Snow and ice function just as vitally in Celan's poetry as do glaciers. They embody the smaller aspects of language. Snow not only carries a negative connotation, as some of Celan's critics suggest, in some cases it works as a positive force. Thomas Mann wrote of snow's effect upon the body and psyche in his book Der Zauberberg in the chapter entitled "Schnee." He describes the purity and peace the snow conveys. There snow has both redemptive as well as potentially destructive properties. One of the main characters, Hans Castrop, tells of the inner tranquility he feels while out in the snow and in nature. It is here that he receives a vision, though he also nearly loses sight of the potentially damaging effect of the cold.
Es schneite still. Alles verschwamm mehr und mehr. Der Blick, in ein wattiges Nichts gehend, brach sich leicht zum Schlummer. Ein Frösteln begleitete den Augenblick des Hinüberganges, doch gab es dann kein reineres Schlafen als dieses hier in der Eiskälte, dessen Traumlosigkeit von keinem unbewußten Gefühl organischer Lebenslast berührt wurde, da das Atmen der leeren, nichtig-dunstlosen Luft dem Organismus nicht schwerer fiel als das Nichtatmen der Toten (Mann 652).
In a similar fashion, coldness and snow bring a sense of finality or death in Celan's work. But this is not necessarily negative. Rather the release from the senses allows for a melding and merging of thought and form. As Thomas Mann describes this "pure sleep" that carries one over into another existence, so, too, Celan uses the imagery of glacial snow or Firn along with the image of Schläfen, a word denoting the temples of the forehead and also reminiscent of the word Schlaf, to convey an image of a cold, redemptive sleep. In the poem SCHIEF (GW II, 173) he specifically states: "und das Gehörlose an dir, / drüben, beim Schläfenfirn / blüht sich jetzt aus. . .". This sleep of glacial snow becomes a place where impurities such as salt are extracted out of the earth. The term "ausblühen" means to extract salt out of mines by means of water. What remains is silence or "das Gehörlose." The stillness in the cold replaces the confusion of language; sleep in glacial snow becomes the realm of clarity.
This technique of combining the physical with the abstract is not new to Celan. Even the title of his first collection of poems, Mohn und Gedächtnis, combines the physical with the inner senses. The same melding of mind and matter continues throughout many of his works. Behl comments on this tendency: "Celan spielt damit erneut auf die Konkretheit seiner Gedichte an, in der die Wörter zwar mehrdeutig sind, aber trotz alle Bedeutungsfülle immer im Bereich des Sinnlichen bleiben" (Behl 41). This multifaceted tendency of his language allows for many different meanings to be drawn from an overall paradigm.
Words such as Eis, Schnee, and Gletscher increase in frequency in Celan's later works, where their usage becomes increasingly more complex. In her book Holocaust Visions, Samuels discusses the importance of snow and ice and its development in Celan's poetry: "The ice motif is used repeatedly in Lichtzwang with the mention of such phenomena as "charming" frosts and frozen eyelashes, among others: "frostgebänderten Käfern" (GW II, 287); "gesömmerter Schnee" (GW II, 293); "Grenzschnee" (GW II, 296); "leise bestrickenden Frost" (GW II, 302); "der Eisbewimperte" (GW II, 323)" (Samuels 53). The Schneepart volume, which follows Lichtzwang, shows how important snow became for Celan toward the end of his life. Schneepart, published posthumously in 1971, generally portrays an icy landscape "where a perpetual winter, a neo-ice age, has descended upon the planet, and what is left of civilization lies buried and frozen" (Samuels 50-51).
Snow crystals are a mixture of material and emptiness. Celan sees them as analogous to language. In a dedicatory note to Hans Mayer in a copy of his volume Sprachgitter, Celan wrote the following: "Urgründe des Alls sind die Atome und das Leere, alles andere ist nur schwankende Meinung" (Janz 223). 6 This quote from ENGFÜHRUNG, varies a quote by Democritas: "Es gibt nichts als Atome und den leeren Raum; alles andere ist Meinung." For Celan everything outside the elements of language was just opinion. This Meinung denotes that same falsehood similar to the speech in the poem WEGGEBEIZT. The snow, a presence within an emptiness, stands in opposition to all else that is false. He realizes the importance of the snow or the particles and the emptiness that it fills up. Even the word he uses here, Gestöber, translates into English as "snowstorm." The snow acts as a barrier and inhibits one from looking beyond what is actually there. Yet there remains beyond the cloud of words a firm idea: "es möge jenseits des Wort- und Wortpartikel- ‘Gestöbers' eine solche ‘Idee' geben" (Schmitz-Emans 39-40).
Speech is very similar to snow, especially falling snow. There are almost intangible elements in the air that defy all attempts to hold them or record their passing. The poem MIT WECHSELNDEM SCHLÜSSEL (GW I, 112), focuses on snow. The phrase "Schnee des Verschwiegenen" connects the idea of speech or its absence with snow. Behl supports this idea that snow particles are comparable to sounds in speech. She sees the crystalline structures as the individual elements of language. In Celan's poetry they take the form of crystallized water or crystalline rocks. These figurative images become the elements of language or sound. Like sound, they connect with other sounds or atoms and form words:
Das Kristallgitter ist die dreidimensionale Struktur der einzelnen Bausteine, der Atome, eines Kristalls. Die einzelnen Atomen sind in allen drei Dimensionen, in allen Richtungen, mit anderen Atomen verbunden. Diese Verbindungen erst geben dem Gesamtkristall seine geometrische Form. Vergleicht man Celans Gedichte nun mit einem Kristall, der anstatt Atomen aus Wörtern besteht, wird deutlich, wie wichtig für die glatte Erscheinungsform der Oberfläche des gedrückten Textes des Gedichts, die uns zugewandte Seite des Kristalls, die untere, verdeckte Struktur des "Sprachgitters" ist (Behl 22).
Each individual flake of snow in Celan's poetry represents a sound with very little or no mass. Once these two elements of snow and sound come together, they take on a concrete form or Gestalt (Behl 149-150). Their union gives them solidity. They become in effect a glacier or a textual glacier.
Rock imagery is also connected to snow and ice imagery. What is applicable for stones can be applied in many respects to glacial imagery. Frozen water has many other features which allow flexibility in interpretation and semantic play.
Glacial density begins usually at 0.25 megagrams per cubic meter. However, glacial density increases over time as glaciers compact and air bubbles are forced out. Pure ice, which is totally absent of air, approaches the density of stone. This density reaches its maximum limit at 0.917 Mg/m3. Glacial ice has been recorded to reach densities up to 0.90 Mg/m3, but rarely does it exceed this figure. This hardness and density equals that of rock. (Brittanica 735). These images of rocks together with solid ice that approaches rock in density all refer to silence, the inability to feel beyond one's own being, and the alienation of the individual ("Poetry of Paul Celan," Lyon 60). Similar traits are found in glacier ice.
Celan uses these images of ice and/or snow and rock interchangeably, even combining them into like words. The word Kieselschnee for example, appears at first as a form of snow. One recognizes the word Kies to mean small rounded stones. According to Wahrig the word Kies means: "lose Anhäufung von zerkleinerten, durch Wassereinwirkung abgerundeten Gesteinstücken bis rd. 3 cm Durchmesser." These small pebbles, worn smooth by the action of water, can appear more like hailstones than rocks. A word similar to that of Kies is Kees, which in its original Austrian or Bavarian dialect means Gletscher. Celan purposely uses a combination of two words, that of Schnee and Kies (stones or hail) or Kees (glacier), to skillfully merge the images of stones with snow to form glaciers.
Stones appear elsewhere together with snow in Celan's works, their color being a mutual characteristic. In the poem FLÜGELNACHT (GW I, 128), Celan uses small stones or Kiesel together with Kreide (chalk) and Kalk (lime) to illuminate the whiteness associated with snow. These images of rock and the color white are all used to stress functions similar to snow:
FLÜGELNACHTFlügelnacht, weither gekommen und nun
für immer gespannt
über Kreide und Kalk.
Kiesel, abgrundhin rollend.
Schnee. Und mehr noch des Weißen.Unsichtbar,
was braun schien,
gedankenfarben und wild
überwuchert von Worten.Kalk ist und Kreide.
Und Kiesel.
Schnee. Und mehr noch des Weißen.Du, du selbst:
in das fremde
Auge gebettet, das dies
überblickt.
Stones and snow again are metaphors for language. The whiteness associated with the rocks and snow denotes the elusiveness of sounds, suggesting silence ("gedankenfarben und wild") yet it suggests at the same time the importance of words and language ("überwuchert von Worten"). The stone and rock-like substances function jointly with the snow: "Kalk ist und Kreide. / Und Kiesel. / Schnee. Und mehr noch des Weißen."
Snow's mutability in contrast to stone's solidity attracts Celan. The ability to alter its state is one reason why snow is so often used. The possibility of change is an attractive prospect for him, not only in his writings, but also in his personal life. In answer to a survey done by the "Spiegel" magazine, he stated: "Ich hoffe, nicht nur im Zusammenhang mit der Bundesrepublik und Deutschland, immer noch auf Änderung, Wandlung" (GW III, 179). The best example of change is summed up in snow and ice. It changes according to conditions around it, yet it also denotes a lasting existence, a permanence that was denied Celan in his personal life.
In order for change to occur, growth and/or decay must occur. Since inorganic crystals of snow and ice have their counterparts in organic matter, it stands to reason that they, too, undergo growth and mimic many of the same biological processes. Snow and ice provide nourishment for glaciers, while water and solar radiation are the main sources of glacial change. Celan adds an almost nurturing tone to his glacial word groupings. One of these aspects is his use of the word Milch together with glaciers. In the poem DIE ZWISCHEIN- (GW II, 143), he uses the word Gletschermilch. This suggests an image of nurturing. Human infants are nourished by a mother who provides milk for the baby. This same imagery is seen in natural and geological occurrences. Within glaciers there are analogues to birth and nurturing. Glaciers undergo what is called "calving" when large sections of the ice mass break off. Glaciers become a form of "Motherland" that gives birth to glacial "offspring."
Precipitation and snowfall also nourish the growth of glaciers. Their entire growth cycle depends upon snowfall. With the extra mass their plasticity increases and flow results. Lack of precipitation results in ablation. The mass decreases, and the glacier leaves deposits of gravel, sand, and all other non-melting materials. Only with continued nourishment by accumulation of rain or snow can any glacial growth continue. Likewise, the continued existence and growth of language depends upon a steady input. Words are continuously added while their varied uses change with time. The use of milk as a symbol helps establish the clarity and purity of the word. "Milch ist Symbol für reichliche, nicht versiegende Nahrung wie auch für Reinheit" (Wiedemann-Wolf 78). The word Gletschermilch is also a technical term found in glaciology. Celan blends the figurative milk, related Milch metaphors, and the proper glacial terminology together. This helps the words retain an unblemished definition. Its use in conjunction with glaciers establishes the purity of the spoken word and language.
Celan is well known for his early poem TODESFUGE (GW I, 41), where he also uses the phrase Schwarze Milch der Frühe. The polarity in color defines the corruption of language. While the white milk denotes a pure language, the black milk suggests a corrupted one. In this particular poem Celan implies the Nazi corruption of the German tongue, offsetting such images as "dein goldenes Haar Margarete" with "dein aschenes Haar Sulamith" (GW I, 41). The prototypical German woman's blond hair stands as an image of uncorrupted and undefiled beauty, much like that of pure snow, while the Jewish woman's hair is roughly analogous to the black milk. Together with the drinking imagery it prompts images of death: ". . . wir trinken sie abends / wir trinken sie mittags und morgens wir trinken sie nachts / wir trinken und trinken." Wiedemann-Wolf clarifies this passage, stating that drinking metaphors usually relate to death: "Schließlich hat der Trinkvorgang als solcher seine traditionelle Bedeutung in Zusammenhang mit dem Sterben, wie er auch in der Passionsgeschichte wiederholt verwendet wird" (Wiedemann-Wolf 79). While drinking relates to death, the Gletschermilch from the glacier suggests life and redemption.
According to Janz the color black indicates death and/or destruction (Janz 214). Black, however, is not a color, but rather is the lack thereof. It represents a hue where color is totally lacking. No radiant reflection is present. Rather the surface swallows all light or is non-reflective. This lack of light indicates language's inability to communicate ideas. Instead of being reflected, these ideas are simply swallowed up. When the ratio of the snow's surface albedo drops due to a dark covering such as dirt or organic organisms, its reflectivity drops. The glacial surface absorbs more of the sun's rays and its temperature increases. Glacial accumulation also diminishes and its growth is reversed. The lack of light becomes destructive both to the physical substance of glaciers and to metaphorical language. Celan uses the terminology der Frühe together with Schwarze Milch. This phrase refers not only to morning hours, but according to Wahrig to the "Frühzeit; erster Teil eines Zeitabschnitts." This early period can possibly indicate the initial layers of recorded time within the glacier, the lowest level representing an ancient era. The milk that flows out of this glacier is that early nourishing and pure milk or pure language.
Approaching the Pure Language in Ice
Gaining access to the inner recesses of ice and to unblemished original language in Celan's poems can prove quite difficult. But the poem WEGGEBEIZT (GW II, 31) provides ample imagery for understanding this process. The first stanza shows the destructive tendency that allows for access into meaning:
Weggebeizt vom
Strahlenwind deiner Sprache
das bunte Gerede des An-
erlebten — das hundert-
züngige Mein-
gedicht, das Genicht.
The first line which is also the poem's title, Weggebeizt means an etching out of or away from something. This is usually used in connection with acidic compounds that etch away patterns on metal, wood, or leather. Still it has a less obvious relationship to ice.
Ice is hexagonal in nature due to its atomic structure. Each oxygen atom can only have two neighbors or corresponding hydrogen atoms. The structure of water molecules forming the ice is a mixture of form and function, fluctuating between random and determined grouping (Brittanica 732). Likewise, glaciers exhibit both solid and plastic tendencies due to the composition and arrangement of the individual water molecules. J.T. Andrews states: "the low yield stress of (glacial) ice is related to its crystal structure, which consists of H (hydrogen) and O (oxygen) atoms stacked in layers of hexagonal rings" (Andrews 35). Hexagonal etch pits or indentations in glacial ice develop when the frozen water is exposed to the air. Etch pits have six definite sides and are formed around an air bubble (Kuroiwa 32). It is conceivable that Celan knew of this research and used the word Wabeneis or honeycombed-ice because of its similarity in shape to etch pits.
In the poem MIT WECHSELNDEM SCHLÜSSEL (GW I, 112), snow wraps itself around the word. This poem is replete with snow imagery, from the words Schnee to Flocken. It describes the house of the German language and the efforts of the poetic voice to gain admittance. Within this figurative house reside the true elements of speech.
MIT WECHSELNDEM SCHLÜSSELMit wechselndem Schlüssel
schließt du das Haus auf, darin
der Schnee des Verschwiegenen treibt.
Je nach dem Blut, das dir quillt
aus Aug oder Mund oder Ohr,
wechselt dein Schlüssel.Wechselt dein Schlüssel, wechselt das Wort,
das treiben darf mit den Flocken.
Je nach dem Wind, der dich fortstößt,
ballt um das Wort sich der Schnee.
The snow in this poem functions protectively by encasing the word, "ballt um das Wort sich der Schnee." This "Wort" encapsulates many of the same properties as the snow, which, like the poetic voice in the preceding line, is driven back by the wind. The snow's breathy quality resembles that of an oral word. As it coats the word or speech, the snow lends many of its own properties to language. Snow and speech attempt to work their way into the "house of language." "Wechselt dein Schlüssel, wechselt das Wort, / das treiben darf mit den Flocken." Herein lies the "snow of what has been muted." The snow permeates the "house of speech" and surrounds the word, granting its silent quality to language.
Similar to the image in MIT WECHSELNDEM SCHLÜSSEL, the verb beizen in WEGGEBEIZT also means surrounding a seed or kernel with different compounds. In fungicidal experiments it describes the coating placed on seeds before they are planted. As the plant grows and absorbs many of the chemicals on its outer shell into the plant, they make it more resistant against fungi. Care must be taken not to place too much or too little of the fungicide on the shell. Too much inhibits the growth of the seedling and too little will limit its effectiveness. Celan's comparison of words with seeds is similar in this respect.
Referring again to WEGGEBEIZT, the ice's structure might also account for the unumstößliches Zeugnis that appears later. The word that lies at the heart of the glacier is immovable as well as incorruptible. Language and snow are elements that can be traced back to their beginnings. Thus the poet can delve back into his language's origin, or in this case German, within the context of snow and glacial ice. Celan seeks out a concept such as speech and gives it form and solidity. Its outer layer is then stripped away, leaving only the pure language. This pure speech is what supposedly lies at the heart of all languages. It is the unique combination of signifier and signified, where the word spoken or written directly relates to its concept. These images that Celan attempts to show in his lyric poetry are constantly molded and remolded.
Celan also uses ice metaphors to renew the glacial language. As the German language accumulates and becomes a part of this metaphorical glacier, it, too, becomes purified like the Ursprache. Snow, and especially ice, are the media which purify language. George Steiner states that only through the process of translation can German become purified. "All of Celan's own poetry is translated into German. In the process the receptor-language becomes unhoused, broken, idiosyncratic almost to the point of non-communication. It becomes a ‘meta-language' cleansed of historical political dirt and thus, alone, usable by a profoundly Jewish voice after the Holocaust." (Steiner 389). Certain phrasing renews and purifies language, wiping away layers of literary baggage that accompany many words. In a sense, the glacial metaphor strips away the deposits of preceding generations.
Glaciers accomplish this clarity and renewal of speech. The individual ice crystals act as the refining elements, purifying the frozen water so that only the most perfect of elements remains. As water fluctuates between both a solid and liquid state, it leaches out all impurities. Dirt and other grainy particles are pushed forward and out of the re-crystallizing water molecules. Only the most pure crystals are left over. "During re-crystallization, impurities migrate ahead of the grain boundary so that the interiors of large crystals are chemically very pure, especially if meltwater is involved in the process" (Brittanica 735).
Celan uses a similar process in language. By purifying the German language through destruction and reconstitution, he mimics this same glacial purification. These literary elements work destructively upon parts of his poems, but also serve to help reorganize the individual components into clearer images. By reconstructing certain ideas into different words, he cancels the previous negative implications of those words. His language becomes more separated from that of colloquial speech. This destructive imagery such as wegbeizen and Spaltungen exposes the pure and undefiled language or Ursprache that is hidden within. One recognizes this Ursprache by the unique way in which Celan's words speaks to us. The images they create in our minds reflect directly back on the sound-images he uses. He challenges the reader to be aware of all the words' meanings so that his poetry might operate on all perceptive levels.
Footbotes:
6) Compare also Szondi 77, Buck 132.