Review of ‘The Man Without Qualities,’ By Robert Musil, orig. published 1930.
By Stephen Wilson, one of our reporters abroad
For deeply challenging your mind, few books can surpass Austrian writer Robert Musil's masterpiece, 'The Man Without Qualities.' This unfinished work has wide appeal. It is a must for serious students of history, philosophy and in depth psychology.
I also recommend it to advocates of the homeless. This is because the author shows an enormous empathy for the homeless as well as characters from different backgrounds. I think Musil is one of the few writers with the audacity and rare courage to explore the dark side of life which most people prefer to avoid. For this is indeed an often disquieting and disturbing work which explores the lurking menace of an obscene nationalism which threatens to turn everyone's world upside down.
The main plot of this novel centers around the hero or protagonist Ulrich who is on a fruitless quest to discover 'truth' and how to best live his life more authentically in the years before the First World War. Ulrich can't seem to discover a role in society where he can best apply his skills and talents. His romantic ideas about being a white knight in the army embarking on all kinds of wonderful adventures is shattered by his real experience when he discovers how promotion in the army does not depend on competence or skills but social station. Sheer incompetence characterizes the army. He also fails to attain satisfaction as either a scientist or mathematician.
Although Ulrich is a genius and is endowed with qualities he never gets around to using them or knows how to do this. He fails to find happiness, a fulfilling relationship or mission which would make him a productive citizen. However, he, more than any other character, grasps the profound changes going on around him. It is fair to say that the other characters grossly underestimate his talents.
Ulrich is the ultimate outsider who thinks too much, and acts too little. But he is hardly the only character who feels a sense of impotence and helplessness before the impact of overwhelming events.
The main plot of the book revolves around Count Von Leinsdorf's attempt to form a collateral league which will organize the commemoration of the 70th anniversary of Emperor Franz Joseph's time on the throne. The aim of the celebration is to help inspire unity between all the subjects of the empire as well as promote patriotism, peace, prosperity, progress and happiness.
The problem is that people in the league can't fully agree on what exactly is the main purpose of the league as well as what, if anything, Austria means! What makes this mission so grotesque if not hilarious is the fact this project is planned on the eve of the imminent collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the rise of fascism. Count Leinsdorf seems to be clueless as to what is actually going on around him and most of the characters appear to live in their own world oblivious to the harsh reality around them.
Even Ulrich retreats into his own world by concentrating on repairing his new apartment in Vienna and taking a mistress. In a way, the characters retreat into their own shells, and their unrealistic views reflect how Austrians largely felt.
The historian Norman Stone described the system in Austria as 'Institutionalized Escapism.' The Austrian military were overconfident of winning a war against Russia and Serbia despite a bad track record of losing war after war since 1848. The absence of diplomacy was indicated by the fact that the chief of military staff Count Conrad Von Hotzendorf had called for a war with Serbia 25 times and was confident of winning it.
The only person who had a grasp of the dangers of the consequences of war was the Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Like Bismark, he warned never to declare war against Russia. Such a war would spell the end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire as well as the Russian monarchy. He turned out to be right. Unfortunately, he was assassinated allowing the war party to take full control of Austria and World War I began.
The novel captures the spiritual vacuum within the empire. There is no longer any clear moral compass to guide people as vices are transformed into virtues and vice versa. The distinction between good and evil is being blurred by the relativism of values.
There is no doubt Musil's views were deeply influenced by the German philosopher Nietzsche's dramatic proclamation that 'God was dead' and that people were left groping in the dark as to what values to anchor themselves along. Neither the Enlightenment or current ideologies could offer a viable alternative to contain destructive and irrational forces threatening to be unleashed by the First World War.
The one main character which best of all demonstrates the impotence and helplessness of people is Moosbrugger. Moosbrugger is a homeless carpenter who has committed a horrific murder of a prostitute. None of the characters can comprehend the motives of the character Moosbrugger.
There is also the issue as to how far Moosbrugger's crime is an aberration or partly reflects an evil which we all share. For instance, we read in Chapter 32 that 'It is not advisable to feel oneself akin to a notorious lunatic nor did Ulrich do so. But why did one medical authority declare that Moosbrugger was a lunatic, and the other that he was not? Where had the reporters got their nimble expertness in describing the work of his knife? And by what qualities did Moosbrugger cause the excitement and gooseflesh that for half of the 2 million people living in this city amounted to practically as much as a family quarrel or a broken off engagement?'
Musil wrote with much wit as well as merciless satire!
When Moosbrugger appears in court nobody knows what to make of him. He seems inscrutable. In one passage we read - 'When he noticed that one was looking at him, a smile passed over his broad kindly face with the unkempt hair and the moustache and little imperial. He wore a short black jacket and light grey trousers. He carried himself in a straddling, military way.
But it was chiefly this smile that had kept the law-court reporters busy. It might have been an embarrassed smile, or a cunning smile, an ironical , treacherous, grieved, mad , bloodthirsty, or uncanny one : one could see them groping for contradictory expressions, and they seemed to be desperately searching for something in this smile, something that they obviously found nowhere else in the whole honest look of the mind.' Psychiatrists, reporters, and all kinds of experts are stumped by Moosbrugger. Moosbrugger defends himself in court by using a bizarre rhetoric. He objects to the way people try to sum up his personality in just a few words. He doesn't like to be put in preconceived categories or boxes.
At the end of the trial when Moosbrugger is sentenced then led away he defiantly shouts, 'I am satisfied, even though I must confess to you that you have condemned a madman!'
Musil's description of Moosbrugger's spells of homelessness show not only deep understanding but condemn the aloof indifference of many people. Musil narrates how Moosbrugger was often without a roof over his head for weeks and lacked money for candles and food.
What's the point in asking a farmer to use his shed when you can get insulted? If the homeless person gets into an argument with the farmer then 'Of course, in the morning there's likely to be a row and a charge of assault, vagrancy and begging, and the outcome is that there's a thicker and thicker file of such previous convictions, opened up by each new judge with a great air of importance, as though Moosbrugger himself were explained in it.'
Musil ponders how a homeless person feels without having a wash for days. He is surprised that so many of the public can't understand how unpleasant this is. He writes, 'And who thinks of what it means not to be able to have a proper wash for days or weeks on end? One's skin becomes so stiff that it stops one from making any but rough movements, even supposing one wanted to make gentle, loving ones - the living soul sets and hardens under such a crust. It may not affect the mind so much; one goes on doing what is necessary quite sensibly. The mind is quite likely keeps burning like a little lamp in a huge walking lighthouse that is full of crushed earthworms or grasshoppers - but everything personal in it is quashed, and what walks about is only the fermenting organic substance.'
Moosbrugger is a lone wolf who likes to keep himself to himself. When any worker or colleague attempts to invade his privacy or humiliate him he can react violently. He simply asks to be left alone. The character lives in a 'bewildered solitude.' Musil argues with controversy that there is a little bit of Moosbrugger in all of us. 'If mankind could dream collectively, it would dream Moosbrugger.' In other words, given the chance we might all commit crimes like Moosbrugger. And Musil asks whether soldiers who legally murder people commit any less immoral crimes as Moosbrugger himself. Ulrich, who follows the case wonders if he himself might be losing his moral virtues as he leans towards populist nationalism. Musil was not the only author to suggest this belief.
Freud also thought we could all be potential fascists and Sylvia Plath in a poem called 'Daddy' once wrote, 'Every woman adores a fascist.' At first this view appears attractive. It is because as a rhetorical device it punctures the complacent self-righteousness of so many people. But it seems to fly in the face of practical common sense as well as basic psychology. There are some people, who under no circumstances, would kill, or harm anyone. I for one have encountered such people. It is more a theatrical declaration than a real analysis of how people actually are.
The novel becomes bizarre when not only does Ulrich fight to save the life of Moosbrugger but even attempts to organize his bungled escape.
The problem is that this novel was never finished. Musil, who was a Jew, was forced to flee from Austria to obtain refuge in Switzerland from the Nazis. The great poverty and stress which he endured during the rise of the Nazis took a great toll on his health. Tragically, he died of a stroke at 61 while jumping on a trampoline. Therefore, his novel remains unfinished.
Another problem is that this novel is out of print. If you are lucky you might come across an old copy in a second-hand bookshop by the publisher Picador, but the good news is you can read his work for free on the internet. That is the only way I could read his novel!
If you find this huge work daunting you can always read a smaller novel 'The Confusions of Young Törless,' (published in 2001 by Penguin Classics, in London). It is still available in bookshops.
But I think 'The Man Without Qualities' is never more relevant than at the present time. This is because another World War may be imminent. Just as in 1914, the quality of diplomacy in Europe has fallen to an abysmal level and few statesmen are making genuine attempts to reach a peaceful diplomatic solution. For this reason alone, 'The Man Without Qualities ' still represents a stark if dark warning.
.
.
Recommended reading:
‘The Death of Sigmund Freud, Fascism, Psychoanalysis, and the Rise of Fascism,’ by Mark Edmund, 2007, (Bloomsbury: London) provides a fascinating view of Vienna before and between the world wars.
‘The Existential Imagination: From Sade to Sartre,’ edited by Frederick R. Kark and Leo Hamalian, 1973. (London: Picador Pan Books Limited.) This book has a chapter of 'The Man without Qualities' on Moosbrugger and a controversial view of the novel.
‘The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914,’ by Christopher Clark, 2012. (London: Penguin History) goes into great detail about the Austro-Hungarian Empire and international relations with Serbia.