Wilhelm Hauff - The Wine-Ghosts of Bremen

Wilhelm Hauff wrote The Wine-Ghosts of Bremen in the last year of his life, and he could be understood, certainly, for devoting his time to the exultation of wine and the exploration of its history as a parallel to Germany's. He was twenty-five, an age when wine takes prominence alongside family, wealth, and both personal and professional aspirations. The Wine-Ghosts of Bremen is a novella which, if you wring it, drips wine by the litre, but it is much greater than just an addled tale of drunkenness.

The preface, written by co-translator C. R. L. Fletcher, is far too apologetic by today's standards. In it, Fletcher goes to great length to justify translating a work devoted wholly to wine and drunkenness, classifying it as "a good German story about STRONG DRINK". Today, the quantities of wine drunk, and the examination of both drunkenness and wine itself, would warrant barely a whisper, but it is clear from the preface that the translators were taking something of a risk by choosing this work by Hauff's than any other. Putting that aside, Fletcher's preface is both an excellent introduction to the literature of Germany during the first half of the nineteenth century, and an even better examination of Hauff's life and work. Fletcher states that,

It is usual of course to account for the excessively fertile development of literary culture in Germany at this time by the fact that the system of repression was so strong and effective as to drive all the moderate minds away from politics

Fletcher explains Hauff's dedication to literature, and in particular his desire to portray the wines of Germany in a positive light. Previously, wine had been something of a prop in a novel, if it was noticed at all, but Hauff wanted to make of it the star. The Rhine wines of his childhood and (short) adulthood were, he considered, one of the great jewels of German civilisation and culture, and represented the strengths of the nation through the craft and skill of the wines, and the dedication of the winemakers.

To the story itself, now. The novella is framed as an excursion to Bremen by the narrator, presumed to be Hauff himself. Hauff recognises his fondness for alcohol and its effects, declaring that,

In my opinion the habit which I inherited from my grandfather of blazing, so to speak, the tree of life here and there with a notch, and spending a quiet day of meditation over each notch, is not a bad one.

He makes his way to a famous inn in Bremen, and hires for himself a wide open hall in which to enjoy the fine wines of the region. The innkeeper is reluctant to allow him into the cellars on September 1st, telling the confused narrator that, “but no one shall take me into the Apostle cellar on the night of the first of September, not for love or money!” Hauff, amused by this funny old fellow, and curious as to his fears, insists upon visiting the cellar directly, and after much cajoling he is allowed to get his way. These parts of the story are glossed over rather quickly – too quickly – and there is a sense that Hauff is hurrying himself, and us, along to the 'meat' of the story. This is a shame, for the framing device of the novella never seems successful, it is all mystery and smoke, but not sufficient to engender enough curiosity for the antics ahead.

But never mind. Hauff ends up by himself with a great deal of wine. He begins to reminisce and, while drinking, allows his thoughts to wander back through the history of his own life.

Another glass! Another period. That is a better glass than the last, I think - there's an aroma about it that the other lacked. And what a period that was! My college days! High, noble, savage, inharmonious, rough, fair; all opposites and contrasts that ever existed, blended then.

To Hauff's surprise, the room is soon filled with all manner of old and wizened people – incorporeal folks, gauzy as gossamer, their clothes wispy and diaphanous in the flickering candle flames. They are ghosts, the infamous wine-ghosts of Bremen he was warned about, but chose to ignore. But these ghosts are not vicious so much as talkative, and it is the story of wine, Germany and history, which they wish to share.

This is a story of songs, ghosts, and literary allusions, all pertaining to the consumption and enjoyment of liquor, and specifically of wine. As one of the 'Apostles' - ghosts - says to the narrator,

Equal friends of the noble wine, how could they but be friends of each other? And on the next day their word pledged overnight was held sacred, and the resolves taken overnight were executive coolly enough in the morning.

The ghosts all hail from different times in Germany's history, and each has their story to share. The tales are raucous, enjoyable, and splashed red with wine. Hauff takes great pleasure in telling these stories, and both the ghosts, the narrator, and the reader, can gain enjoyment from them. The story never steps into the serious, which is good - instead it remains a loud and lusty exclamation on the joys of drinking. One character, Senator Walther, turns out to be a magician, and has used his power to fashion a little tap into his head so the fumes of alcohol can escape, and he can drink without becoming drunk. Such is the manner of merriment of Hauff's Wine-Ghosts.

At one stage a very old ghost tells the story of Germany's beginnings, which coincide with the beginning of wine-making in the region. Here Hauff's literary abilities are on full display. He writes best when mingling wine, his passion, with German history, his love. Here is a snippet:

Yes, it was a beautiful and a glorious time, and I rejoice in it as I did a thousand years ago. Where now there is one long wonderful garden from the shore of the stream to the tops of the hills, where grape climbs after grape up and down the terraces, there was nothing but wild dark forest before he came. Then he looked down from the mountains from his castle at Ingelheim, and he saw how even in March the sun greeted the hills so warmly as the snow slid down them into the stream; saw how early the trees became leafy there, and how tender and fresh the young grass looked as it burst upward from the earth in the Spring.

Hauff writes with the easy intellectualism of the educated nobility. He throws about allusions and literary references, and these exist as extensions to metaphor and to the enhancement of conversations. Hauff, quite young when he wrote this work, and sadly still young when he died, is comfortable with his topic and able to interweave magic, demonic figures, German history and wine, always wine, into his story with consummate ease. The stories the ghosts tell the narrator are excellent and entertaining, but the framing story - that of the narrator himself - is a bit weak. Granted, it exists purely to put the pieces in motion, but a sharper characterisation of the narrator would have aided the story's overall impact.

Hauff's Wine-Ghosts of Bremen understands Germany's history as one of battles, the search for glory, and the consumption of wine. While the first two are readily acceptable, the latter is not, and yet he makes it so throughout this novella. I am reminded of Günter Grass's novel, The Flounder, written 150 years later, which follows German history through its culinary shifts and developments. Was Grass influenced by Hauff's earlier work? Hard to say, but the parallels are there. At any rate, this is a magnificent work, compactly told but brimming with the fierceness of Germany. Hauff died soon after The Wine-Ghosts of Bremen was written, and was only twenty-five when he died. We can only wonder now at what could have been written, but wasn't. The Wine-Ghosts of Bremen is a satisfying coda to a life's work cut down too early.

Author	Wilhelm Hauff
Title	The Wine-Ghosts of Bremen (Original Title: Phantasien im Bremer Ratskeller)
Translator	E. Sadler and C. R. L. Fletcher
Nationality	German
Publisher	Project Gutenberg
Published	1889 (English) 1827 (German)
Pages	52
Availability: ---Amazon (US) ---Amazon (GR)

See Also

List of titles by Project Gutenberg under review