No More Learning

There is also another circumstance which may have con-
tributed to his decision. His home was not a Jewish home.
Quite the contrary. His father was anti-Semitic, and strongly
so, although he himself, maintaining a double attitude, be-
longed to the Jewish religion (Letter XIV). Since the father
was anti-Semitic, we may take it for granted that he never
gave his son any instruction in the Jewish religion. Nor did
the official Jewish Congregation in Vienna have any evidence
that Otto attended any Jewish school or as a boy showed any
interest in the Jewish religion (Letter I). The impression of a
non-Jewish home is strengthened by the fact that three of the
children joined the Christian church, that some of them mar-
ried non-Jews, and that the father left the Jewish religion with-
out belonging to any new denomination. All these facts would
support the belief that Otto was a Jew by descent only, never
by faith.
But the desire to become a Christian for material reasons
and the fact that he was an assimilated Jew cannot have been
the deciding arguments for his conversion. If he had a vague
feeling that there was a reason, it is unlikely that it was clear
to himself. There existed in his personality quite unconscious
tendencies which were now to provoke a complete break with
the past he had known thus far.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 58 Student and Genius
On July 21, 1902, Otto Weininger received his doctor's de-
gree for his thesis Sex and Character: A Psychobiological
Study, which was handed in on June 11 of the same year. On
the very day when he became doctor philosophiae he symbol-
ically entered the Christian church, the Protestant faith. (Paul
Biro, Die Sittlichkeitsmetaphysik Otto Weiningers, Vienna,
1927, p. 15; U. L. D. , p. xvii). But the question still remains:
when did he actually accept the Protestant faith? The Jewish
Congregation in Vienna gave me the following answer, "In
any case, he left the Jewish Congregation on May 28, 1902"
(Letter I).
This source shows that he seceded from the Jewish religion
two whole months before he supposedly became a Christian.
To suit Otto his conversion had to be marked, performed sym-
bolically. He deliberately left the impression that he left Juda-
ism and entered the Protestant church on the day he became
doctor philosophiae, though in reality such was not the case.
No one can tell us the circumstances of Otto's formal retire-
ment from the Jewish Congregation. Not one of his close
friends or of his biographers touched more than lightly on the
point. They accepted his gesture without any question. The
obvious and striking demonstration might have caused anyone
with some, experience to reflect on the matter and ask not
only why Otto should have left the Jewish religion on that
particular day, but whether or not he really did so. The knowl-
edge that he kept hidden from his companions the date of his
leaving his old religion and that he entered on his new affilia-
tion with such obvious demonstration is, as we shall see abun-
dantly later, proof that a change had already taken place
within him. And this gesture was an expression of his desire
to be noticed, to be sensational, to be in the limelight.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? The Empty
Scene
Everything was well prepared beforehand for the gesture.
His conversion seemed impulsive, but was in reality an
expression of a tendency long dormant within him. At first
glance this change seems peculiar, but seen in connection
with his development, it fits well into the picture of his striv-
ing personality.
The same trend appeared also in the thesis Henrik Ibsen
and His Drama "Peer Gynt," which he wrote at the beginning
of 1902; in it he was mainly occupied with Ibsen's moral
ideals. Weininger struggled deeply with the moral problem in
general and consequently the writing was slow. Apparently he
was not only confused about the issue, but also burdened and
worried, a condition illustrated in a letter to Gerber (February
8, 1902): "I should like to conclude my notes and thoughts
on 'Peer Gynt. ' At the moment I write with great difficulty,
and I would like to have a talk with you to ease my mind and
to give my thoughts a chance to take form" (Taschenbuch,
p. 69).
It appears, then, that his preoccupation was speeding up
from the fall of 1901 until the summer of 1902. Nevertheless
he still showed interest in external matters, although mostly
those related to his personal sphere. On a postcard dated
June 17,1902, he wrote these words, not previously published:
"Take good care of my books, of the small ones because they
are not bound, and the big ones because they are not mine.
Protect them from Richard, especially Rote Quartal, which he
has perhaps already taken. I talked with Gerber Monday
about his 'heimisch Mark'; he is not yet decided. He'll be
here Thursday afternoon. Please tell Father the exact place
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 6o
Empty Scene
(in the third street) where Tchwegler, Geschichte der Philo-
sophic is. I need the book. "
It seems then that Otto Weininger was at this time in close
contact with his surroundings. Yet in step with his external
occupation a strong activity was going on deep inside him,
weakening his self-assertion so that he withdrew more and
more into himself. In this way he became more shut in, and
the process apparently came to a close when he entered the
Protestant church. The decision, realized with a great exalta-
tion, was called forth by a strong restlessness and disturbance
in his mind. Preceded by this feverish preoccupation, his con-
version was an act intended for the attention of the public.
A warning of the disharmony in his mind was already no-
ticeable. His conversion to Protestantism expressed his search,
his effort to escape from conditions which he found unbear-
able into something he thought would bring relief, something
better. 1 And he had the hope that this relief would solve his
mental conflicts. Therefore his conversion was deeply serious;
at any rate, it was his desire for a clear conviction that com-
pelled him to take the step. 2
Most of all it was his lack of inner happiness which was
proved in this action. This want was apparent in the summer
of 1900 when he first thought of leaving the Jewish religion.
By conversion to the Christian faith, he then thought he would
be made happy. After having taken this great step, however, he
found that he was not happy after all, as may be clearly seen in
his letters to Gerber the same summer.
His unrest seemed to stem from his vain search for happi-
ness and mental peace. The disturbance had long been growing
and was later to rise in a crescendo to pathological reactions,
marked by self-accusation, conscientious scruples, feelings of
1 "Once the idealistic philosophy had shown Otto Weininger his new course,
what his master, Kant, from his earliest years had seen in Christianity, the re-
ligion which quite naturally conformed with the philosophy of personality and
liberty, he no longer hesitated. " Andre Spire, Quelques juifs (Paris, 1913),
pp. 185-86.
2 Carl Dallago, Otto Weininger und sein Werk (Innsbruck, 1912), p. n.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Empty Scene 61
unimportance and self-abasement. It is very likely that his
mental unrest was stirred by his feverish activity about prob-
lems which he felt were awaiting his solution. He was so intent
upon looking for the solutions that he probably had no time
to savor happiness even if the circumstances had been favor-
able. His good friend Lucka had this idea of him: "I do not
think that Otto Weininger ever in his life had a happy feeling
and he hardly knew vegetative peace" (Lucka, p. 5).
This lack of happiness was deeply ingrained in Weininger's
personality make-up. When the void reveals itself in one way
or another, its appearance proves that it originated in his own
mind and must be taken as a symptom of his mental state.
His closest associates were not aware of this condition in
Otto Weininger. Even his father did not perceive it. In a rough
sketch of his son, he wrote: "In all his thinking he was more gay
than somber until his twenty-first year; only in his studies and
in listening to music was he very serious. Not until less than a
year before his death did his mind become gloomy, but even
then there was nothing to worry about--except in November,
1902, when I was really concerned about him" (Der Fall, p. 7).
Swoboda too believed that Otto Weininger's mental condi-
tion in the period until November, 1902, was not materially
different from that of a healthy man. But he contradicts him-
self: "Those who knew Otto Weininger only from his writings
can have no idea of his mental state in this period (1900-1901).
Discussions on the most difficult philosophical subjects were
his greatest pleasure. He was quite indefatigable as he brought
up question after question during our frequent small parties,
which lasted late into the night or into the early morning.
Abstract regions, from which others would turn away with a
cold shiver, were his real home. He was, in short, a passionate
thinker, the prototype of a thinker. But he was not yet given to
brooding. " 3
Twenty-one years old and discussing problems that arose in
? Hermann Swoboda, Otto WeiningeTS Tod (Vienna, 1911), pp. 6-7. Here-
after this work is cited in the text simply as Swoboda.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 62
Empty Scene
"abstract regions from which others would turn away with a
cold shiver"! This sort of thinking must have meant something
other than full maturity. It must have expressed his desire to
penetrate into even the deepest problems in order to find a
strong foundation for life. This untiring, passionate, and
romantic search for an anchor in the metaphysical and
speculative world resulted from the struggle between his self-
reproach and his biological drives, a conflict that led to con-
scientious scruples and a sense of guilt and, naturally, furthered
his feeling of mental dissatisfaction and unhappiness.
The vicious circle of his doubts and contemplations had
early turned his thinking to brooding. The change had probably
occurred as early as 1900. His emotional life can never have
been particularly happy. As Rappaport says, "He was never
good-natured in the ordinary sense, that is, tolerant of those
qualities which help one to enjoy life without actually hurting
others; this lack was probably connected with the fact that he
never felt genial" (Der Fall, p. 11).
Yet the condition was not static. How lack of happiness was
wearing on him is apparent when we compare "Schauder"
(quoted on page 21) with an earlier poem. This earlier poem,
written in 1899, may give foundation to the theory that he was
not conscious of his own lack. It was written in shorthand on
the back of an admission card for a meeting of the Society for
Social Science on March 10, 1899. It has been more or less
completely deciphered with professional help. It is of all the
more interest because if has never been published before:
DER FALTER
Wiegt das Kopfchen zwischenzeitig bange (? ) --
lachen die Augen glitzem in Tranen
Und die Stimme wie (? ) sonst Klang (? )
zittert und bebt vor Sehnen.
Madel, Madel, sei klug und gescheit,
lass den Falter fliegen!
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Empty Scene 63
Schau! Die Welt ist so gross, so weit
wirst ja noch andere kriegen.
Andere Falter, die so schbne (? )
und galantes (? ) gesponnen--
denn mag auch die Welt noch nach Jahr (? ) tausend Tone (? )
Falter flattern zur Sonnen!
Madel, Madel, sei wieder froh,
lach wieder lustig (? ) undheiter!
Troste dich: Alle Falter sind so!
Sie flattern davon. Was weiter?
THE BUTTERFLY
The small head rocks; half-laughter wells,
Timid, in eyes where tears are thronging.
The voice that was sweet with the sound of bells
Trembles and shakes with longing.
Learn, little maid, learn wisdom's way:
Loose to the winds the winged creature.
Broad the world stretches, colored, gay
With butterflies flying, for you to capture.
Ever, forever, will they emerge
From their dark cocoons with courtly bearing.
While the world lasts, while eons surge,
They will come forth, in sunlight faring.
Laugh, little maid, with the joy of flame.
Be strong and glad as the running of water.
Take comfort: Butterflies stay the same--
They flutter away. What matter?
There is a light mood in this poem, with perhaps some
undercurrents ("Trembles and shakes with longing"). More
than anything else it is questioning and wondering, definitely
not in the same vein of unhappiness and despair that marks
"Schauder. " The card on which the earlier poem was jotted
down is also in itself evidence that he was at that time in-
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 64 Empty Scene
terested in the Society and was seemingly engaged in worldly
activities. Apparently he was not in 1899 suffering from the
dark mood shown when he wrote "Schauder" in 1900. The
change may have come first as a general mood of unhappiness.
After 1899--in any case, by the summer of 1900--conscious
introspection was growing in his world, which was painfully
full of contrasts and was a good breeding ground for unhappi-
ness.
No doubt this unhappiness and dissatisfaction within a mind
in conflict left its mark on his thinking. Swoboda stated of this
period in his life: "In his thinking Weininger frequently
followed his psychic interests" (Swoboda, p. 27). If we re-
member this description, we may more readily understand why
he clung to his views even when his keen mind must have told
him that he was wrong. In order to disentangle the conflict
which resulted in gloom and unhappiness, he constructed
theories, theoretical truths, or fantasies to satisfy his emotional
needs.
The furious struggle in Weininger between his sexual tend-
encies and moral self-criticism had to be neutralized. But
to neutralize it successfully he had to cling to opinions which
might soothe the conflict in him even though they seemed
untenable and unnecessary to the normal men around him.
This neutralizing process was an effort to bring happiness into
his life; the method he tried to use was self-contemplation. In
other words, he used introspection as a means of getting rid of
the ideas which oppressed him.
Thus, Rappaport writes that:
"Otto Weininger through introspection tried to chase away
the haunting ghosts in his mind. By concentrating his whole
conscious ego on that one point, he tried to expel the antimoral
impulses" (U. L. D. , p. xvii).
Otto Weininger certainly had reason to feel unhappy, since
he had within him uncomfortable desires and wants which
were undoubtedly related to strong sexual drives. These desires
seem to have been more frequent than one might think, in view
of his steady fight against them.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Empty Scene 65
One may even assume, indeed, that the desires were already
at that time somewhat obsessional in character and that, inter-
mingled with them, he felt inclinations to lie and to be cruel.
Rappaport says also that Otto Weininger felt in himself
tendencies to murder (U. L. D. , p. xiv).
A peculiar development then took place. While from the
start he considered introspection a means of psychological
research, it not only was for him a research method, but also
acquired in him a personal moral value, inasmuch as he tried to
employ it to rid himself of emotions that made him feel
wicked and oppressed.
The deeper he went in his self-analysis, the more he felt his
"antimoral" impulses protruding. Gradually he grew to hate
himself. The first hint of such a development he showed in his
essay about Henrik Ibsen. He wrote: "Self-hatred is the best
foundation for self-examination. All self-examination is a
phenomenon typical of the self-hater. They are the least
pathetic and the most shameful of all people who despair when
dominated by any kind of pathos. An ordinary conversation- is
impossible for them, since they always and eternally suffer be-
cause of their whole ego, and this suffering they have to deny if
they become pathetic" (U. L. D. , p. 34).
There is no doubt that this type of introspection was self-
experienced. This very fine reflection of himself shows that he
was suffering even though his difficulty was not outwardly
apparent. He felt that he must not allow his emotions and his
passions to reveal themselves--a fact he confirms when he goes
on with his picture of the "self-hater": "For those who hate
themselves it is much harder to endure loneliness than it is for
those who love themselves; still, their efforts to seek the com-
pany of others will always be unsuccessful because they suffer
from the most terrible fate that can befall a good man: never
really to love another person. Their minds and spirits can never
be free, can never communicate with the minds of others whom
they might love and who might love them, so strong always is
the ego within them" (U. L. D. , p. 34).
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 66 Empty Scene
Otto Weininger is speaking from hard personal experience.
He is so engulfed in his own struggle, so tied up in his own
personality make-up, that his personality can never mingle with
that of another. These reflections were expressed some months
later in a letter to Gerber (August 15, 1902): "The feeling of
not being able to love anybody, I am, unfortunately, very
familiar with" (Taschenbuch, p. 70). When we compare this
statement with what we have just quoted from his essay on
Ibsen, we see that he is kept shut in by his own feelings and
passions, in whatever form they may take. '
This feeling of being shut in reveals itself clearly in the next
few words: "They [the self-haters] are like a house with shutters
forever closed. The sun may perhaps heat the house, too, and
shine on it, but this house will never open; apparently angry,
hard, sullen, and bitter, it refuses the sunlight as if afraid of
happiness. What does it look like inside the house? A wild
desperate activity, a slow terrifying realization in the dark, an
eternal clearing-out of things. Do not ask how it looks inside
the house" (U. L. D. ,p. 34).
The house of which he speaks is himself. On the surface he
refuses to communicate with others, while in the depths he
wants their companionship. But if they try to intrude upon
him, he does not want them. In the depths of his soul it is
dark, but within the darkness an incessant, despairing activity
goes on.
When he talks of "a slow, terrifying realization' in the dark,"
the words reveal his closed-up, isolated world, without mirth,
without happiness. The document which Otto wrote under the
title "Verdamnis" (Condemnation) proves satisfactorily that
the passage in the essay on Ibsen was meant as a description of
Weininger himself. "Verdamnis," which is reproduced on the
last page of the Appendix, was sent to me by Rosa Weininger
and has never before been published. In its description of
morbid unhappiness and its sense of doom, it bears a curious
likeness to the poem by Emily Bronte beginning
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? ^/'/ua^ b&&st v+^&C/^
GLA<C? 4c4. <k. **f >> ? ~*~--~
J. ty--< (f**-*
FACSIMILE OF LAST PAGE OF "VERDAMNIS,"
SHOWING WEININGER'S SIGNATURE
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 68 Empty Scene
I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask, no eye would mourn;
I never caused a thought of gloom,
A smile of joy, since I was born. *
The atmosphere is the same, an air charged with ill fate and
abandonment.
If we analyze Weininger's unhappiness, we discover that it
was essentially a lack of happiness, a void rather than a state of
active unhappiness.
As he probed into his own feelings, he not only became
aware of his lack but also eventually grew conscious that he
suffered from a total inability to feel happy. "He was," Lucka
says (p. 5), "very conscious of this missing quality. " An
aphorism he wrote later--probably in the summer of 1903 dur-
ing his visit to Italy--sheds light upon his feelings:
"Love creates beauty 1
"Faith creates existence I but all create life. "
"Hope creates happiness J
From the summer of 1901, when he first became conscious
of this flaw within himself, until the summer of 1903 he
developed the concept that happiness was instrumental in
creating life. Since he was undoubtedly thinking of himself, we
may conclude that through two years of rigid self-analysis he
discovered that happiness was for him as well as for others an
important part of living, one of the three cornerstones which he
believed to be the foundation of life.
After Weininger had become conscious of his lack, which he
tried to overcome by neutralizing it, he set himself to oppose
the inclinations and conflicts that caused this condition. The
result was in general an immense tension in his mind and in all
his activities; at the same time this sad, joyless, and dreary
despondency created an interior tension of secondary degree.
Therefore he was living in a double tension.
* The Complete Poems of Emily Jane Bronte, edited by C. W. Hatfield (New
York, 1941), p. 36.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Empty Scene 69
After he had become a doctor philosophiae in the summer of
1902, he accepted from his father money to travel--money
which he had proudly declined during his studies. He could
now undertake the journey he had been longing to take for a
long time. Yet his travels apparently were not accidentally
motivated; they did not materialize only because he now had
the financial means at hand. At that time he probably came
to feel that he could not tolerate borders or barriers. He felt
that his horizon was limitless. He preferred the whole wide
world as his scene of action, and he took it, not in spite of his
loneliness but because of it.
His loneliness was qualitative in nature. It was ingrained in
him and became morbid. Typical of his feelings were the words
he wrote in "Letzte Aphorismen": "Illness and loneliness are
related. The slightest illness makes man feel more lonely than
before" (U. L. D. , p. 175). Needless to say, he was thinking of
himself. And the words he wrote in the summer of 1903, when
he was traveling in Italy, probably voiced feelings that he had
known with equal strength in 1902. He wrote to Gerber:
"There is something wrong with you. . . . I think you are too
much of a gambler. You want too much to be given to you by
providence. You have put too much at stake, and you hope for
too much from the love of women. One needs loneliness more
than escape into the company of others. It is necessary that you
think more of yourself, courageously, always and everywhere"
(Taschenbuch, p. 96).
When we look at his desire for loneliness from the wider
viewpoint as the expression of a way of life, we may see that it
was for him a principle of spiritual activity. The longing for
loneliness dominated Weininger, was for him a vital problem.
He came to believe that loneliness was a means of creating
principles of life though such a doctrine would be repugnant
to normal human beings. Finally the need for solitude grew so
strong in him that it took on a moral color.
It is to be noted that for Weininger the general problem of
loneliness had not only a psychological aspect but also a
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? yo Empty Scene
characterological aspect; it was cultural as well, and even a
philosophical, metaphysical, and religious phenomenon. It
reached into all corners of human mental activities. Just as an
ordinary man may frequently achieve his fulfillment and be-
come truly a man only in the company of others, so an individ-
ual turned toward isolation may become truly himself only in
loneliness. The desire and need for solitude may, and often
does, make the man what he is. To the intellectual loneliness
may be a matter of spiritual life or death. To Weininger it was;
because of his craving for solitude he arrived at the way of life
essential to him and created the permanent mold for his
individuality. Loneliness became for him in the end a "human
right. "
His travels may be seen in a symbolic light; for instance, as a
manifestation of his sexual desires. A quotation from Sex and
Character is of special interest in this regard. He says in the
chapter "Erotics and Aesthetics," after pointing out that Kant
must have had little knowledge of love or sexual desire, "Kant
was so little sexual that he did not even feel the need to travel. "
Even if we consider sexual desire as a possible reason for
his travels,5 we may still look on them as an expression of yearn-
ing to be in a world without barriers. There was in this journey,
as in every other journey, an indefinite longing. Weininger
himself says, "Every journey is caused by an undefined longing,
a metaphysical motive" (U. L. D. , p. 98). For him, then, all
travel resulted from some inexplicable urge, and he was not at
all able to search out the source of his desire. Through his first
travels he acquired an external universality just as he was at the
point of reaching an internal universality.
His journey showed not only his lack of happiness and
introversion, but also an ability to keep his mind open--at least
to a certain degree. Above all, his movement across the world
was clearly related to his strong desire for some sort of balance
and expression.
5 Cf. Hans Bliiher, Die deutsche Vandervogelbewegung ah erotisches Phenome-
non (Jena, 1916-17).
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-08-19 08:38 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/wu. 89038364857 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Empty Scene 71
He went first to Germany, and then up to Norway, to
Christiania (Oslo), where he studied Norwegian further in
order to read Hamsun in the original language. 6
Through letters and postcards that he sent his friend Gerber
and his sister Rosa we can follow his experiences and his state
of mind. From a little place in southern Germany he wrote a
few lines (July 25, 1902): "Things are not going at all well
with me inwardly. I hope that you, at least, are not doing so
badly" (Taschenbuch, p. 70). From Munich he wrote (July
29): "It is a bit better with me now; at least I pretend it is. . . .
Our parting has thrown a shadow over my path. And you? The
thing for you is: Control your passions, sans phrase. Fate deter-
mines many things, no matter how we struggle" (Taschenbuch,
pp. 70-71).
To his sister he wrote on July 30 a postcard, which has not
been previously published: "Munich.