22. John 1:4–5.
23. An allusion to the parable of the good Samaritan, Luke 10:25–37.
24. “Confession” is meant here in the sense of profession of faith.
25. Faust I, “Auerbach’s Cellar.”
26. An allusion to Dante’s Inferno 1.1–3: “In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost” (Alighieri, Inferno, 23).
27. The poisoned rat, object of cruel fun in one of Mephistopheles’ drinking songs, is likened to Luther. Magda extends the analogy to Faust.
28. Matt 17:20: “ho de legei autois : dia ten oligopistian humon : amen gar lego humin, ean exete pistin hos kokkon sinapeos, ereite to orei touto : metaba enthev ekei, kai metabesetai : kai ouden adunatesei humin” (NovT) [He said to them, “Because of your little faith. Amen, I say to you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you” (NAB)]. Magda is struggling to make sense of Luther’s mistranslation, oligopistian [littlebelief] as unglauben [unbelief] (LBVN), which has since been corrected to read Kleinglauben (BLRT). Cf. Matt 14:31b, where Luther’s translation is consistent with the Greek and Magda has no difficulty (June 10 entry, n. 13).
29. Phil 1:13–17, 21, 23, and 24. Todeslust is a longing for death distinct from the Freudian “death wish” (Todeswünsch).
30. This rich Christian and chivalric concept has no adequate English counterpart, though its simplest meaning is “clear.” Other possibilities for Phil 1:10, 17; and 2:12–14 (following) are pure, sincere, and genuine.
31. Faust I, the tavern scene referenced in Magda’s June 20 entry.
32. Zinsgroschen in the first complete Luther Bible (LBVN), meaning tribute money. Magda has converted the concept into actual currency, the Zweigroschenstück, anticipating the revised Luther Bible (BLRT).
33. Ps 139:13–16.
34. Clarissa Harlowe, protagonist of Samuel Richardson’s 1747–48 novel of Sensibility, Clarissa. Magda would have had access to the eighteenth-century Göttingen editions translated by Johann David Michaelis.
35. When asked by a scribe what is the greatest of God’s commandments to Moses, Jesus answers first out of Deuteronomy, “you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength” (NAB). He then adds a commandment from Leviticus: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (NAB). Magda adds a pair of New Testament imperatives regarding children, which appear in all three Synoptic Gospels, but not in John (Deut 6:5; Lev 19:18; cf. Mark 12:28–34; Matt 22:35–40; Luke 10:25–28).
36. John 10:14–15.
37. alten Weiben.
38. Fräulein. It is not evident that the woman in the mirror is Margarete. This is Magda’s assumption. It is more likely Helen of Troy, with whom Faust is smitten in Faust II.
39. Gen 4:24.
40. Lev 25:8.
41. Fräulein.
42. Wisdom 6:9, in Luther’s Apocrypha.
43. 2 Cor 12:10.
44. Faust I, “Evening. A small, clean room.”
45. Ibid.
46. Matt 20:22.
47. Faust I, “A Stroll.”
48. The verbs wollen and sollen, want and should, structure both Gretchen’s doubt (as reported by Mephistopheles) and Jesus’ question (in Luther’s German).
49. Bethaus and Bettelhaus, respectively (Matt 21:13).
50. die Unmündigen (Matt 21:16), minors, or those not yet of age to inherit. Having been disinherited by her father, Magda is perpetually unmündig.
51. Marthe, Margarete’s neighbor, has been abandoned by her husband. In her eagerness to have her husband’s death, falsely alleged by Mephistopheles, legally attested to (presumably for the sake of remarriage), Marthe cooperates with Mephistopheles by becoming the go-between for Margarete and Faust.
Journal Two
(July 15–August 19, 1847)
July 15
Another brilliant day—taking in the light, soaking it up like a pale plant after a long rainy season. Too much water, not enough fire. My master tells me the book he is writing will be called Works of Love, a play on words. His light, his fire, lies very deep within. Few would suspect such a book from what they see as his poison pen. I wish I knew Danish to read my master’s books, but in a way I feel I live them—not the way he does, of course, but vicariously: in, through, with him. His look alone instills, imparts something of his lifeview.
Matt 21:23–27. Where does Jesus’ power come from—heaven or humanity? The high priests and elders dare not put the question so starkly, as an either/or, so Jesus raises the stakes. He may be a lamb, but he is not being led to the slaughter. He has choreographed the ritual sacrifice, or perhaps he improvises—at any rate, he is in control.
Margarete and Faust are taking a walk in the park.1