished dissertation entitled "'Ohne Zahl sind die Straßen': Wege in die Dichtung Paul Celans," draws a comparison between the lattice-like structure found in crystalline forms and the same structure that Celan employs in his writings. She cites the manner in which his word choice reflects a three-dimensional structure and elaborates upon Aphek and Tobin's comments when they consider word systems three-dimensional, multitextured, and multilayered structures (Behl 20-21). This layering element of height, width, and depth is reminiscent of Celan's glacial imagery. Aphek and Tobin go further to say that the more outstanding features of these word structures is their ability to act "as a prism, a crystal, a form consisting of facets which are parallel to the vertical axis and intersect the horizontal axes. By adjusting this text at different angles to the light, a new spectrum of interpretations is revealed to the hearer/reader: yet the text-prism, the crystallized mass, remains intact as a single, undivided, integral entity" (Aphek 4). In a similar way, ice has refractory properties and deflects the illustrative "light," diffusing the reader's understanding in myriad rays of interpretation. This is one means by which Celan is able to achieve the multivalency of words. A word such as Gletschermilch, for example, can denote either a technical feature of glacier physiology or a figurative milk that emanates from a glacier. By alternating the angle of meaning, his words can range anywhere from the radically literal to the abstract. This endless array of ice crystals forms a compact mass that denotes not only a written text but also, in its most literal sense, the glacier itself. Celan wrote about the importance of glaciers in his prose work GESPRÄCH IM GEBIRG (GW III, 169). The scene is what Theo Buck refers to as a "Seelenlandschaft" or spiritual landscape (Buck 41). What transpires is a conversation between two unnamed Jews, one simply referred to as "Groß" and the other as "Klein." He describes their meeting, when all speech stops, and there is only silence. Even the walking stick and stones cease speaking. But this is only a temporary condition.

Groß kam auf Klein zu, und Klein, der Jude, hieß seinen Stock schweigen vor dem Stock des Juden Groß. So schwieg auch der Stein, und es war still im Gebirg, wo sie gingen, der und jener. Still wars also, still dort oben im Gebirg. Nicht lang wars still, denn wenn der Jud daherkommt und begegnet einem zweiten, dann ists bald vorbei mit dem Schweigen, auch im Gebirg. (GW III, 179)

This silence is not a true silence but only a space in speech. It is still communicative and carries meaning with it. Even the syllables are visible as speech becomes a tangible element. Similar to the coalescing of sound into snow particles, here speech also appears in a visible form: "es schweigt der Stock, es schweigt der Stein, und das Schweigen ist kein Schweigen, kein Wort ist da verstummt und kein Satz, eine Pause ists bloß, eine Wortlücke ists, eine Leerstelle ists, du siehst alle Silben umherstehn; Zunge sind sie und Mund, diese beiden, wie zuvor" (GW III, 170).

As "Groß" and "Klein" discuss their meeting and the distance from whence they came, they converse about the nature of speech and its origin. In their discussion, glaciers not only embody language but also define the source of communication. Speech appears divine in nature as it spills out of the earth. There exists in the water a language filled with colors and meanings. This water then is not intended for human ears but rather for the earth. Its origin from the earth also suggests an unparalleled purity. The language spoken by men and women is a corrupted version of the pure language. Celan here shows the spiritual nature of language by causing the water to come out of the earth where it has been cleft in the middle. This is the true nature of language in its most pure form. For him this concept is foremost since truth stems only from true speech ("Celan and Buber," Lyon 118).

Weißt du. Weißt du und siehst: Es hat sich die Erde gefaltet hier oben, hat sich gefaltet einmal und zweimal und dreimal, und hat sich aufgetan in der Mitte, und in der Mitte steht ein Wasser, und das Wasser ist grün, und das Grüne ist weiß, und das Weiße kommt von noch weiter oben, kommt von den Gletschern, man könnte, aber man solls nicht, sagen, das ist die Sprache, die hier gilt, das Grüne mit dem Weißen drin, eine Sprache, nicht für dich und nicht für mich — denn, frag ich, für wen ist sie denn gedacht, die Erde, nicht für dich, sag ich, ist sie gedacht, und nicht für mich —, eine Sprache, je nun, ohne Ich und ohne Du, lauter Er, lauter Es, verstehst du, lauter Sie, und nichts als das. (GW III, 170-171)

Glaciers stand as the high point in this literary description. The water that comes out of these glaciers is language. It is from "noch weiter oben" that water or language originates. This water acts as the wellspring of language. Lyon states that: "Wasser als lebenbedingendes Element ist ebenfalls in Celans Lyrik für die Entstehung von Sprache oft maßgebend" ("Physiologie," Lyon 602). Celan says elsewhere: "Wo Wasser ist, kann man noch einmal leben," (GW I, 69).

Glacial Composition

Celan uses several groupings of nature in his works. They are darkness, plant imagery, water, and stone. To these might be added images of snow, ice, crystals, and glaciers. Often they overlap or are used together in groups of two or even three, but glacial imagery encompasses all of these images.

Ice and snow's link with death and stillness is brought about by darkness. Where light relates to the capacity of speech, darkness denotes silence or death (Lyon 66). Celan refers to darkness in connection with both death and cold imagery. "TOTENHEMD / Was du aus Leichtem wobst, / trag ich dem Stein zu Ehren. / Wenn ich im Dunkel die Schreie / wecke, weht es sie an." (GW I, 53). In the poem SCHLIERE, the image of ice is carried through the darkness, "ein durchs Dunkel getragenes Zeichen, / vom Sand (oder Eis?)" (GW I, 159). In the poem SCHWARZE FLOCKEN (GW III, 25) Celan uses the imagery of black flakes to denote night's approach, "Schnee ist gefallen, lichtlos." As the snow falls so, too, does darkness, enveloping the land in death and ice.

Plant or organic imagery is another grouping. Celan uses terminology in several of his poems that reflects both inorganic and organic growth. The poem ENGFÜHRUNG (GW I, 195) has many glacial images that resemble organic growth. He suggests this natural growth as the word Keim appears together with the phrase: "es / hing ein Gedanke an Pflanzliches dran" within the poem ENGFÜHRUNG. Similar to a plant's growth, it is necessary for inorganic crystals to have a seed or Keim which acts as a catalyst from which the crystal can grow. Rain and snow occur this same way, the water molecules forming around individual grains of dirt or impurities. According to Behl, the vocabulary of crystallography is determined in a large degree from the field of organic growth. Words present in the organic realm are often present in the inorganic. In ENGFÜHRUNG there are strong indications of both organic and inorganic growth sharing similar vocabulary (Behl 80). Celan uses several words, such as körnig, faserig, stengelig, dicht, strahlig, plattig, klumpig, and locker, that relate directly to the structure of snow and ice as well as to plant imagery.

An, ja,
Pflanzliches.
Ja.
Orkane, Par-
tikelgestöber, es blieb
Zeit, blieb,
es beim Stein zu versuchen — er
war gastlich, er
fiel nicht ins Wort. Wie
gut wir es hatten:
Körnig,
körnig und faserig. Stengelig,
dicht;
traubig und strahlig; nierig,
plattig und
klumpig; locker, ver-
ästelt —: er, es
fiel nicht ins Wort, es
sprach,
sprach gerne zu trockenen Augen, eh es sie schloß. (GW I, 201).

Again Behl explains the importance of these words in relationship to inorganic growth: "Die Ausdrücke 'körnig, faserig, stengelig....' beschreiben eine bestimmte Gruppe der Erscheinungsformen (oder: Trachten) von Mineralien, die Kombinationen 'imperfekter' Kristalle sind, das heißt, die aus mehreren verschiedenen chemischen Substanzen zusammengesetzt sind" (Behl 162-163). The presence of water is also necessary for crystalline growth much as it is for the growth of plants. In the case of inorganic growth, however, the water carries the minerals, which then through evaporation help to form the crystals ("Stone," Lyon 308).

Water imagery is another significant grouping for Celan. Celan himself states in his poem OBEN, GERÄUSCHLOS (GW I, 188) the literary and figurative importance of water: "Wasser: welch / ein Wort." Glaciers contain water in vast amounts and serve as regulators of the earth's weather (Brittanica 734). Glaciers also have a high albedo or high percentage rate of reflectivity. Their white surface reflects much of the radiation and light from the sun back out into space. They also serve as barometers and recorders of natural historical changes.

Rocks form another consequential grouping in glaciers. Often glaciers acquire items from the valley floor ranging from small pebbles to large boulders. It is only later with glacial retreat and/or melting that these items are deposited. Those rocks that remain are called in German erratische Blöcke, or erratic blocks, sometimes known as wandering stones. Celan mentions these figures by their technical name in his poetry. He titles one of his poems ERRATISCH (GW I, 235). This poem relates directly to glacial imagery. He uses words such as Lippe, Silben, and lautlos to also denote language.

ERRATISCH

Die Abende graben sich dir
unters Aug. Mit der Lippe auf-
gesammelte Silben — schönes,
lautloses Rund —
helfen dem Kriechstern
in ihre Mitte. Der Stein,
schläfennah einst, tut sich hier auf:

bei allen
versprengten
Sonnen, Seele,
warst du, im Äther.

Celan, however, operates on many different levels of meaning. The evenings give way to night while entrenching themselves in the poetic voice, yet this can also be symbolic of death. The absence of language and light defines beauty. Here he shows how silence helps the wandering stone out of the middle of the collected syllables. This represents the emergence of pure language once again out of the inner recesses of the figurative glacier of language. As will be shown later, this poem has a definite religious tone as well.

Glacial stones stand as some of the most irrefutable witnesses of a glacier's former presence in a region. They are firm evidence that some force or power carried them there. When comparing glaciers to language, these particular rocks can represent the written record of a glacier's passage; their movement marks the valley floor and wall, leaving lined scorings like those of letters. Spoken language is itself transitory and untouchable. Only with solid and material accounts of what has occurred, such as printed words and recordings, can spoken words be firmly set in the present. Much like writing, these stones can also be seen as verifying the glacier's passage. This inference can be drawn out of the way in which Celan uses glacial rocks as writing implements.

Ice crystals in the form of language appear early in Celan's works. In one poem he writes, "KRISTALL / Nicht an meinen Lippen suche deinen Mund" (GW I, 52). This crystal can represent the sound formed in the human mouth seeking a response from another person. The formation of crystals parallels the formation of our own words and sounds. They, too, are subject to a variety of shapes and inflections.

Language is composed of a vast number of sound combinations. Like glaciers, it is nearly endless in its composition. When each flake is compared to a sound, the glacier represents language with all its distinct sounds and idioms. In the poem A LA POINTE ACÉRÉE Celan refers to rock crystals in a geod: "Es liegen die Erze bloß, die Kristalle / die Drusen. / Ungeschriebenes, zu / Sprache verhärtet, legt / einen Himmel frei" (GW I, 251). However, this same imagery can also apply to ice crystals. These crystals are the solid form language takes. This Ungeschriebenes is that which is not written, or that which is spoken. When language is likened to water or crystals, its written form solidifies into ice.

Glacial Sounds

Not only are figurative sounds trapped within glacial ice as language or speech crystals, but glaciers often generate their own literal sounds. As glaciers react to the environmental changes, whether through accumulation or ablation, they become flexible and move. The shearing forces within, along with stress, cause breakage. This movement, depending upon the glacial speed, generates sounds that range from creaking and groaning of shifting ice to loud explosions signaling calving and fracturing. Celan uses these sounds in the poem, DAS FLÜSTERHAUS (GW III, 83-84 italics added), and calls them a Gletschergeschrei. This is one of the few composite words Celan creates with Gletscher. Here several words such as Flüster, Laut and Lippen refer directly to sounds.

DAS FLÜSTERHAUS,
schalttags geöffnet,

auf Jute
weitergegeben, flächen-
tief,

es bürgert
den Enge-Laut ein,

für die Lallstufe
sorgen
die Lippen-
pflöcke,

— rastet das
Andere ein,
zeitig? —,

dieses, ja dieses
Gletschergeschrei
deiner Hände,

die Toten-Seilschaft
trägt mit an den Firnen,

der umgepolte
Mond
verwirft dich, zweite
Erde,

am Resthimmel, sterbestolz, das
Sterngedränge
nimmt die Hürde.

Other words besides Gletschergeschrei that imply sounds or vocalizations also appear in this poem. The title itself suggests a "whispered residence" where only on "leap days" such as the 29th of February (schalltags geöffnet) is it opened. Other words such as Enge-Laut, and Lallstufe also carry a connotation of sound. But the main theme appears to be the wresting of meaning out of a dead landscape. The word Gletschergeschrei expresses vocalization of an inanimate object. In its most literal form, the Gletschergeschrei implies the sounds accompanying the calving of a glacier. In a certain sense the glacier speaks; the sounds trapped and muted within are finally given free expression. These are the voicings of the Ursprache, or the pure language Celan considers to be deep within the glacier in a crystallized form.

Language can also appear in a physical form like that of glaciers. Just as the destruction which glaciers leave behind as they advance exposes the earth down to the naked bedrock, in Celan's poems it reveals the underlying meanings, by stripping away the superficial covering of language. Clarise Samuels also argues that Celan uses these highly specialized words to strip away the superficial layers that act as facades: "Celan took up this search for meaning, this attempt to delve beneath the surface, using the poem as a tool and regarding it as a form of communication" (Samuels 37). Once these words remove the outer covering, it reveals the true word or Ur-wort within.

The Glacial Ursprache

Celan felt that beneath the superficial definitions of current German words there remained the remnants of an older, undefiled language. He alludes to this hidden and compressed language of the past within glacial word groupings. This pure language, or Ursprache, lies deep within the glacier. One of the ways in which Celan delved into past usage is through destructive means. He employs images of fissures (Spaltungen) as a means of gaining entry to concepts long since covered up. He redefines the limits of the German tongue and changes existing conceptions. As Siegfried Bogumil points out, it was Peter Szondi, who in a detailed analysis of ENGFÜHRUNG first noticed his destructive tendencies (Bogumil 127-128). This same destructive inclination precedes later attempts to reconstitute the German language into a more pure form.

Glaciers represent a history of the German language. History plays a crucial role in Celan's search for the pure language. Much of what he wrote centered around himself and his personal experiences. Every happening from his childhood to the previous day, whether it was a physical occurrence or a mental wandering, was applicable material for his writings. For Celan the past was always present: "Offenbar war nichts für diesen Mann und Dichter vergangen von allem, was er je erlebte, las, sah oder dachte" (Mayer 1158). Buck makes a similar comment about Celan's retentive powers: "Celans Gedächtnisfähigkeit hatte etwas von einem hochdifferenzierten Datenspeicher" (Buck 38). Obscure or obvious references to other happenings in the past make up much of what he wrote.

Celan incorporates the history of language into glacial strata or layers. They stand for past eras of language and show how language can be covered up or convoluted with geological-linguistical movement. Languages change over time. He pictures each era of language as a Schicht or layer in the geological-linguistical perspective. Grimms Deutsches Wörterbuch cites the Lower High German word geschicht or the Latin historia as possible roots for the word Schicht. Celan, who also studied Middle High German, was possibly aware of the connection between these two words ("Last Poem," Felstiner 23). He equates the word Schicht or stratum with that of Geschichte or history. According to Amy Colin, "[Celan] attempts to uncover the history buried in language and make the reader aware of his 'bewitchment by means of words' ("Poetics," Colin 178).

Celan's essay EDGAR JENÉ UND DER TRAUM VOM TRAUME compares the different historical and linguistical strata of language to that of glacial layers. He explains that words are weighed down beneath a thousand-year-old burden, like that of a glacier.

— und wenn ich von der Sprache rede, so ist damit die ganze Sphäre menschlicher Ausdrucksmittel gemeint — weil seine Worte (Gebärden und Bewegungen) unter der tausendjährigen Last falscher und entstellter Aufrichtigkeit stöhnten — was war unaufrichtiger als die Behauptung, diese Worte seien irgendwo im Grunde noch dieselben! So mußte ich auch erkennen, daß sich zu dem, was zutiefst in seinem Innern seit unvordenklichen Zeiten nach Ausdruck rang, auch noch die Asche ausgebrannter Sinngebung gesellt hatte und nicht nur diese! (GW III, 157 emphasis added)

This Last about which Celan speaks can represent the weight and pressure of generations of language. Much like the weight of a glacier, which continues to cover and weigh down the snow of previous eons, language is continually added to while becoming more diverse and replete in history. This weight of language within the glacier compresses the ice mass into an image heavy in cultural meaning and implications.

Celan uses the word stöhnen to describe what language undergoes. Stöhnen implies an active utilization of both sound and pain. The word Stöhnen literally means, according to Wahrig, "schmerzvoll klagen." 4 In his formulation, the entire sphere of human speech grieves under a thousand-year-old burden. In addition, he contends that these words (those under the ancient load) are still the same words as those we use today, but their composition and function has changed and their appearance in some cases has been altered.

The layers of language within the glacier also represent different manners of interpretation. Several critics have shown how a single poem can be perceived in different layers, each approach being unique and correct in its own form. Jerry Glenn stated in a book review that "there are as many approaches to Celan's work as there are literary critics, historians and theoreticians writing about it" ("Review," Glenn 315). Samuels also shows how an interpretive approach to understanding Paul Celan's poems must be made in a multi-layered fashion, each successive layer being peeled away to reveal an ever deeper meaning (Samuels 2). Anders Olsson shows how poems such as SOLVE (GW II, 82) and COAGULA (GW II, 83) operate simultaneously on many different levels (Olsson 273). In order to comprehend a specific poem completely, all levels must be made accessible as well as intelligible. The poem also is subject to time and is susceptible to the interpretation of that period. Poetry, however, is not timeless. Celan recognizes this fact and clarifies its accessibility, "Denn das Gedicht ist nicht zeitlos. Gewiß, es erhebt einen Unendlichkeitsanspruch, es sucht, durch die Zeit hindurchzugreifen — durch sie hindurch, nicht über sie hinweg" (GW III, 186). The poem attempts therefore to "cut through" the different layers and epochs of meaning, "durch die Zeit hindurchzugreifen."

Glacial Colors

Layering occurs not only in glacial strata, but also in the study of light and colors. Celan utilizes colors throughout his works when focusing on glaciers. These visible waves of light play a crucial role in his poems. As mentioned earlier, ice crystals, specifically glaciers, act as prisms. As light passes through their structure, the individual wavelengths are separated and displayed in isolated bands of color. Light refracts differently due to the compact nature of glacial ice. The three most important colors Celan uses with his glacial imagery are blue, white, and green. Each of these colors is present within the glacier, though they appear in different ways. The blue is due to the unique refractory properties of glacial ice. The green characterizes biological organisms found on or within ice. Their growth contributes to a shading of the ice's color. The white is due to snow's composition.

Blue is caused by the nature of glacial ice. This form of ice normally begins as separate ice crystals, but as they become rounded and compacted by the pressure of the snow, their composition changes. With this comes a change in the ice's refractory properties. The density of the ice allows only colors at the lower end of the visible spectrum, such as blue, to be refracted, thereby giving glacial ice its bluish tint. The deeper the bluish hue, the older the ice. The same is applicable to language within the glacier; the deeper one descends into the glacier, the more ancient the language.

White is important in relation to glaciers, since it is the usual color of snow. Technically speaking, it is not a color at all, but rather a blending of all colors in the visible spectrum. The combination of both white and blue within glacial structures makes them even more important. Together, according to Dorothea Forstner in her book Die Welt der Symbole, they form the idea of Unberührtheit, Unabhängigkeit and Reinheit and denote purity and incorruptibility (Forstner 125). They mutually represent an undiluted essence, while sharing an optimistic tone.

The reflection of the entire visible wavelength from an object forms white light. Due to the color of snow, it reflects back all light and all radiation. In a literary sense, glaciers reflect ideas as well. In the poem WEGGEBEIZT (GW II, 31), Celan mentions this reflective quality of glaciers. The first stanza diminishes the importance of language in other contexts as it reflects back the voicings of another's language. True speech cannot descend into the literary glacier. Rather it is the false speech or Meingedicht that is "etched away" by the language of another or one who speaks truth. 5 Only in the second stanza is the pure speech, like that of a snowflake: "Aus- / gewirbelt, / frei," able to make its way down through snowy images and back into the glacial realm of language. There it finds a pure crystallized sound, "ein Atemkristall," that represents the uncorrupted spoken language.

WEGGEBEIZT vom
Strahlenwind deiner Sprache
das bunte Gerede des An-
erlebten — das hundert-
züngige Mein-
gedicht, das Genicht.

Aus-
gewirbelt,
frei
der Weg durch den menschen-
gestaltigen Schnee,
den Büßerschnee, zu
den gastlichen
Gletscherstuben und -tischen.

Tief
in der Zeitenschrunde,
beim
Wabeneis
wartet, ein Atemkristall,
dein unumstößliches
Zeugnis.

The term das bunte Gerede implies an idleness or frivolity in a multi-colored speech that only etches the surface of true meanings. The Strahlenwind could be thought of as a composite of the radioactive rays reflected from the snow's surface and the wind that is generated by the cold air mass of the glacier. Whenever the word Wind appears in Celan's poems, especially in his volume Sprachgitter, one must also consider its use in relation to atomic radioactive winds or the winds that result from a nuclear blast (Janz 74). These winds drive away all superficial speech.

The first stanza of WEGGEBEIZT suggests a diminution of the importance of the "pseudo-experience." When considered together with the German language, the glacier indicates the linguistic and social culture of the German people. Celan appears to denigrate the overall importance of the German language as used by contemporary poets and writers. The combination of the word mein with gedicht suggests a "false poem." This lessening of the poem's importance allows him to reconstruct the language in a more clear form. The term "das hundert- / züngige'" refers then not only to the many glacial tongues that extend off from a glacier, but also to the entire field of languages. Each attempts to approach the truth through a colorful speech, but fails since it defies the pure crystalline language and is only a hundred-tongued false poem.

The color green suggests a destructive as well as constructive potential for Celan in his use of glaciers. Often he uses this color in association with water, the seas in particular. In the poem DAS GESCHRIEBENE (GW II, 75), he places the two together and relates them to language. Here he combines the written word and spoken word with water and color imagery: "DAS GESCHRIEBENE höhlt sich, das / Gesprochene, meergrün, / brennt in den Buchten." This same type of imagery occurs elsewhere showing the connection between water and color. The water revitalizes that which is dead or allows one, through a metaphorical "drinking," to draw from this silence ("Poetry of Paul Celan," Lyon 57). This same combination of words also occurs with snow. "Es fällt auch ein meergrüner Schnee," (GW III, 34 italics added). Here the snow is colored sea-green.

Celan also uses the color green to denote plant life and organic growth. In the poem WAS NÄHT (GW II, 340) green operates with organic and verbal imagery: ". . . ein Wort, mit all seinem Grün, / geht in sich, verpflanzt sich, / folg ihm." The author admonishes his readers to follow this word with its inherent greenness into itself. This combination of images recurs in Celan's essay on language, GESPRÄCH IM GEBIRG (GW III, 170), "und in der Mitte steht ein Wasser, und das Wasser ist grün, und das Grüne ist weiß, und das Weiße kommt von noch weiter oben, kommt von den Gletschern, man könnte, aber man solls nicht, sagen, das ist die Sprache, die hier gilt, das Grüne mit dem Weißen drin, eine Sprache . . ." (italics added). Again color pervades the imagery surrounding language and glaciers.

Celan's purpose in using these three colors is of consequence when one sees the relationship they have with glaciers. Living organisms, such as snow algae, perform a vital aesthetic role. These algae have the three main colors present with which Celan concerns himself: blue, green, and gray or white. Brockhaus Encyclopedia describes Schneealgen in the following manner; "Bezeichnung für einige in den Alpen und Polargebieten auf Altschnee lebende, kälteliebende Blau-, Grün- und Kieselalgen. Durch Massen vermehrung kommt es im Sommer zu charakteristischen Schneeverfärbungen" (Brockhaus 459 italics added).

These colors together imply a more positive, redemptive aspect to glacial imagery. Celan, well aware of their added meanings within and outside of technical vocabulary, utilizes colors to better purify language.

Footnotes:

4) This expression of pain and/or suffering in conjunction with glaciers is more apparent in the poem DAS FLÜSTERHAUS (GW III, 83). In that poem he uses the specific word, Gletschergeschrei or glacial scream or outcry, to make a verbal expression.
5) The word Mein in this sense is a derivative of the Old High German word Meineid which means "to falsely swear." Here the word Mein implies something "false."