i SCHIMMELREITERGESCHICHTE: COMPANION SPECIES AND CULTURAL TECHNIQUES IN JAHRHUNDERTWENDE NOVELLAS BY HOFMANNSTHAL AND STORM by Melanie Kage M.A., Linköping University, 2010 B.A., University of Mannheim, 2007 A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES (Germanic Studies) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) December 2016 © Melanie Kage, 2016 ii Abstract The thesis at hand investigates horse-riding in two novellas of the German Jahrhundertwende era: Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s Reitergeschichte (1899) and Theodor Storm’s Der Schimmelreiter (1888). Cultural and Literary Animals Studies (CLAS), a newly evolving, interdisciplinary area of research, constitutes the framework for the analysis which focuses on equitation as a human-animal relationship with cultural and literary entanglements. Two theories from the larger context of posthumanism and concerned with humanimal practices are used to untangle the multitude of agents involved in riding: the Companion Species (CS) approach as introduced by Donna Haraway and the Cultural Techniques (CT) approach as introduced by German Media Studies scholars. The CS concepts allow an analysis of the human-equine figures and contact zones in the texts, while the CT notions enable an examination of the recursive chains of operations in horse-riding as a body technique. I have combined the approaches to engage with the material and semiotic complexities of equitation. Entangling them generates new methodological tools: world-making, emerging thirds, natureculturalization and earthiness. The literary texts are accompanied by research in Equitation Science and horsemanship manuals to enable even deeper practical insights. The interpretations of Reitergeschichte and Der Schimmelreiter untangle the concatenated links, loops, and liminal zones between the rhythmic movements of rider, horse and earthy ground. Therefore, the earthiness of riding stands out and in a larger conceptual and cultural context, it indicates the seismic shifts of the Jahrhundertwende’s trembling transitions in art, science and society, and humanity’s grounding troubles. The thesis thereby expands the CLAS framework into the fields of Ecocriticism and Environmental Humanities. iii Preface This thesis was designed, carried out, and analyzed by Melanie Kage alone and is a requirement of the German Studies Ph.D. program at the Department of Central, Eastern and Northern European Studies (CENES) at the University of British Columbia. The research was conducted over two years after passing the candidacy exams in November 2013. It included participation at the CLAS Summer School “Zoological Aesthetics” in September 2014 at the Julius-Maximilian’s University in Würzburg, presentations at the UBC FIREtalk (April 2014), at the CENES Graduate Student Colloquiums Series (2014-2016), the CENES Graduate Conference “(N)One of a Kind” in October 2014, and in a panel on “Zoopoetics” at the American Comparative Literature Association (ACLA) conference in January 2015 in Seattle. The project gained interdisciplinary and practical aspects through volunteering at the International Society for Equitation Science (ISES) conference in August 2015 at the University of British Columbia, Vancouver. No part of this thesis has been published before. . iv Table of Contents Abstract .......................................................................................................................................... ii Preface ........................................................................................................................................... iii Table of Contents ......................................................................................................................... iv Acknowledgements ..................................................................................................................... vii Dedication ..................................................................................................................................... ix 1. Introducing .................................................................................................................................1 1.1 Intro ................................................................................................................................... 1 1.2 The Topics – What Is this Thesis About? ......................................................................... 3 1.2.1 Why Horse-Riding? ................................................................................................... 3 1.2.2 Why the Jahrhundertwende? ..................................................................................... 6 1.2.3 Why Reitergeschichte and Der Schimmelreiter? ..................................................... 21 1.3 The Theories – How Does this Thesis Work? ................................................................ 32 1.3.1 Cultural and Literary Animal Studies ...................................................................... 32 1.3.2 Companion Species and Cultural Techniques ......................................................... 36 1.3.3 Writing Practice and Outline ................................................................................... 48 2. Methodology .............................................................................................................................60 2.1 Companion Species ......................................................................................................... 60 2.1.1 Figures...................................................................................................................... 60 2.1.2 Contact Zones .......................................................................................................... 63 2.1.3 Equitation Science ................................................................................................... 66 2.2 Cultural Techniques ........................................................................................................ 68 v 2.2.1 Recursive Chains ..................................................................................................... 69 2.2.2 Body Techniques ..................................................................................................... 73 2.2.3 Horsemanship Manuals ............................................................................................ 77 2.3 Entangling CS and CT .................................................................................................... 79 2.3.1 Emerging Third .................................................................................................... 83 2.3.2 World-Making...................................................................................................... 87 2.3.3 Natureculturalization............................................................................................ 89 2.3.4 Earthiness ............................................................................................................. 93 3. Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s Reitergeschichte (1899) ...............................................................97 3.1 Analyzing – Riding, Riding, Riding ............................................................................... 97 3.1.1 Companion Species .................................................................................................. 97 22.214.171.124 Figures: Lerch/Brauner ..................................................................................... 97 126.96.36.199 Contact Zones: Lerch/Zügelhand/Brauner ...................................................... 102 188.8.131.52 Equitation Science: Lerch/Schenkeldruck/Brauner ......................................... 108 3.1.2 Cultural Techniques ............................................................................................... 118 184.108.40.206 Recursive Chains: Lerch-Riding-Brauner....................................................... 118 220.127.116.11 Body Techniques: Lerch-Brauner-Handpferd ................................................ 124 18.104.22.168 Horsemanship Manuals: Lerch-Brauner-Hufeisen ......................................... 130 3.2 Entangling – Riding3 ..................................................................................................... 138 3.2.1 Emerging Third: Ride + -ing = Reitend ................................................................. 138 3.2.2 World-Making: Riding Creates an Umwelt ........................................................... 141 3.2.3 Earthiness: Riding Gives and Takes Bodenhaftung ............................................... 145 4. Theodor Storm’s Der Schimmelreiter (1888) .......................................................................150 vi 4.1 Analyzing – Riding, Riding, Riding ............................................................................. 150 4.1.1 Companion Species ................................................................................................ 150 22.214.171.124 Figures: Hauke/Schimmel ............................................................................... 150 126.96.36.199 Contact Zones: Hauke/Sporenstich/Schimmel ............................................... 158 188.8.131.52 Equitation Science: Hauke/Schrei/Schimmel ................................................. 163 4.1.2 Cultural Techniques ............................................................................................... 172 184.108.40.206 Recursive Chains: Hauke-Riding-Schimmel .................................................. 172 220.127.116.11 Body Techniques: Hauke-Augen-Schimmel ................................................... 178 18.104.22.168 Horsemanship Manuals: Hauke-Liebkosung-Schimmel ................................. 185 4.2 Entangling – Riding3 ..................................................................................................... 194 4.2.1 Emerging Third: Riding on a Line to Entanglement ............................................. 194 4.2.2 Natureculturalization: Riding from Dichotomy to Enmeshment ........................... 197 4.2.3 Earthiness: Riding between Trench and Tread ...................................................... 202 5. Concluding ..............................................................................................................................207 5.1 Summarizing ................................................................................................................. 208 5.1.1 Reitergeschichte: Riding Is Hovering .................................................................... 208 5.1.2 Der Schimmelreiter: Riding on the Edge ............................................................... 210 5.1.3 SchimmelReitergeschichte: Riding Spirals ............................................................ 212 5.2 Equitation and Earthiness ............................................................................................. 215 5.3 From Jahrhundertwende Novellas to Jahrtausendwende Theories.............................. 218 5.4 Research Outlook .......................................................................................................... 222 5.5 Outro ............................................................................................................................. 225 Works Cited ................................................................................................................................228 vii Acknowledgements I want to first of all thank my doctoral supervisor Geoffrey Winthrop-Young for initially encouraging me to pursue “something equine” right after finishing the required course load of the program and his course on insects in particular. It made me dismiss my original research project and pursue something I whole-heartedly find exciting and relevant. His ongoing reading suggestions, as well as his calm counsel and intellectual depth helped me very much. I also thank Ilinca Iurascu for her hands-on and eyes-on writing tips and advice on the ‘how-to’ of a dissertation, as well as her curiosity about my work. I would like to thank Dr. Steven Taubeneck for listening and understanding, for urging me to look beyond the graduate studies and even academic realm, and to develop my own vocabulary and voice as a student, writer and person. My supervisors and colleagues Gaby Pailer and Angela Struch deserve many thanks for their support within the research, teaching and learning opportunities they made possible for me. Thanks to our graduate advisor Markus Hallensleben, the always helpful administrative staff, and my fellow graduate students. CENES is a wonderful department to study and work at, because it provides substantial scholarly discussions as well as friendly personal connections. Furthermore, I am immensely grateful for the financial support I received from the University of British Columbia (UBC) in the form of the Four Year Fellowship (2011-2015) and the International Partial Tuition Award (2011-2016). More helpful funding came in form of the CENES Graduate Student Travel Fund (2013 and 2015), the CENES Maché Research Fund (2014), the UBC FoGS Travel Fund (2015), and grants from the UBC Faculty of Arts Graduate Award (2015-16), the Dr. Joyce Hallamore Scholarship (2015), the Eppich Family and German viii Speaking Community Fellowship (2015), and the Dr. Marianne Rose Lourie-Jetter Memorial Scholarship (2015). My most widespread thanks go to the junior research network of Cultural and Literary Animal Studies (CLAS) founded at the Julius-Maximilian’s University in Würzburg, Germany, but effectively connecting enthusiastic animal scholars across the world. Special thanks go to my companion researchers Roland Borgards, Susanne Schul, Natalie Lozinski-Veach, Eva Hoffmann, Frederike Middelhoff and Christian Dölker for their feedback. Most of these connections happened at the Summer School “Zoological Aesthetics” in 2014–which I could attend by courtesy of CLAS funding from the VolkswagenStiftung–and the “Zoopoetics” panel at the 2015 conference of the American Comparative Literature Association (ACLA) in Seatte. By founding an Animal Studies Reading Group at UBC, I continued similarly exciting discussions and want to thank all the members for that. Many thanks go to Cathy Schuppli (UBC Zoology) for introducing me to Equitation Science and giving me the opportunity to volunteer at the International Society for Equitation Science (ISES) conference in 2015. Experiencing Andrew McLean’s application of learning theory to riders and horses in the flesh and mud was impressive, meeting horsepeople from a variety of disciplines was rewarding and helped me, the humanist, to handle the scientific ideas more confidently. My final thanks go to Carla Corbett (former UBC Zoology, now owner of Seabrook Stables) for her practical horse-riding knowledge and for bringing me back in the saddle after a long break. ix Dedication I dedicate this dissertation to my unconditionally supportive parents and my partner Chris, since they patiently listened to my ‘horse manure’ during the two years of research. My dissertation work was also accompanied by nonhuman animals: To Rush, the cat, who either sat on my lap while reading and writing, or forced me to at least occasionally break away from the desk and play with him. To Eddie, the horse, who enriched my theory-heavy writing with fleet-footed riding, and with whom I share an appetite for sweet apples. I also dedicate this piece of wriding to my spirit sisters, the Wild Things Motorcycle Club, the friendly, inspiring women around the Majestic Unicorns Motorcycle Club, The Litas Vancouver and the Women’s Motorcycle Exhibit, as well as my fellow racers at the Vancouver Flattrack Club, who all feel #connectionthroughcombustion. 1 1. Introducing 1.1 Intro When introducing ourselves at the Cultural and Literary Animal Studies Summer School 2014, we included our name, institutional affiliation and a succinct summary of our dissertation: “I study horse-riding in German Jahrhundertwende literature.” Since the CLAS community is mostly curious about the animal aspects, the first question from the plenum was “Why horse-riding?” “Because I am a Pferdemädchen” was my quick reply regarding the motivation for my project, before I outlined my selection of era, texts or the theoretical and methodological approach of my work. Yet, horses seem to traverse it all. My choice of the German Jahrhundertwende comes easy, since the Expressionism movement, Der Blaue Reiter group, and especially Franz Marc’s colourful horse paintings have interested me since they appeared in my German and Art classes in secondary school, continued to do so during my undergraduate studies, and found their way into my Master thesis. Perusing a variety of turn-of-the-century texts revealed plenty of horses and horse-riding: Rilke’s Die Weise von Liebe und Tod des Cornets Christoph Rilke (1906) relates a young nobleman’s ‘riding, riding, riding’ to his love through a fatal battle, and one of his Orpheus sonnets ponders the earthy connection and shared movement of the Sternbild Reiter (1923). Franz Kafka’s Der Landarzt (1918) or Der Aufbruch (1922) tell of unearthy horses and life-long rides; Karl May’s tales about Der Schwarze Mustang (1897) feature a race of horses and horsepowers in the form of a train; and Paul Heyse’s Der letzte Zentaur (1904) pictures a time-travelling horseman. It is Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s Reitergeschichte (1899) and Theodor Storm’s Der Schimmelreiter (1888), however, that stood out with their intricate human-horse-relationships. Well-researched as they are, an interpretation along the lines of a new approach proposed seemed worthwhile right away. The theories and 2 analytic methodology I use entered my research organically as well: while writing a paper on the horse in Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Beetle Who Went on His Travels” in a graduate course on “Media Studies and Insects” in 2012, I read an introduction to Cultural Techniques. It mentioned Donna J. Haraway’s Companion Species Manifesto, which immediately seemed applicable to the horse-human relationship in equitation. Linking my interest in horses with these theories, and both of them with the Jahrhundertwende context and Reiter texts generated my dissertation project–which motivated me to join the CLAS network of junior researchers in 2013. This introductory chapter follows the initial encounters with my topics (1.2) and the theories (1.3). I critically unravel womens’ alleged motives to ride next to riding as an intricate human-animal practice involving more than gender aspects, namely interspecies agency and nature (1.2.1). Justifying my choice of the particular Jahrhundertwende timeframe entails roundups of the era’s cultural-literary context, its transitional and liminal characteristics, and its role in human-horse-history as well as horsemanship (1.2.2). Reasoning for my selection of literary works contains brief overviews of Reitergeschichte and Der Schimmelreiter’s content, form, similarities and differences; consulting previous interpretations of the animals and horse-riding in the two texts is crucial for developing my own framework (1.2.3). I consequently position my research in the new field of CLAS to pursue an interdisciplinary analysis of horse-riding as a human-animal practice (1.3.1). The theoretical considerations and basic definitions of Haraway’s Companion Species and concepts of Cultural Techniques as developed by German Media scholars are introduced briefly (1.3.2). Lastly, I explain how the methodological specifics of my approach, combined with the subject of riding and my experience with it affect my writing and the texture, terminology, structure and script of this dissertation (1.3.3). 3 1.2 The Topics – What Is this Thesis About? 1.2.1 Why Horse-Riding? What is a typical Pferdemädchen? Turning to the field of psycho-motoric studies for answers regarding the motivation for this thesis, I encounter a survey-based investigation about horse-girl-hybrids like myself, claiming to know what moves our souls and why. Helga Adolph and Harald A. Euler’s inquiry Warum Mädchen und Frauen reiten tests a dozen hypotheses for the special bond between female humans and horses, all derived from attachment theory. According to their results, girls and women perceive their relationship with horses as potentially life-long, ideal, existentially important, intimate and exclusive (see 51pp.). This confirms the basic assumption of attachment theory: “Für die meisten jugendlichen Reiterinnen übernehmen Pferde vor allem die Funktion des Bindungspartners” (Adolph/Euler 85). Horses are girls’ partners during the transition from stuffed animal to first love interest; puberty in turn, shifts girls’ interests from horses to travelling the world before they later in life return to expand their world on horseback as women in the form of riding vacations (see Euler 3pp.). Euler’s comparative gender study reinforces that females tend to bond with the animals while boys and men typically focus on the athletic aspects of riding. In the case of males, puberty then replaces the ‘toy’ horse with a ‘real’ vehicle, namely the motorcycle (see 3p.). In short, girls and women prefer caring for horses due to their empathetic, nurturing predisposition, while boys and men like riding due to their venturesome and competitive nature (see Euler 13pp.). Summing up this Pferdemädchen research in his psycho-sociological work on equitation, Heinz Meyer captures the main thing: “Wichtig ist das Pferd, weniger das Reiten an sich” (222). The author acknowledges Adolph and Euler’s–even if often evidently essentializing–results, but also critizises their neglect of empowering aspects (see 227pp.). He does see an increasing 4 “weibliche Besetzung des Reitsports” (242) since his own initial study from 1982; however, he points out that the data is based on riding club memberships, which is affected by certain trends in leisure time behaviour and less interest in sports clubs (see 252p.). Meyer also complicates a gendered perspective by looking at the changing role of horses and riding on a historical timeline, detecting the 19th century suffragettes’ dedication to equine welfare and a concurrent decrease of equitation in the male-connoted spheres of industry and warfare (see 243). He further explains that certain styles of riding are female/male coded, ranging from classis dressage to cowboy rodeo within the plurality of horsemanship cultures (see 243p.). Ultimately, however, riding is considered to be more than a traditional relationship or athletic activity, namely a sophisticated social phenomenon and complex mental and locomotive experience. Reducing its convoluted “Erlebnis- und Antriebsgefüge” (310) to a gender binary does not do it justice. Meyer therefore evolves a differentiated view in his updated book titled Reiten: Handlung und Erlebnis. First, Meyer acknowledges riding’s own world, the “Reit-Welt” (see 65pp.), which consists of horse, nature, a set of skills and a community of riders. The animal’s roles as partner and agent manifest in the “handfeste Berührung” (69) of interspecies contact in the muddy, dirty lifeworld of stable, pasture and “Gelände” (75). “Reiten-Können” (79) is the technical and artistic mastering of the practice. The characteristic “Zweierbeziehung von Mensch und Pferd” (87) paired with collective conventions are the “Reitergesellschaft” (93). Meyer describes six psychological ways to experience riding: to appropriate its material reality, to create an alternative life through it, to interact effectively during equitation, to arrange its approved styles, to expand the practice as a lifestyle, and to master goals shared with the horse or the community 5 (see 265pp.).1 All these operations describe the world-constituting agency of the mutually involved partners. “Das Pferd, die Natur, die Reitergesellschaft sowie die mit dem Reiten verbundenen Aufgaben […] stehen aus dieser Perspektive nicht asyndetisch nebeneinander; gemeinsam ist ihnen vielmehr, Medien darzustellen, in denen sich die verschiedenen Erlebnis- und Handlungsweisen entfalten und konkretisieren” (Meyer 333). Meyer’s explanations emphasize an ungendered, comprehensive aspect of riding that seems to traverse all its layers: a relation to nature in the widest sense. This manifests in moments such as riding over “[d]er federnde Waldboden, die satte Wiese und das abgeerntete Feld” (Meyer 269) or sensing a cradle-like “Getragen-Werden” (Meyer 273) in the horse-human Handlungseinheit. Experiencing nature as “den ursprünglichen ‘Lebens’raum des Menschen” (Meyer 302) is accompanied by feelings of “Überlegenheit […] in der Begegnung mit der Natur” (Meyer 283) and thinking oneself “als Hüter der Flora und Fauna” (Meyer 308), but eventually lead to a “Harmonie von Mensch, Tier und Natur” (Meyer 294). Altogether, equitation offers a connection “mit dem Natürlichen und Ursprünglichen, dem Emotionalen und Lebendigen als den Alternativen zur technischen Welt” (Meyer 335). Such cultural criticism along the lines of a ‘back to nature’ motto simply interprets horse-riding as an idyllic escape from mechanized life, and a fleshy, organic compensation for motorized transportation (see Meyer 336). After processing these various aspects of riding, Meyer disregards horses and nature and develops a typology of human riders (see 311pp.). This diverges from his initial treatment of Reiten als Handlung und Erlebnis and complex network of interspecies operations, and remains within an anthropocentric framework instead. 1 The German keywords are: Aneignung, Umbildung, Einwirkung, Anordnung, Ausbreitung and Bewältigung. 6 These studies into the ‘why’ of horse-riding unfold from genetic and evolutionary biological reasons of gender to psycho-sociological rationales related to the context of the practice, from the controversial Pferdemädchen concept to an idealizing notion of Naturerlebnis. Between those two ideas the complexities of equitation are exposed: it consists of numerous, heterogeneous, intertwined elements, which when analyzed individually provide merely unilateral perspectives. This prompts further research to interpret the concatenated intricacies of the practice reiten by using methods that suit its spiral entanglements. My dissertation therefore springs from an ungendered perspective: less because I ride horses and motorcycles (which defies Adolph and Euler’s results), but more because I am curious to look deeper into the interspecies contact between two companions which constitute the practical and cultural-technical operations of riding. My focus lies on the spectrum of human-horse interactions beyond a male-female or culture-nature binary, and how they are represented in a certain era’s literature. 1.2.2 Why the Jahrhundertwende? The chosen timeframe of my thesis is called the Jahrhundertwende in German. Strictly speaking, the centuries turn in the year 1900, but considering the overarching vastness of the mentioned shifts the transition is spread over about five decades with disputed cornerstones.2 It is roughly the era of the Second German Empire (1871-1918) with its expanding industrialism and imperialism between the Franco-Prussian War and World War I. The transition from the 19th to 2 The Jahrhundertwende is a fluid concept without regular historical borders, so there are several, partly overlapping terms to describe it. The expression ‘long 19th century‘ comprises the rise and establishment of the bourgeoisie from 1789 to 1914, the Belle Époque concept spans the international conflicts and cultural innovations between 1884 and 1914, and the Fin de Siècle idea mostly covers art movements around 1890 to the First World War. Other names for this period are Gründerzeit or ‘golden age’. 7 the 20th century is a period of paradigmatic transformations in many spheres of the Western and especially central European societies. They occur mainly in the areas of science and technology, as well as art, culture and intellectuality altogether. These changes concern everyday life and affect individual humans no less than entire societies. Epistemic worldviews about the Human essence undergo certain modifications. Consequently, concrete human-animal relationships change just as the conceptualizations of the Human and the Animal do. Several equine examples that epitomize the manifold developments of the time illustrate these changes. Horses are linked with transformative phenomena such as the ones shaking the Jahrhundertwende. In myth they not only appear as “means of transit” (Walker 19) in the sense of transportation, but also as elements in rites of passage in traditional religious rituals that allow humans to transcend between heaven and earth (see Walker 47pp.). A different perspective is offered by the hands-on, eyes-on reality for equines, especially those working hard in transport on the streets, in the factories and mines of European metropolises, and on battlefields all over the world. The fact that the Jahrhundertwende is often described as “’hell for horses’” (Walker 148) is due to the unsteady situation of crisis-shaken, war-stricken humans. It is also rooted in global but especially urban demographic growth: equines labour hard to pull goods and people, their horse power is fully exploited when engine horsepower begins to take over. Images of strong steeds or dull hacks determine the era’s aesthetics. Shifting “[f]rom Breadwinner to Performer” (Walker 143), from an essential aspect of daily life to an anachronism, the transition of the horse’s role is closely entangled with human developments: first, new scientific awareness, second, new machines and media, and third, new artistic styles. First: Changes in the scientific area are revealingly embodied by Clever Hans, “a plain, down-to-earth, turn-of-the-century German horse who belonged to a retired school teacher 8 named Wilhelm von Osten” (Wade 1349), that was allegedly capable of counting and communicating his calculations with hoof clopping. The shifts in sciences such as anthropology, biology, ethology and zoology are numerous during the Jahrhundertwende, as the new knowledge about human and nonhuman animals drastically affects both human self-conception and the human conception of animals, resulting in a certain approximation and realignment that affects the relationship between the two. These changes also determine the authority of scholarship that philosophized about ‘the question of the animal’ and the ‘anthropological difference’ since antiquity. Specifically with Sigmund Freud’s theory of the unconscious human mind and the meaning of dreams, psychology sways between anthropomorphic approaches and zoological perspectives on the psyche of living beings (see Mitchell 342). Humans, and even less the Human, are no longer their own masters, nor the animals’ masters. Charles Darwin’s theories about natural and sexual selection in the evolution of life, and the origin and ongoing development of species continue an inevitable facing–not yet embracing–of the blurry borders between human and nonhuman species. Darwin introduces gradual rather than linear differences between the species, thus setting a trend among scholars and schooled laymen alike (see Mitchell 345pp.). It is the case of the counting horse Hans that exemplifies these staggering concepts of consciousness, language, behaviour and perception in the discourse of souls, intelligence and species. Heike Baranzke studies “Der Kluge Hans” from the standpoint of the history of sciences and (equine) ethology: Wilhelm von Osten notices in 1900 how smart his “Reit- und Droschkenpferd” (199) Hans behaves, practices calculating with him and presents the results “des klopfsprechenden Pferdes” (198) to the public and a team of experts. The former reacts excited, the latter overwhelmed. Hippologists, circus trainers, veterinarians and psychologists 9 cannot explain how Hans does it, since Von Osten does not use classical dressage signals and debate this dangerous case–an attack on human supremacy–for years. Finally, psychologist Oskar Pfungst saves the exclusivity of human calculating by proving that Hans’ alleged skills turn out to be the result of unconscious signs–millimeter movements of the body–that the horse picked up from its trainer (see Baranzke 201pp.). Henceforth, the subtle communication of signals between humans and animals, changing its name from “Kluger-Hans-Fehler” (Baranzke 206) to Clever Hans effect, is used for testing the counting, reading and writing horses, dogs, birds and monkeys who followed Hans’ footsteps in the 1910s. The long lasting discussions about these cases reveal less about scientific substance and explicit evidence when it comes to animal intelligence. Rather, they demonstrate an increasing scepsis about human supremacy, accompanied by a growing acceptance of vague results–all of which fundamentally unsettles traditional scientific foundations (see Baranzke 212pp.). Nevertheless, the phenomena cause the founding of an “Institu[t] für Tierpsychologie” (Baranzke 211), promote “Erforschung der Interspezies-Kommunikation” (Baranzke 213), and yield more interest in the technical details of equine “Dressurgehorsa[m]” (Baranzke 202). Second: Technological innovations take place, as embodied by the motorization of horses into mechanical horsepower with the fabrication of the Reitwagen, and the medialization of horses in chronophotography and cinema. The shifts in technology mostly concern engineering and transportation, the latter being the main employ for horses. Engines and machines powered with steam or fossil fuels accelerate the conveyance of people and goods, as well as the making of products in factories, fasther than flesh and blood animals can do with their muscle strength. In 1885, Daimler and Maybach bring the first motorized vehicle, the Reitwagen into the streets, which changes the role of draft animals. As the ancestor of the motorcycle and eventually the 10 first automobiles with a similar technology, the two-wheeled Reitwagen and the following ‘horse-less carriages’ are still–most obviously by name–connected to the furry, four-legged equines whose physical strength is the measuring unit of their engine power. This motorization of horsepower induces a separation of animal and human in the realm of transportation, thus implicating that human culture can move on without this animal technique. In The Evolution from Horse to Automobile, Imes Chiu studies how the ‘domestication’ of automobiles and the ‘breeding’ of, for example, Jeeps cause a cultural shock that is only resolved by campaigns which present the new technology as familiar: “The transition from muscle to motor power was a matter of connecting old ways with new things” (254). The successful establishment of initially frightening motorcycles and cars is supported by the proven reliability of horses: “A nascent controversial device may benefit from the goodwill and popularity earned by its predecessor by assuming some of its functionality, physical representation and work routines” (4). Hence, horses become a common emblem and chrome decoration on the first vehicles (see 234pp.). But horses are not only involved as source objects in new technological products, they also influence knowledge production as subjects of innovative techniques. Stefan Rieger describes equines as “Leittiere einer animal locomotion” (175; original emphasis) in Bestiarium des Wissens. They are part of the history of animated images in media and considered catalysts that promote findings in motivity sciences. The impetus of this leading role is seen in Eadweard Muybridge’s chronophotography of the 1880s,3 which for the first time shows the different phases of the equine gallop invisible to the human eye, by disrupting their 3 See Muybridge, Eadweard. Muybridge’s Complete Human and Animal Locomotion: All 781 Plates from the 1887 Animal Locomotion. New York: Dover Publications, 1979. Print. 11 concatenation in motion sequences and creating a segmentation and serialization of animal bodies in time and space. Seeing horses’ motions hovering over the ground instead of assuming their sequence from hoof prints in the dirt provides insight into their natural gaits, and within the bigger picture, insight into the Gang der Natur. This insight, in combination with later developments in microscopic and macroscopic depictions of cellular or cosmic processes, quite literally proportions the human visual and epistemological perspective on animals, themselves and the world. The consequence of Muybridge’s chronophotography is that it objectifies locomotory characteristics and capabilities of different species. Assembling them leads to assimilating them, which unsettles human primacy: “Diese Versachlichung von Bewegung, die kaum einen Lebensbereich auszulassen scheint, nivelliert die Stellung des Menschen nachhaltig: Vor der psychotechnischen Intervention [...] sind Mensch und Tier gleich” (Bühler/Rieger 181). Properties previously ascribed to humans only–genius, spirit, greatness, or simply the skills involved in jumping over a hedge–are now proven to be present in animals as well. Altogether, chronophotography visually and conceptually merges ‘knowing what to do’ and ‘knowing how to do it’ of mundane cultural techniques such as walking. This medialization promotes the acknowledgement of certain animal skills and attenuates human supremacy, thus prompting man and beast to converge as companion species, particularly in one practice: “Im Mittelpunkt [dieser] Angleichung von Mensch und Tier steht die Dressur“ (Bühler/Rieger 182). In equestrian dressage, the horse performs inherent ingenuity and intelligence while the trainer optimizes, functionalizes and aestheticizes its natural motions. It is this mutual approach in equitation which makes the rider-horse-relation exemplary for the equalization of human and animal occurring around the Jahrhundertwende. 12 Third: The new developments in art manifest in the works of Der Blaue Reiter group and particularly Franz Marcs’s horse paintings. The artistic shifts during the Jahrhundertwende can be described as a mix of the juxtaposition, opposition and correlation of numerous movements (see Schlosser 221pp.). Starting with Realism, Naturalism, Neo-Romanticism and Neo-Classicism leading into the 1880s, and continuing with Expressionism and Surrealism which subside in the mid-1920s, this period is characterized by pluralism, or a proverbial “Gleichzeitigkeit des Ungleichen” (Anz 9). Throughout these decades the boundaries between the various visual and literary art movements, style and genre borders are fluid, or only relatively defined in media such as journals and magazines. Innovative configurations of blending take shape in this context: paintings and photos as well as poetry and programmatic texts are published together, concatenating images and words. Exemplary for this is the German group Der Blaue Reiter founded in 1911, where poets focus less on Weltanschauung than Weltdurchschauung, and the will to express something new, other, nonhuman. Vitalisierung, Beseelung, Animalisierung are the key words for this movement (see Maur), which for example influence Marc’s composition Tierschicksale (1913) with its dynamic animal bodies’ borders dissolving into the landscape. Der Blaue Reiter artists create animal-themed works which is for instance documented in Reinhard Piper’s Das Tier in der Kunst (1910). They discuss the problem of anthropomorphism, but intend to overcome it with insightful empathy for the depicted creatures: “Um ein Modewort der deutschen Kunsttheorie und Ästhetik der Jahrhundertwende zu benutzen: Dieses Hineinleben meint nichts anderes als eine Einfühlung in das physische und psychische Sein des Tieres” (Schalhorn 243; original emphasis). Marc illustrates the collective’s ideas in the book by contributing an essay and a horse drawing for the cover. Though his artwork features colourful cows, deer, foxes and tigers, horses in all shapes 13 and forms dominate. His idea is to express in his paintings “wie denn wohl ein Pferd die Welt sieht. Oder, darüber hinaus, wie denn wohl ein Pferd die Welt erlebt” (Zeeb 257; original emphasis). According to an equine ethologist, the artist documents horse anatomy and behaviour correctly by portraying them standing alone or in their social group, in typical grooming or grazing situations, and throughout many stages of movement. However, by pointing out the divergence of image and science, he concludes that neither a painter nor a scientist perceive more than the outside view of the horse (see Zeeb 266). But what about a writer? The examples in the Intro (1.1) show that horse, horse-rider pairs and riding as a practice are present in a lot of German Jahrhundertwende literature, as are animals in stories, poems and novels that represent the threefold shifts in science, technology, and art described above. Still, a majority of German-speaking authors are concerned with humans facing their new status amongst nonhuman animals, crave an “Erneuerung des Menschen“ (Pinthus 19), and experience intensive “Menschheitssehnsucht“ (Pinthus 9). Traditionally, the animal appears in such self-definitions of the human given that they are domestically and intellectually entangled. The omnipresent changes in the mentioned areas of human life also affect the omnipresent animals in these spheres, and consequently the relation between the Human and the Animal (knowable as a concept), and even more the relatings (tangible in practices) between humans and animals. Both knowledge and tangibility intertwine and illustrate what exactly is shaken and unsettled: the in-between itself, the formerly relatively clear borders between Menschheit and Tierheit, which suddenly seem porous. Despite the powerful avant-garde movements and progressive innovations, nostalgia prevails for the Fin de Siècle, a beautifully painful feeling of décadence that causes crises and conflicts between old and new precisely because of the many in-betweens. 14 As scientists, engineers and artists work through the problematic transitional times, writers document human society’s makeover seismographically. Literature, especially fictional narratives, creates space to negotiate liminalities caused by the abovementioned transitions and in-betweens of species, techniques, aesthetics and more, which surround the threshold of the Jahrhundertwende on the verge from 19th to 20th century. Liminalities4 are not simple lines but sophisticated “zeitliche, räumliche oder systematisch Schwellen” (Borgards, “Liminale Anthropologien” 13); they are intervals and interims, uncertain but tangible zones whose positions, contents and relations are constantly being negotiated, and they are not given but becoming. An analysis of such Grenzerfahrungen, considers three aspects: first, Grenzüberschreitung, the mutual transgression of a border, second, Grenzziehung, the constant drawing of boundaries by precarious practices, and third, Grenzraum, the dynamics and density of the border space (see Borgards, “Liminale Anthropologien” 9p.). Furthermore, liminal zones are inhabited by “kulturkonstitutive […] Grenzwesen” (Borgards, “Liminale Anthropologien” 11) whose figurations, actions, bodies and media make their own worlds, for instance, when they are processed in literary works. The human-equine protagonists Lerch and Brauner in Reitergeschichte, and Hauke and Schimmel in Der Schimmelreiter stand out with their companionships and technical riding practice. These human-horse-pairs are such world-making and culturally productive hybrids or Grenzwesen who process liminalities. All these considerations combined generate my research questions: What are the exact shifts in literature during this time of numerous movements? Are Reitergeschichte and Der Schimmelreiter another fitting equine-related example for the overarching transformations of the 4 In these cases they are ‘liminal anthropologies’, since they mean the human involved with others, the Other, the nonhuman, and are therefore fitting in my overall posthuman approach. 15 Jahrhundertwende? How do they relate to the multitude of thresholds existing on the edge between two centuries? How do they negotiate the liminalities of the human-horse-relationship? To prepare for a a close reading of them in regards to equitation as a companion species practice and cultural techniques (3. and 4.), one last important step is to examine the characteristics of the human-horse-relationship and equitation in this era in detail. The Jahrhundertwende in Central Europe constitutes a specific stage in horsemanship. The shared life of the two species is long and complex: it begins with human predators hunting the small prey animal as a source of meat, milk and hide (see Walker 21pp.), continues with the equine’s domestication and selective breeding for specific purposes in transport, war and labour (see Walker 64pp.), and finally leads to a partnership in leisure, sports and entertainment (see Walker 168pp.). Since these types of relations are not only a sequential development but also concurrent phenomena, one can speak of horses’ “mixed status” (Hausberger 3). With their domestication around 4000-3000 BC, horses are not the first wild animals to be tamed but certainly the most adaptive to human needs: they are more flexible regarding migration than reindeer, faster than cattle and more sociable than camels. Of all quadrupeds, they are the most influential when it comes to being human companions and influencing their cultural techniques: “While domestication of many animals was successful, it was the horse that for the next four thousand years would offer the speed, strength and intelligence upon which the spread of human civilization could be founded” (Walker 39). There is archaeological evidence that the westward expansion of wool, wooden wheels, and Indo-European languages is connected to the historical and geographical origin of equine domestication, which is said to have occured around 3500 BC in the Eurasian Steppes (see Anthony). Then and there, the perishable artefacts bit and bridle leave marks on durable horse teeth and thus prove that the animals were used to either draw 16 ploughs or carry goods: “Once [the horse’s] potential for carrying and draught became apparent, riding would almost inevitably follow” (Walker 40). The first human riders are arguably warriors, and the substantial role of horses in crusades and conquests stretches from the antique beginnings of riding to the Jahrhundertwende: “The First World War was the last major conflict to use regular horse cavalry in such numbers” (Walker 140) before the animal is gradually replaced by motorcycles and jeeps.5 With soldiers’ and sovereignity’s identity tied to the horse, cavalry is the main catalyst in developing horsemanship. But equitation also cultivates its own character starting in the 1500s with functional workmen skills as practiced by gauchos and cowboys in North and South America, and classical dressage as performed at European courts until the 19th century (see Walker 89pp.). Around 1900, the general transitions traced above–the mechanization and medialization of horses in the course of a human-animal approximation–coincide with the transition in equitation that is most relevant for this analysis: earth-oriented developments. The replacement of one literal horse power with engines moved by the horsepower of dozens of animals happens during the industrialization and urbanization of European and North-American cities. This parallel development is why Clay McShane and Joel A. Tarr describe The Horse in the City as a ‘living machine’. Working horses in public transport pulling goods in carts or people in streetcars compete with the first trucks and trolleys in cities whose growth and architecture is substantially shaped as a habitat and workplace by the ever-present equines. It is also a proximity and rivalry that causes increased cruelty towards the slower, weaker animal vehicle (see McShane/Tarr “Pferdestärken”). Consequently, “for all of the horse’s critical role as 5 However, Walker points out that World War II as well as conflicts as current as the US-Afghanistan crisis still recruited cavalry (see 141). 17 a flexible and evolving technology in the nineteenth-century city, it could not accommodate the requirements of the modern city” (McShane/Tarr, The Horse 179) in the twentieth century. The Jahrhundertwende is therefore a time of transition for certain aspects of the horse-human-relationship: from being a fellow worker in traffic, factories, farms, mines6 or the military,7 equines now become leisure companions, friends or family members. Instead of being equipped with harnesses, blinders and gas masks, the animals disappear from cobble streets and battlefields and reemerge as status symbols for the new bourgeois elite. Humans experience horses in new ways and therefore see them in new ways too. Such novel perspectives indirectly caused by the horse’s motorization also materialize in its medialization: equines are rendered into medial spectacles as actors or athletes, as celebrated sports horses or stars in circus shows, series and in the newest medium with the most impact: movies (see Walker 161pp.). In the genre of the Western, or ‘horse opera’, the black and white stallions assist villains and heroes, and together represent the epitome of perfect horsemanship. The status of everyday horsemanship in this period where war horse meets Western stud goes through a crucial change itself, as riding as a skilled cultural and physical practice changes during this tumultuous era: “Der Übergang vom 19. zum 20. Jahrhundert ist durch Veränderungen in den verschiedenen Sparten der Reiterei geprägt” (Otte 110). After almost five millennia of equine domestication and around two thousand years of documented horsemanship and dressage, equestrian expertise of the Jahrhundertwende attains the “Gipfel der Reitkunst” 6 Martin writes of the pitmen who respect and praise their hard-working, loyal pony comrades in heart-felt poetry and songs, documenting how the men and animals become hybrid creatures of productivity living, labouring and dying underground together (see “Bergwelt-Pferde”). 7 Borgards comments on drawings and paintings of World War I horses as comrades in battle, and how this event marks the beginning of the end of what historian Reinhard Koselleck calls the Pferdezeitalter that began with the animal’s domestication over five thousand years earlier (see “Pferde”). 18 (Schirg 1: 14). This pinnacle is less self-proclaimed than ascribed retroactively, since many of the horsemanship manuals written at the time are still considered valid today. Gustav Steinbrecht’s Das Gymnasium des Pferdes (1886) is, according to Otte, “die Grundlage aller später erschienenen deutschen Reitvorschriften und […] auch heute noch das Standardlehrbuch” (102). His instructional work provides the base for the Heeresdienstvorschrift published in 1912. In turn, this cavalry regulation is “die Grundlage der Richtlinien für Reiten und Fahren der Deutschen Reiterlichen Vereinigung” (116). Then again, the most current version of these guidelines of the Deutsche Reiterliche Vereinigung8–the governing body of all equestrian activity in Germany founded in 1905–are published in the thirtieth, revised edition in 2014. The core of education for forms of leisure, tournament or professional riding lies in basic dressage. It has not become obsolete but has been updated for a little over a century, which is why present-day authors call Steinbrecht the “Wegbereiter der modernen deutschen Dressurauffassung” (Otte 100) and consider his Jahrhundertwende contemporaries such as Paul Plinzer, Ernst Friedrich Seidler, Louis Seeger, James Fillis and Otto Digeon von Monteton to be grand Reitmeister. Despite their–often politico-militarily motivated–differences in nuances of proper riding aids and notions of the right horse, this new school of Western European writing riders shows similar developments. As Otte sums up: “[I]m […] Verlauf des 19. Jahrhunderts erkannten die Rittmeister, daß nur der feinfühlige Balancesitz als Ausgangspunkt für die korrekte Hilfengebung gelten konnte und nicht die starre, nur der äußeren Form nach gute Positur“ (90). Many manuals move away from sheer aestheticism, rigid posture or pure choreography towards a more flowing gymnastic approach to riding for both species. Whereas the medieval 8 See http://www.pferd-aktuell.de/. 15 December 2016. Web. 19 knights’ or baroque and classic riding masters’ style is coined by the human being in control (see Schirg 2: 6pp.), the newer Reitwesen is characterized by a symbiosis, “in der das Pferd die Stelle eines Mitarbeiters, ja oft sogar Mitstreiters, und nicht die eines unterdrückten Knechtes einnahm”9 (Schirg 2: 4). The reformed relationship between rider and mount is more sensitive and responsible on the human side and adapts to the horse’s experience: Ohne inniges Bemühen des Flexibleren (des Menschen) um Geübtheit für Perception und Reaktion des Festgelegteren (des Pferdes), ohne immerwährenden Kampf des Flexibleren (des Menschen) gegen seinen bornierten Autismus kann ein leidlich harmonischer Consens dieser beiden biologischen Individualitäten nicht erreicht werden, sondern nur ratloses Gegen- oder Nebeneinander statt gleichwertigen Miteinanders. (Schirg 2: 1) While this attunement, entanglement and ‘becoming with’ of biological individuals reminds of Harawayan companion species theories, the aspect of training, drill and the reciprocity of equitation resembles thoughts on cultural techniques. According to the masters, riding is a “Wechselbeziehung zwischen Abrichtung des Mannes und der gleichzeitigen Dressur des Pferdes”10 (Otte 93). As a multifaceted practice, it has “körperliche und künstlerische Ursprünge und Ziele“ (Schirg 1: 1), as well as historical and scientific elements. Here is where the changes in riding intertwine with the Jahrhundertwende developments traced above: medialization and motorization. Several riding masters attempt to introduce “Momentphotographie” (Schirg 1: 14) in connection with “Bewegungslehre” (ibid.) into their manuals, but the new technology is criticized as it cannot catch the aspects needed to support instruction: “Leider kann man die Photographie allein, so naheliegend es auch wäre, nicht ohne 9 Schirg quotes Brigadier Albrecht. 10 Otte quotes Francois Baucher. 20 weiteres als verlässlichen Lehrbehelf ansprechen”11 (Schirg 1: 17). Rather, it is written theory–masters regard “die Schrift als geistige Brücke“ (Schirg 1: 13)–in connection with military exercise which is considered to keep horsemanship alive in the face of motorization: “Nein, die soldatische Tradition im Reiten hat im Gegenteil das Reiten vor Zerfallserscheinungen besser zu bewahren gewußt als jede andere Institution, zumindest auf so breiter Basis und sicher deshalb, weil Kulturbewußtsein und Befehlsgewalt in einer Hand gewesen sind” (Schirg 2: 9). The main German institution to lead equitation from a cavalry skill to a sport practice is the Kavallerieschule Hannover, which is the first school to admit civilian riders. “Dieses muß vor dem Hintergrund ihrer Aufgabe als Ausbildungsstätte der deutschen Kavallerie gesehen werden, deren Bedeutung wegen der zunehmenden Motorisierung zurückging” (Otte 113). This development is accompanied by adding all-terrain riding or Geländereiten as a new practice next to training in the hippodrome (see Otte 99). The latter also implies the largest change in equitation around 1900: a return to movements close to the surface after centuries of dressage called “Airs above the ground”, Haute École or Hohe Schule über der Erde. Horsemanship changes from a highly aesthetic aristocratic standard and half spectacular, half effective cavalry skill, to a more functional mundane practice. Exercises such as the jumping capriole or the hovering piaffe, as trained between the 16th and 18th century at French, English and German Renaissance and Baroque courts (see Otte 57pp.), become less relevant for everyday riders and only remain part of the classical schools (see Otte 87). Seidler, a supporter of the new down-to-earth riding style sums up: ’Wenn die Dressur der Pferde zu hohen Schulen alter Zeit und zu den Schulen über der Erde jetzt nur auf wenigen Manegen anzutreffen ist, so ist wohl die Ursache darin zu suchen, daß das 11 Schirg quotes Ludwig Koch. 21 schulgerechte Reiten in der Vorzeit nur von hohen Personen geübt wurde, dieselben zu den pomphaften Aufzügen und Caroussels einen besonderen Wert auf solche paradierenden Pferde legten... An Stelle dieser Pferde ist in dem jetzigen Zeitalter ein ruhiges, gehorsames und gewandtes Dienst- und Gebrauchspferd gesucht (worden)...‘ (Otte 91) Other Jahrhundertwende riding masters demand “die vier Füße fest auf den Erdboden [zu stellen]“ (Schirg 2: 236) to practice proper riding, which explains why manuals often contain images of horse and rider showing which hooves float over the ground in profile view, instead of the slightly older style of aerial views on a choreography of iron shoe prints. In sum, the overarching shifts occurring during the Jahrhundertwende decades in science, technology and art unsettle the human-animal, Human-Animal and specifially the human-horse-relationship; thus, they expose the in-betweens of species. The transitions are illustrated with several equine examples such as motorization, medialization and earth-bound trends of equitation, which moves from the hippodrome to all-terrain and from cavalry exercises to practical riding. Since riding seems paradigmatic for human-animal entanglements and the unsteady events of the era, its representations in contemporary literature promise to be significant in the search for connections of species, technologies and negotiations of liminality as a cultural narrative. 1.2.3 Why Reitergeschichte and Der Schimmelreiter? Both novellas are produced during these tumultuous times for humans and horsemanship. Hugo von Hofmannsthal writes Reitergeschichte12 during his voluntary service in the Austro-Hungarian k.u.k. Dragonerregiment 6 during the late 1890s, as can be reconstructed from his 12 The novella will hereafter be abbreviated with the scribal RG. 22 correspondence (see Ritter 217). The novella is first published in the Neue Freie Presse just days before the end of the 19th century in December 1899, but the author himself never releases it as part of his complete works before he dies in 1929. Theodor Storm researches North German folklores and sagas about a rider on a white horse for decades before he begins writing Der Schimmelreiter13 in 1886, documenting his detailed pursuit of the topic in letters to family, friends and experts of dike construction or local history (see Eversberg, HKE 379pp.). He finishes the narrative only a few months before he dies in 1888, and publishes it in the April and May issues of the Deutsche Rundschau; it is subsequently successfully released as a book. There are several reasons to choose RG and SR as representative examples for an analysis of equitation of that era’s literature. First, both stories contain intricate riding scenes and a dominant human protagonist with intense relations to animals. RG describes a day in the life of the Austrian sergeant Anton Lerch during the Italian War of Independence, who fights several skirmishes with his squadron, explores an abandoned village–deserted except for some animals–, and is ultimately shot by his superior for holding on to a captured horse. SR depicts the life of Hauke Haien at the North German coast, who kills and saves several animals during his rise from farmboy to dike master, struggles to introduce a new dike design to his traditional community, and in the end dies when the old dike bursts and floods the drained farmland. Second, both texts are typical novellas14 of the era in such as they are not easily categorized regarding genre or style. RG research positions its subject and Hofmannsthal’s narrative writing in general on a blurry juncture between his lyrical and dramatic creations (see Gilbert, “Some Observations” 102; Wiese 284; Tarot 189). It is classified as a short story, tale or 13 The novella will hereafter be abbreviated with the scribal SR. 14 I will alternately use the terms novella, text, narration, story and (literary) work to refer to RG and SR in the following. 23 historical-biographical account, and it is asserted that the classic Goethean novella properties are violated (see Bosse 63pp.). At the same time, RG is praised as a ‘supernovella’ and “culmination of the Novelle of the ninetheenth century” (Hoverland 72) featuring the ultimate unerhörte Begebenheit. The same occurrs regarding RG’s style which is associated with the Viennese Fin de Siècle, Décadence and Symbolism movements (see Kamla), and termed realistic-naturalistic (see Alewyn, Über HvH 78) as well as not realistic or naturalistic at all (see Schunicht 281; Wiese 287), but in any case hovering somewhere “zwischen Tradition und Innovation” (Mayer, “HvH” 8). Scholarship describes SR to be Storm’s most popular narration and his best known literary work (see Eversberg, Der (echte) Schimmelreiter 11). The text’s genre has been discussed for decades: suggested labels are saga, ghost story or historical anecdote, but most prominent is the question whether SR is a novella or a novel (see Kuhn 141pp.). Established researchers consider the permeability of genres and call the text “einen exemplarischen Schwellentext zwischen Novelle und Roman” (Kuhn 167). SR is also located on an edge regarding literary styles, since the text features realistic-rational as well as mythic characteristics (see Lohmeier), and oral as well as written forms (see Kuhn 149). It is mostly assigned to Realismus because of its incorporation of local geography, culture and contemporary reality (see Holander 53pp.). The text has also been associated with Heimatkunst and read to fit the German nationalist ideology (see Holander 102pp.). Third, RG and SR are considered canonical. Though Hofmannsthal marginalizes RG as a “Schreibübung” (Ritter 218) and critics admit that it is “ein Fremdkörper im Gesamtwerk des Dichters” (Mayer, “HvH” 8), it is still seen to mark the beginning of modern narration in German literature (see ibid.). The story, especially the ride through the village and Lerch’s death, appear “resistant to interpretation” (Robertson 316) but “endlessly fascinating” (ibid.) at the same time. 24 These frictions produce a mass of multi-methodological research on RG: there are historical and biographical,15 structural, semiotic and symbolical,16 poetological and linguistic,17 literary and philosophical,18 socio-critical19 and ideological,20 pragmatic,21 as well as military,22 onomatologic,23 phenomenological24 or comparative25 analyses; the largest group of RG research is psycho-analytical26 and focusses on the novella’s sexual and violent aspects. Brauner, Eisenschimmel and riding are only mentioned occasionally. For Storm, SR emerges from a “mächtiger Deichsagenstoff”27 (Eversberg, HKE 379) that mattered to him personally and becomes one of the groundbreaking pieces in the literary-historical development from novella to novel in German prose (see Kuhn 165). SR scholarship is multifaceted too: there are investigations into the historical hero (see Eversberg Der (echte) Schimmelreiter), interpretations of text genesis (see Laage “Schluß”) and its threefold narrative form (see Jackson). Analyzing SR in terms of technology and media dominates the field, due to the way in which the text mirrors film and photography visuals (see Eversberg “Medienwechsel” and “Mise en Scène”; Segeberg Literarische Technik-Bilder, Literatur im technischen Zeitalter and “Elemente einer 15 See Fewster “Anxieties of a Writer” and “Cavalry”. 16 See Bosse, Burkhard, Csúri, Exner, Heimrath , Hoverland, Jacobs, Preußer, Schmidt, Tarot, Wiese, Wilpert, and Zimmerman. 17 See Brinkmann and Collel. 18 See Kamla and Mollenhauer. 19 See Durr and Stern. 20 See Fiedler. 21 See Alewyn Über HvH und “Nachwort“, Gilbert “Versuch einer Interpretation“ and “Some Observations“, Huber, Kunz, and Schunicht. 22 See Hansen. 23 See Fewster “Onomastics”. 24 See Träbing. 25 See Lakin. 26 See Baumann, Brittnacher, Donop, Gray, Haay, Martens, Mauser, Mayer “HvH“, Meltzer, Robertson, Ryan, Steinlein, Turner, Wunberg. 27 Eversberg quotes Storms’s letter to Erich Schmidt from 3.2.1885. 25 Novelle”; Wegner). A very productive aspect of SR also lies in the multifaceted remediation of Storm’s story in the form of films,28 graphic novels,29 and even an opera libretto.30 Finally, both RG and SR feature horse-riding prominently but their representation of the practice has never been explicitly analyzed. Both texts have been studied in regards to animals though, which often includes horses and riding. Mary Gilbert’s psychoanalytical reading of Hofmannsthal’s use of horse imagery in RG identifies two variants of ‘horseyness’: the “[v]ital-[k]reatürliche” (61) synthesis of man and beast via their distinction, and the “unity of rider and horse in a pre-existential integration” (62). Based on these, horse-riding is a symbolical motif that juxtaposes “the world of the mind and that of the body, [which] are shown as potentially hostile to each other” (67). Unity is created one-sidedly via Reitkunst, “the skill of mastering the horse and communicating the rider’s will to the horse” (63), which allows the human to be “’in Eintracht mit sich selbst’” (ibid.). Brauner functions as an externalization of Lerch’s inner events, and the horse’s limping and bolting testify a disorder within the rider, who must master his animal self to heal the split between his spiritual and sensual sides. Gilbert concludes: “Rider and horse, i.e., human and animal, mind and body–the integration of these two is one of the main themes of Hofmannsthal’s poetry” (“The Image of the Horse” 71). Helen Frink’s monography on Animal Symbolism in Hofmannsthal’s Works is motivated by “inadequate critical attention” (16) towards the topic, yet her psychoanalytical approach mostly focuses on the human. She discerns the change of the human-animal relationship around 28 Der Schimmelreiter. Dirs. Deppe, Hans, Ortel, Curt. Berlin: Schmalfilmvertrieb Bruno Schmidt, 1933/34. Film. Der Schimmelreiter. Dir. Weidenmann, Alfred. München: Intercine Filmverleih, 1977/78. Film. Der Schimmelreiter. Dir. Gendries, Klaus. Berlin: Deutscher Fernsehfunk, 1984/85. Film. 29 Natter, Jens. Der Schimmelreiter. Theodor Storm. Graphic Novel. Heide: Boyens Buchverlag, 2014. Print. Helmbold, Ute. Der Schimmelreiter. Theodor Storm. Graphic Novel. Eckernförde: Edition Eichthal, 2013. Print. 30 Meyer, Andreas K.W. Der Schimmelreiter: 22 Szenen und ein Zwischengesang nach Theodor Storm. Composed by Wilfried Hiller. Mainz: Schott Music, 1998. Print. 26 the Jahrhundertwende: While “the classical faith in a lawful cosmic order has weakened” (9), this era’s literature often features a longing “feeling of oneness with the universe and with all species of life” (11) even though reality proves that “animals are perhaps the only phenomena which resist or defy mystical union with the individual” (12). Still, according to Frink, animal images are shorthands or ciphers substituting “a fundamental human experience” (13). She therefore argues that the relationship between mount and rider in RG is one in which Brauner essentially complements Lerch and corresponds to his movements and mental state (see 67pp.), forming a closed brains-and-brawn-unit. Horse-riding is also read as a metaphor for sexual and financial struggle, as well as the dominance of mind over matter (see 72pp.). Finally, Frink assumes that zoological texts–such as Brehm’s Thierleben–of the time and mainly Hofmannsthal’s time in the military31 affect RG’s horse-riding imagery: the auther “failed to master his horse completely” (20) which “because of delicate hooves […] could seldom be ridden over hard ground” (ibid.). Ungrounded, stuck between lack of control and helplessness in horsemanship and warfare, Hofmannsthal reflects on the shared existence, sickness and suffering he encounters in war-struck or wild animals in his work. Renate Böschenstein’s contribution about animal elements in Hofmannsthal’s symbolic language also acknowledges that he writes during the “Selbstkonstitution des sich autonom fühlenden Subjekts und […] der modernen Zoologie” (138). Due to that, literary tools are on the one hand still stuck in the “auf anthropomorphe Projektion gegründeten Bildtraditionen” 31 Fewster depicts the cavalry experience slightly different, but comes to the same symbolic solution: Hofmannsthal’s horsemanship was praised by superiors and enjoyed by himself, despite being intensely challenging. Mastering riding meant to master oneself more than the horse. Fewster sums up Hofmannthal’s connection between equitation and acquiring a more secure identity: “To a man who feared losing the reins in his own life and order in his own society, riding appears as a symbolic activity, an education in the light control of an unpredictable animal that can become dangerous once it senses fear and loss of control in the rider” (“Cavalry” 122). 27 (Böschenstein 139) and “zugleich geprägt von den neuen Versuchen, Tiere aus ihrem eigenen Empfinden und Wahrnehmen zu verstehen“ (ibid.). Böschenstein sees Hofmannsthal’s narrations sway between the traditional Goethean symbolism and a bold attempt for an updated type of allegory by shifting the poetical focus towards the “Tierseite” (155), especially its ugly aspects that reveal human violence, sexual drives and sacrificial rites. Ultimately though, she argues that both ideas–animals as forever Other and animals as fellow creatures–still only serve one function, namely the “Demonstration der faktischen Funktion des Tiers als rettendes Zeichen im Verkehr der Menschen untereinander und mit sich selbst” (160). Ingrid Schuster’s study Tiere als Chiffre: Natur und Kunstfigur in den Novellen Theodor Storms provides a similarly conflicted view of SR. On the one hand, she acknowledges Storm’s scientific interest in animals spawned by his contemporaries Darwin and Brehm’s contributions, which revolutionize the role of nonhuman animals by relativizing the status of the human animal and seeing their similarities (see 18pp.). She elaborates how Storm considers life-bearing nature to be the same for man and beast who live together in an interactive network (see 171pp.). On the other hand, however, she interprets the writer’s strategy as follows: Indem er spezielle Tiere in die Handlung einführte und seinen Protagonisten zuordnete, gab er verborgenen (auch unbewussten, unterdrückten, unerlaubten oder krankhaften) Vorgängen der Psyche dieser Personen eine unverfängliche Gestalt; zur ‘Kunstfigur’ wurden diese Tiere, indem der Autor sie zu den Äusserungen und Handlungen der Protagonisten in eine innere Beziehung setzte. (172) Regarding SR, Schuster stresses that life and death in the story are similar for people, pets and livestock, who share the same fate along a flood-threatened coast. Then she describes the dike master’s different white animals: the Angora tomcat “bringt in Hauke die wilde, kämpfende Seite seines Charakters in aller Deutlichkeit zum Vorschein” (162), while the tamed seagull Claus 28 influences the protagonist and “er wird zahmer, duldsamer aber auch physisch schwächer” (166). The stallion represents Hauke’s conflict with the village population and his successful striving for power in the saddle: “Das wertvolle, exotische Pferd wird zum Alter ego Haukes” (164; original emphasis) and together they become one with the dike construction, levelling out the man’s aggression and altruism with the horse’s movement. Her conclusion is a symbolic othering of animals as mirrors and catalysts–not companions: “Tiere entlarven die naturhaft-wilde, überhebliche und skrupellose Seite des begabten Deichkonstrukteurs” (168). Dorothee Römhild‘s “Betrachtungen zu Hauke Haien als Pferdeflüsterer” continue the notion of animals as literary ciphers for human experiences, but go further than seeing the “Pferd als Herrschersymbol” (51) by delving into “komplexe Spiegelungsverfahren und Selbstvergewisserungsprozesse, um das immer neue Nachdenken über das grundsätzlich ambivalente Verhältnis von Mensch und Tier/Natur” (ibid.). She outlines the ambivalence of the white horse as an apocalyptic messenger or noble “Wunder- und Zaubertier” (54), and the dike master’s ambivalence between torturing and saving animals (see 57), as well as the centauric ambivalence of the two together. Comparing their tight union to so-called horse whisperers of the 19th century and today, Römhild attaches most importance to values such as the capacity for teamwork and the cult of human-animal friendships, inferring: “diese Art der gewaltfreien Pferdeausbildung steht nicht für sich, sondern wird […] zugleich zum Gradmesser der Beurteilung menschlichen Denkens und Handelns” (57). This leads to her conclusion that “der Schimmel in der gesamten Erzählung als vielgestaltige Spiegelungsfigur Haukes angelegt ist” (61). He can be a symbol for different aspects of his rider and fill different types of horse imagery, but he is ultimately just an image for something human. 29 Summing up, most animal and horse research on the two texts either already sets out with dualistic or symbolic premises or arrives at an anthropocentric conclusion–even after examining the more than one- or two-sided entanglements of horses and human protagonists. The presented interpretations of RG and SR restrict the poetic functions of nonhumans to metaphors or mirrors that externalize human experience; they are rarely read as their animal selves. For horse-riding in particular, some previous analyses neglect the equine–and material–agency in the practice and thus miss its productive, hybrid moments, companionship and technical qualities. Nevertheless, the research on the novellas’ human-animal, animal and equine involvements highlights two important factors. First, the character of the Jahrhundertwende as a “transitional period” (Gilbert, “The Image of the Horse” 70) during which the human self-image begins to crumble and species borders start to disintegrate, so that “the horse-rider appears as a symbol of equipoise” (Gilbert, “The Image of the Horse” 71). Second, the realization that such symbolic ascriptions from author to animal have the inherent weakness that they are not unique and original, since their significance coincides with literary and cultural traditions (see Gilbert, “The Image of the Horse” 60; Frink 25). A new approach therefore needs to first of all contextualize RG and SR as “complex spatial and temporal knowledge systems” (Parikka 154) in the Jahrhundertwende world as described above; second of all and even more crucial for an innovative reading is the need to resist symbolism regarding Hofmannsthal’s and Storm’s human-animal hybrids and practices. My analysis is based on Margot Norris’ observations on traditional modernist literature which can be expanded to literary criticism as well: “nowhere in literature [and literary criticism; my addition] were animals allowed to be themselves, to refer to Nature and to their own animality without being pressed into symbolic service as metaphors, or as figures in fable or allegory 30 (invariably of some aspect of the human)” (17), which leads to the ”reappropriating [of] their animality amid an anthropocentric universe” (1). While the figurative understanding and use of animal imagery may serve as an excellent reference point in the quest of ‘what is essentially human?’, the intricate human-animal dynamics in RG, SR and other texts “illustrate how the aesthetic structures of metaphor, though precariously supporting the human subject, seem unable to bear animal agency” (McHugh, “Literary Animal Agents” 488). Consequently, abstaining from such “tropological enslavement” (Norris 17p.) means aiming for a practice that respects animal agency in texts via a “thoroughgoing critique attuned to the traces of species” (McHugh, “Literary Animal Agents” 487) and is attentive to the “function of their literariness” (490). Susan McHugh’s “narrative ethology” (Animal Stories 5) is another fundament for the following investigation, which considers nonhuman animality in texts to be more than just an authorial tool from the poetic bestiary. She states how in literary analysis “models centered on agency rather than subjectivity, reflec[t] as well as influenc[e] ongoing social changes” (1), such as the human-horse-relationship around 1900. Such a critique also uses “a language of intensities in which agency operates as a verb, not a subject” (3), which this thesis reflects by focussing on the practice riding rather than the horse motif. A new approach to human-animal moments in narratives such as Hofmannsthal’s and Storm’s novellas is informed by how traditional natural science “underscores the limitations of disciplinary perspectives” (218p.) on a smaller scale and “undermine[s] commitment to disciplinary ways of knowing” (McHugh, “Literary Animal Agents” 492) in a larger context. This type of approach considers the newest developments within the humanities, namely posthumanistic approaches: “literary studies of species have clearly enriched as much as been enriched by the methods of life sciences, and […] demonstrate the emergence of posthumanistic and other extradisciplinary perspectives” (Animal Stories 219), 31 for example by consultating Equitation Science. Critical posthumanism reveals how exclusionary it is to focus on the Human, and how humans are in fact “a network of connections, exchanges, linkages and crossings” (Nayar 14) of bodies, identities and ideas. Consequently, research thrives on theories which overlap areas such as “biology, literature, philosophy or politics” (Nayar 15). Lastly, for such a posthuman approach questions of genre are minor; it desists from the Stil- or Gattungsfrage and appreciates the productivity of genre, kind and species, which seem to be about formal shifts, overlapping qualities and transgression of borders. Previous research on RG and SR discusses their hard-to-tame literary forms before acknowledging a certain hybridity. My investigation appreciates formal instabilities in the novellas or their interpretations, and proposes a more beastly analytic handling of animals in the text as well as of the texts themselves, be they gattungsfrei, stillos, interpretationsresistent. The taming vocabulary of traditional literary criticism has classified RG and SR extensively, so an alternative to this hermeneutic approach works twofold: first, it regards the texts as continuously entangling creatures rather than written, read and researched creations, second, it seeks to herd together heterogeneous discourses rather than racking up ultimate definitions. My analysis therefore accepts the consistency of equine studies’ scientific results next to the complex disparities of contemporary horsemanship handbooks, and is not worried about losing humanistic ground–“Bodenhaftung einzubüßen” (Collel 194)–or the mistake of descending too deep into allegedly minor matters–as Holander describes it for landschaftsgeschichtliche interpretations (see 113pp.)–. This thesis embraces the bewilderment that inhabits and surrounds Texttiere and Tiertexte. To reread RG and SR in this light, a theoretical framework is needed whose methodological notions are sensitive to the cultural productivity and technical practices of the interspecies human-horse companionship. 32 1.3 The Theories – How Does this Thesis Work? 1.3.1 Cultural and Literary Animal Studies The theories and methodologies for an innovative analysis of horse-riding that goes beyond the human and beyond traditional metaphorical or hermeneutic readings can be found in the new field of Cultural and Literary Animal Studies (hereafter CLAS). This research area, founded at the Lehrstuhl für neuere deutsche Literaturgeschichte at the Julius-Maximilians-University Würzburg32 in 2011, loosely institutionalizes the growing focus on animals within the humanities, pairing approaches from Anglo-American Animal Studies (with leading advocats such as Cary Wolfe, Kari Weil and Donna J. Haraway) and European Continental philosophies (as represented by thinkers such as Jacques Derrida, Michel Foucault, or Bruno Latour) in an interdisciplinary group. Associated scholars, mostly junior academics including doctoral students or postdoctoral fellows, conduct CLAS research in the form of a network. On the homepage, in an email list and at Summer Schools facilitated by the founding researchers of this Nachwuchsforschernetzwerk the members discuss individual work, current Human-Animal Studies scholarship and exchange materials. CLAS assembles various distinct areas: Anthropology, History and the History of Arts and Sciences, Film, Literary and Cultural Studies, Media Studies and Music, Psychology, Sociology and Geography, Philosophy and Law, to Biology and Zoology, collectively tackle ‘the question of the Animal’ (the careful singular, which asks for a problematic answer), and questions of animals (the curious plural, which produces even more questions). Especially the Summer Schools–which have meanwhile become 32 See http://www.ndl1.germanistik.uni-wuerzburg.de/forschung/nachwuchsnetzwerk_cultural_and_literary_animal_studies/. 15 December 2016. Web. 33 a forum–crucially contribute to the networking, practice and theorizing of CLAS as a field, which prefers communal development and continuous discourses over ultimate conclusions. Why are CLAS relevant? According to founding member Roland Borgards there is one main reason: “[The] categorical distinction between real animals on the one hand and literary animals on the other has long been one of the unquestioned assumptions of literary criticism” (“Introduction” 155). This conceptual binary is institutionalized in a disciplinary one: real animals are studied by the natural sciences and literary animals by the humanities. However, even within the latter there is a split, in which real animals are affected by a cultural reduction to mere objects or a literary reduction to simple signifiers. The latter phenomenon produces a wide array of works on the traditional Pferde- and Reitermotif throughout all cultures and literary genres or eras,33 which illuminate the role of horses or their human riders without ever referring to the behaviour of equines or the basics of equitation. My analysis will move beyond such constructions by focussing on riding as a ‘humanimal’34 practice: rather than only dissecting the human and animal agents separately and strictly semiotically, I will track the “mixing, assemblages, assimilation, contamination, feedback loops, information-exchange and mergers” (Nayar 14) between them. As elaborated with reference to the previous research on RG and SR, conventional literary criticism often neglects the realities of humanimal encounters, reads animals in texts as 33 See Arnold, Hannah (ed.). Geschwind zu Pferde: Ein Ritt durch die Weltliteratur. Berlin: S. Fischer Verlag, 2011. Print. Baum, Marlene. Das Pferd als Symbol: Zur kulturellen Bedeutung einer Symbiose. Frankfurt: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 1993. Print. 34 I use the portmanteau of ‘human’ and ‘animal’, ‘humanimal’, according to Nayar’s definition: it describes a partial overlapping of species in practices, while remaining uniquely themselves at the same time. In this context, Nayar also references Haraway’s ‘becoming with’ each other, as it trumps humanism’s self-contained ‘Being’ (see 15) in a posthumanistic approach. Haraway rarely uses the term humanimal herself, however, she acknowledges it, which is shown in her suggesting a play on it for the interdisciplinary online journal Humanimalia (see Meet 376 and http://www.depauw.edu/humanimalia/humanimalifesto.html. 15 December 2016. Web.). 34 signs for human experiences, and thus arrives at problematic conclusions. According to Borgards, the ‘animal turn’ in literary studies presents a productive contrast that “has resulted not only in a quantitative increase of scholarly articles, but also in a qualitative revision of the established concepts and terminology, especially with respect to traditional dichotomies such as human and animal, subject and object, action and behaviour, or culture and nature” (“Introduction” 155). Overcoming binary oppositions, simplifying symbolism or motif studies is therefore central for an ‘animally turned’ literary criticism that also includes cultural studies’ knowledge of nonhumans. This is achieved by deconstructing the differences and similarities between human and animal or real and literary (animals), and by scrutinizing the very construction of the distinctions. Challenging such long-established conventional thinking has theoretical support based in a deep scepticism of binaries that leads to a seminal middle way in the form of “new materialism, a social theory that mediates between semiotic culturalism on the one hand and factual naturalism on the other” (Borgards, “Introduction” 156). What theories inform CLAS? Demanding a “revaluation of animals as actors and companions” (“Introduction” 156) in the context of abandoning anthropocentrism, Borgards foregrounds Latour and Haraway and their respective concepts: Actor-Network-Theory (ANT) and Companion Species. Both do not put animals on a pedestal formerly reserved for human agency, but perceive human and nonhuman animals as actors and companions relating with each other in networks. Key is the recognition that animals are omnipresent elements in human practices such as breeding, experimenting, taming, eating, exhibiting, hunting, riding, etc. Animals embody power and knowledge configurations throughout the historical variability of these procedures, forming semiotic knots that manifest in cultural and literary products (see Borgards, “Tierphilosophie” 43p.). Whereas ANT is about ‘reassembling the social’ and 35 questions of how and why actors act together–which is why I will use the kindred but more practice-oriented Cultural Techniques theories (see 2.2)–, Haraway’s approach has inherent ties to the literary (see 2.1). How do CLAS work methodologically? According to Borgard’s suggestion, a successful analysis follows three steps: contextualizing, historicizing, and poeticizing. First, the humaninal encounter in the literary text should be complicated with non-literary expert knowledge about it: “Eine Anreicherung mit möglichst vielen Kontexten ist im Grunde bei jedem einzelnen literarischen Tier geboten. Der Blick in Texte aus dem disziplinären Rahmen der Biologie, Zoologie, Ethologie und Vergleichenden Anatomie liegt dabei besonders nahe” (Borgards, “Tiere” 97). Therefore, I will use insight from the new field of Equitation Science (hereafter ES, see 2.1.3) which contains equine ethology and a kinematic approach to riding, to contextualize RG and SR. Second, the literary text is to be historicized by connecting it with texts produced before, during, or after the subject of analysis. The goal is not to expose mutual influences, but to explore structures: “Dabei geht es nicht um philologisch nachweisbare Einflüsse, nicht um die Wirkung eines einzelnen Textes auf einen anderen einzelnen Text, sondern um das Gefüge einer kompletten Textmenge” (Borgards, “Tiere” 99). Hence I will enrich my readings of RG and SR with contemporary horsemanship manuals by Otto Digeon von Monteton and James Fillis (see 2.2.3). The last step,35 namely to regard every animal text as if it was poetic or at least literary, and to be attentive to its formal linguistic characteristics as well as rhetorical and argumentative strategies, is less relevant for my analysis of the novellas. However, it is understood: “Ein Tiertext versteht sich nie von selbst” (Borgards, “Tiere” 102). 35 This step is based on Borgards’ assumption about a mutual involvement and influence of the fields of research combined in CLAS, namely literature and zoology: “Es gibt nicht nur Zoologisches in der Literatur, es gibt auch Literarisches in der Zoologie” (“Zoologie” 165). 36 Finally, the CLAS co-founder demands that scholars refine the interdisciplinary collaborations made via contextualizing and historicizing, since these shared research tools have not yet reached a secure base. He sees two tasks for this field: considering old canonical topics, genres and texts anew, as well as increasing the number of concrete case studies (Borgards, “Introduction” 158p.). My analysis of RG and SR does both and thus helps to condense the knots of knowledge and broaden the scope of CLAS research. Borgards also strongly emphasizes how important the fundamental entanglements with a larger philosophical framework and precise systematic procedures are: “This commitment to methodological and theoretical reflection should not be seen as limiting” (“Introduction” 158). Without such a theoretical-methodological embeddedness, an interpretation of literary animal texts either ends up in “traditional motif history” (ibid.) or “as a direct ethical positioning of their authors” (ibid.). Instead, exploring as well as further entangling of the mentioned Anglo-American or European approaches is encouraged. I will therefore “combine several of them in a careful methodical crossover” (ibid.) to achieve an enriching reading: Haraway’s Companion Species theories and theories of Cultural Techniques. 1.3.2 Companion Species and Cultural Techniques Haraway’s Companion Species (CS36) theory is the first methodological tool of my CLAS approach to RG and SR. Her seminal text The Companion Species Manifesto introduces the CS idea and applies it to human-dog-practices such as sheep-herding and the sport of agility. Dogs and people live, work, play and in a word, relate together in what Haraway calls significant otherness: a relationship of “patterns within which the players are neither wholes nor parts” 36 I will henceforth use this abbreviation, which implies the plural of ‘species’ unless specified as a singular. 37 (Manifesto 8) and “through which the partners come to be who [they] are in flesh and sign” (Manifesto 25). ‘Significant’ means that the relationship makes the involved parties become more worldly and creates more livable worlds for them (see Manifesto 61). ‘Otherness’ means that the entangled parties do not become a harmonious one but remain heterogenous and with their own histories while they connect via mutual curiousity (see Manifesto 45 and 50). One traditional type of such a relationship is that of humans having a ‘companion animal’. The term emerges centuries ago all over the world as a name for nonhuman helpers, but is restricted to psycho-sociological workers in the 1970s in the US (see Manifesto 12). CS, however, “is a bigger and more heterogeneous category” (Manifesto 15) because it includes any organic being contributing to human life and stories, and vice versa. CS make each other in ongoing co-relating (see Manifesto 96). ‘Companion’ derives from Latin cum panis, ‘with bread’, and describes either messmates or helpful books, and as ‘company’ refers to commercial, military or sexual units (see Meet 17). ‘Species’ derives from Latin specere, ‘to look’, and describes a group of individuals; interestingly, the adjective ‘specific’ refers to something uniquely individual (see Meet 17). There are Darwininan biological species, but also differentiating philosophical categories, but both are about “the corporeal join of the material and the semiotic” (Manifesto 16) in kinship. Finally, there are even more etymological ramifications: ‘specie’ means ‘hard money’, and Old English ‘scite’ is dung, which traces dirt and wealth from the same root. CS are thus mutually constituting, mortal, impure, complex creatures who share a history. Both companions and species are about coming together, eating together and looking back (‘respecere’) at each other (see Meet 19). Alone, pre-encounter, they almost have no meanings. To sum up this ongoing otherness-in-connection in a relative definition: “Companion species is a 38 permanently undecideable category, a category-in-question that insists on the relation as the smallest unit of being and analysis” (Haraway, Meet 165). Starting as a biologist, technoscientist and ecofeminist, Haraway’s first manifesto published a decade before the animal turn is mostly concerned with the figure of the cyborg that connects feminism with technology. Cyborgism contests dualisms such as nature-culture, organism-machine or primitive-civilized, since they disregard lived relations and center on Western, white, male domination as a reality (see “Cyborg” 161p.) One of the many constructed binaries to be deconstructed in this context is the one between human and animal. Since “nothing really convincingly settles the separation” (“Cyborg” 152), since bioscience, science fiction and technology already breached the borders of man, “[t]he cyborg appears in myth precisely where the boundary between human and animal is transgressed” (ibid.). By abolishing the divide between animal and machine (see Meet 10pp.), and by adapting her approach to the increasing political entanglements of biopower and biosociality (see Manifesto 4p.), Haraway develops the 1980s idea of cyborgs further and now rearticulates them “as junior siblings in the much bigger, queer family of companion species” (Manifesto 11). Both figures combine the human and the nonhuman in communicative networks of difference and embody the unexpected, but CS also features ethical aspects (see Meet 69pp.). However, referring to Vicki Hearne’s program of uneqal specificity, Haraway rejects ethics that command human rights for animals, and therefore refuses forms of animal rights activism “that see furry humans in animal bodies and measures their worth in scales of similarity to the rights-bearing, humanist subjects of Western philosophy and political theory” (Manifesto 51). This is where a common critique of Haraway’s CS ethics ensues. Animal historian Julie A. Smith, who otherwise praises The Companion Species Manifesto as exemplary for its innovative 39 discourse methods, finds Haraway guilty of wishing the impossible: effective ethics without fixed criteria (see 333pp.). Her rejection of a hierarchical program contradicts her equally strong request for ethics. This dissent is problematic for posthumanism, which on the one hand distances itself from a modern insistence on dominant schemes such as human rights, but on the other hand demands ethics that do not operate by the limits of categorical right-or-wrong laws.37 Smith suspects that Haraway elides these struggles, and suggests a more democratic approach to CS herself: accepting the variety of humanimal relations in rights activism, and advancing CS’ ethical reflecting. Finally, Smith’s notion of thinking literary animal representations as domains (see 337p.) agrees with Haraway’s thinking of animals as worlds. The historian’s notion of exchanging firmly fixed man-made rules with a human(e) imaginative involvement (see 339p.) reconnects to Haraway’s ‘open’ and ‘becoming with’ as defined below. The ‘ethical turn’ within the ‘animal turn’ eventually creates a circle and produces knowledge. Entangling circles, spirals and nets are the CLAS way to work with the curse of anthropocentrism which every posthuman human scholar faces. Key is to wholeheartedly embrace the productive failure of human-done animal research without being discouraged by it. Even though Haraway is associated with posthumanism, she herself rejects the term: “I am not a posthumanist; I am who I become with companion species, who and which make a mess out of categories in the making of kin and kind” (Meet 19). She criticizes other scholars 37 Weil’s “A Report on the Animal Turn” sums up the issues and implications of the ethical turn in Critical Animal Studies: Derrida and Wolfe abolish the essential Animal and agree, that “[p]osthumanist ethical relations […] cannot be grounded on rational principles or scientific measures or brain activity or language.” (17) Taking such notions as normative rules excludes most nonhuman animals, some humans, and any alterity altogether from ethics. Weil identifies both the “stubborn humanism” (18) in effort to extend human rights to (certain) animals, as well as the defense of necessary but also inherently faulty rights whose unstable foundations fellow animal thinkers expose. Hence, critical animal studies–though still not denying human-animal differences–think of the human species as the animal with an essential ethical duty, and insist on “an analysis of the very construction of the ethical” (ibid.) as their imperative, too. 40 who are typically connected to this movement and carves out her own versions of certain concepts, for instance Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari’s ‘becoming animal’ which motivates her idea of ‘becoming with’. While applauding their work A Thousand Plateaus for “get[ting] beyond the Great Divide between humans and other critters to find the rich multitplicities and topologies of a heterogeneously and nonteleologically connected world” (Meet 27), she thoroughly critiques their thought piece, which centers on the idea of contagion between individuals and their alliances. According to Haraway this is “a philosophy of the sublime, not the earthly, not the mud; becoming-animal is not an autre-mondialisation” (Meet 28). ‘Becoming animal’ misses out on the “risky worldings” (Meet 27) in which all animals become available to one another. She not only finds the two philosophers’ thinking to be belittling pets, but also to be filled with “scorn for all that is mundane and ordinary and the profound absence of curiosity about or respect for and with actual animals” (ibid.). Structurally, the biologist appreciates their “rhizomatic thinking” (Meet 28) and recognizes a similar “arboreal descent” (Meet 30) in her CS concept. Ultimately however, Haraway asks for a larger, more entangled structure, and therefore compares her ‘becoming with’ to “a crystal-liquid consortium folding on itself again and again [rather] than a well-branched tree” (Meet 31p.). Similarly, Haraway follows but also critically reviews Giorgio Agamben’s ‘the open’ and his reading of Martin Heidegger’s statement about the abyssal separation of animals from humans. She demands to figure out “how to get to another kind of opening, the kind feminists and others who never had Heidegger’s starting point for Dasein of profound boredom can discern” (Meet 334). Her ‘open’ consists of a moment of ‘getting it’ instead of dullness, and consequently overcomes the alleged ‘lack of world’ of animals (and women): “This and here are who and where we are? What is to be done? How can respect and response flourish in this here 41 and this we, even as this we is the fruit of the entanglement?” (Meet 368; original emphasis) Her definition continues, saying that ‘the open’ for CS is “[n]ever certain, never guaranteed, [and] becomes possible in the contact zones and unruly edges” (ibid.); the human-canine relation during agility is her main example. Applying the major points of CS to horse-riding yields this description: Equitation connects a specific human and a specific horse who relate to each other significantly. As the figures of rider and mount they do not precede their relationship in the practice of riding and literally get in touch via physical-material (human and animal bodies, riding equipment, riding surface) as well as semiotic-symbolical contact zones (myth, stories and science). The companions go on together by moving in playful (prancing) and powerful (rein pulling, spur pushing) relatings. Riding produces its own world, where the entangled agents become with each other. They form a unit but stay uniquely themselves at the same time, which is a kind of involvement that can be illustrated in the expression ‘human/horse’. Haraway rarely mentions horses and riding in her works: she notes equines' pratical value for humans throughout a shared history (see Manifesto 13), and refers to research about the kinematic attunement of horses and riders in her chapter on training in the contact zone (see Meet 229p.). Nevertheless, the derivation of CS from interspecies relations based on company and ”’getting on together’”38 (Manifesto 98), the basic definition of CS as a shared material and semiotic connection that respects otherness, and the ideas of co-constitution and mutuality all make it applicable to equitation. Haraway’s concept therefore matches two main ideas of riding as action and experience as laid out by Meyer mentioned above (see 1.2.1): first, horse and rider 38 Haraway refers to Helen Verran here. 42 have an inclusive, impure Zweierbeziehung, and second, they make their own Reit-Welt. Horse-riding is a CS practice, in which the partners share an evolutionary, personal and historical connection–as do Lerch, Brauner, Hauke and Schimmel in Hofmannsthal’s and Storm’s novellas. The theories of Cultural Techniques (CT39) are the second methodological instrument in my CLAS interpretation of RG and SR. CT research is established at two institutions in Germany: the Hermann von Helmholtz-Zentrum für Kulturtechnik at the Humboldt University in Berlin, and the Internationales Kolleg für Kulturtechnikforschung und Medienphilosophie40 (IKKM) founded in 2008 at the Bauhaus University in Weimar. In this thesis, I use theories authored by IKKM scholars such as Bernhard Siegert and Harun Maye, as well as others working in the field such as Erhard Schüttpelz, Thomas Macho and Geoffrey Winthrop-Young. Regarding the terminology, three things have to be taken into account. First, since the concept of Kulturtechniken originates in German, the English term ‘cultural techniques’41 is an aid to connect to the international research community. Alternative expressions such as ‘cultural technologies’, ‘culture-technics’ or ‘culture technics’ often do not cover the German semantics fully, but create a varied emphasis due to the different meanings of the core elements. Kultur and Technik are not synonymous with ‘culture’ and ‘technology’ in the Anglo-American philosophical tradition (see Winthrop-Young, “Remarks”).42 Second, the concept is thought in the plural and as pluralistic: CT produce cultures. This not only implies multi-culturality, but also 39 I will henceforth use this abbreviation, which implies the plural ‘techniques’ unless specified as a singular. 40 See http://www.ikkm-weimar.de/. 15 December 2016. Web. 41 As most scholars who participate in both the German and English discussions of the concept, I choose this translation of Kulturtechniken throughout my text. 42 Winthrop-Young explains how Technik covers anything from artefacts to skills and procedures, while ‘technique’ comprises skills and procedures and ‘technology’ comprises all sorts of artefacts, but since the former includes more aspects than the latter it is slightly closer to the German term and therefore a better compromise (see “Remarks” 16p.). Since I focus on horse-riding as an interspecies procedure involving certain drills, routines, habituations etc. the tendency towards the practical facet furthermore warrants the use of ‘technique’ over ‘technology’, though particular gadgets, tools and infrastructure also play a role in equitation. 43 “a posthumanist understanding of culture that no longer posits man as the exclusive subject of culture” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 58). When describing a practice that is separated from the network of linked chains of operations in a concrete analysis, the grammatical singular form is certainly warranted: Horse-riding is a cultural technique, and it contains and connects to other cultural techniques, for example domestication, horse-shoe, hippodrome etc. Finally, the threefold conceptual change of the German expression throughout its existence and repeated emergence in the intellectual discourse influences the application of the term in general, and my argumentation in particular. Introduced in the 1890s as a new academic discipline, Kulturtechniken primarily involve “forms of land improvement” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 380) such as irrigation, draining and other regulations of soil. They add technical skills to the realm of agricultural methods and can be translated as ‘environmental engineering’. The second meaning of the term describes “the skills and aptitudes involved in the use of modern media” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 381) and enters the discussion in the 1970s due to the increasing use of TV, VCR etc. Such mass media require specific manual and mental skills, so that in this case Kulturtechniken is rendered as ‘media competence’. The notion of CT I use in this thesis is the third, current and “theoretically most sophisticated conceptualization” (Winthrop-Young, “Remarks” 4) of the German term: CT now are, in an initial definition, “Praktiken und Verfahren der Erzeugung von Kultur, die […] als Bedingung der Möglichkeit von Kultur überhaupt begriffen werden“ (Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 116). Even though the semantic change happens consecutively, all three terms are used parallel. This triple entry of Kulturtechniken, together with the different definitions by current theorists, makes for a difficult but also multi-layered concept driven by comprehensive, contradicting tensions and full of potential for various specific applications (Winthrop-Young, “Remarks” 4). 44 As Winthrop-Young shows, this is possible due to the renegotiation and widening of involved concepts such as Kultur/culture (and its opposition to Zivilisation/civilization), Natur/nature (and its the opposition to Kultur/culture), Technik/technique (to which the body is added) and even Medien/media (to which elementary practices such as writing are added) throughout German and English intellectual history (“Remarks” 4). Ultimately, the agricultural, medial and action-theoretical terms are intertwined and invoking them together is a way to cope with the intricate operations between subjects, objects and the ideas they observe and describe. Interweaving aspects of earthiness, in-betweenness and practice works as well for CT such as domestication, sovereignty or horse-riding in literature. Deepening the abovementioned definition of CT with details about what or who is involved in culture-engendering practices, how they work and how to look at them, Siegert sums up: “Post-hermeneutic rather than anti-hermeneutic in its outlook, the reconceptualization of cultural techniques aims at presenting them as chains of operations that link humans, things, media and even animals” (“Cultural Techniques” 48). By breaking away from the hermeneutic cycle and exploring the products of knowledge beyond a framework of textual exegesis, CT research turns to the material spirals and networking structures of knowledge production instead. They are “complex spatial and temporal knowledge systems” (Parikka 154), which is why I enrich my cultural literary analysis with Jahrhundertwende horsemanship manuals and current research on equitation. A central characteristic of CT is that they are “conceived as operative chains that precede the media concepts they generate” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 58), meaning that practices come before constructed ideas. For instance, writing is conducted independent from and before the conceptualizations of script. The focus of analysis shifts from the traditional, Platonic priority 45 of the ontological to favouring the ontic. This is “a move inspired by Heidegger’s ontic-ontological distinction” (Parikka 152) and can be clarified as follows: “The study of cultural techniques provides a kind of flanking manoeuvre by relating the thinking of Sein (Being) to the processing and operating of bits and pieces of Seiendes (beings)” (Winthrop-Young, “Remarks” 10). CT are about ‘doing culture’ or even ‘doing doing’. Within these doings, practices and operations, literally all kinds of agents matter, including artefacts, animals, machines and also media that have not been considered in the creation of culture before. This acceptance of “the mixed nature of the cultural medial assemblages [as] meshes of human and non-human actors” (Parikka 151) causes the converging of CT scholarship with posthumanism and Animal Studies. Interlinked operations implicate a certain recursiveness and for some researchers also a “potential self-reference” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 59) which is achieved via symbolic work. To give an example, it is possible to write about writing. Macho calls such CT ‘second order techniques’ (see “Second-Order Animals”) and thus distinguishes them from first order ‘real technologies’. This notion is problematic since it bases “on static concepts of technologies and symbolic work, that is, on an ontologically operating differentiation between first and second order techniques” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 60). Instead of separating these two types, a concentration on the recursive chains of operations makes room for an even more “processual definition” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 61) which integrates so-called elementary CT with a narrow definition of medium, such as writing, and so-called eminent CT with a broader idea of media, such as body techniques (see Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 89). An inclusive approach like that not only allows more and multi-layered nonhuman agents and chained activities to be CT, but also makes us aware of the privileged act of excluding some 46 technologies or enclosing cultural products. Ultimately it can be said: “Alle Techniken sind Kulturtechniken” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 90). This apparent variability of the concept evokes a valid critique: what is not a CT when the definitions are so vague and all-encompassing? The scholarship is aware of the lack of programmatic accuracy but embraces it: “Diese Vielfalt der möglichen Gegenstände erscheint zugleich als programmatische Stärke und Schwäche” (Maye, “Was ist” 126). Nonetheless, it is an outright asset that CT research integrates formerly declared ‘miscellaneous’ phenomena, over which communication studies, media history, literary analysis and other disciplines struggled (see Maye, “Was ist” 126; see Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 95pp.). The concept Kulturtechnik counts as a “vielversprechendes, aber noch unterbestimmtes Kompositum” (Maye, “Was ist” 127) and seems to be a particularly potent phenomenon of the turn-plagued cultural and literary studies. It is also a productive notion that promotes innovative reassessments of the central terms culture, technology, and medium (see Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 146). The aforementioned broadening of the ‘medium’ concept is substantiated by Michel Serres’ theory of the parasite, a central reference in CT research (see Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 101pp.). Combining both the agricultural roots and the media- and culture-theoretical components of CT, Serres’ model also avoids the reduction to technology and allows the connection of all kinds of cultural doings. Forging the figure of the parasite establishes a moment of in-betweenness, which helps overcome Western tradition of binary schemes such as subject-object, silence-noise, inside-outside etc. By recognizing the moment of differentiation as an intrinsic, productive third element in any pairing, a spectrum of mediation and liminality opens up; it includes what has been excluded and thus both sustains and destabilizes what is declared different. Not only is one thing different from a second other, but “[e]s gibt ein Drittes vor dem Zweiten; es gibt einen Dritten vor dem anderen. 47 [...] Es gibt stets ein Medium, eine Mitte, ein Vermittelndes”43 (Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 104). That third, whether it is an animal (parasite), a person (merchant), a symbol (‚-‚ or ‚/‘) or a thing (doors) is a CT. This “position of the third, an interface between the real and the symbolic [is] an unmarked space” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 62), in which practices such as horse-riding unfold. Applying the main aspects of CT to equitation results in the following definition: Horse-riding connects humans and horses in recursive chains of operations linking riders with mounts, especially their bodies and other artefacts such as tack, gear, horse shoes or terrain in a concatenated network. Riding is an ongoing culturally productive procedure which precedes concepts of horsemanship: Menschen reiten lange bevor sie Reitkunst beschreiben. Horse-riding engenders symbolic work (e.g. riding manuals or research) and it also has potential for self-reference, if classical dressage can be considered ‘riding about riding’ since its exercises ‘quote’ natural horse movements such as prancing and rearing. Riding is an interspecies practice and a medium that negotiates traditionally distinct notions of human/nonhuman in concrete interlinking, as this equation illustrates: 1 – 3 – 2 rider – riding – mount Horse-riding is never mentioned as a a concrete example in the scholarship of CT, but can be considered included in Siegert’s thoughts on domestication, breeding and other practices that blur the humanimal distinction through intertwining techniques (see “Cultural Techniques” 56). However, the basic definition including “even animals” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 48) as agents, the explicit reference to anglophone Animal Studies, and the accompanying expansion of 43 Siegert quotes Michel Serres in his own translation here. 48 the anthropological difference beyond man and machine, all make the CT concept open for an application to horse-riding. The ideas of CT thus fit two important notions of Meyer’s conceptualization of riding as action and experience (see 1.2.1): primarily, horse and rider’s bodies connect and are chained together via a handfeste Berührung, and they additionally share a technical skill-set of Reiten-Können. Horse-riding is a CT and involves CT, by interlinking agents of all kinds in concatenated operations–as can be seen with the human and equine protagonists in RG and SR. 1.3.3 Writing Practice and Outline The theoretical framework and the two particular methodological approaches introduced not only inform the following literary investigation but also influence the style of this thesis. CLAS, CS and CT adopt inherent modus operandi of posthumanist research, which are not only applicable within an analysis but also on its formal level: they provide what to write about and a practice of how to write about it (see Borgards, “Introduction” 158). Despite locating my work in this new field, the development of innovative strategies for insightful ways of ‘writing after the animal turn’ is a significant prerequisite of my contribution to CLAS. Therefore it is necessary to elaborate the effects of the theories on my writing, wording and the world of this text. There are three relevant ramifications: the entanglements between scholars and scholarly work, the resulting enmeshment of writing and different kinds of riding in my case, and some concrete textual and linguistic consequences. First of all, Haraway’s CS concepts of ‘becoming with’ and ‘the open’, the former’s unfolding world and the latter’s embracing of instable ideas are reminiscent of the entangling in-between, to and fro, back and forth, and up and down of the CT horse-riding. In addition, they 49 are reminiscent of interdisciplinary and interpersonally connected CLAS-style research, in which scholars, their chosen topic and their texts ‘become with’ each other in ‘the open’. According to Borgards, there exists a peculiar analogy between the research of humanimal encounters and the encounters within the community of researchers who enrich each other’s work. In his talk on Kafka’s Wunsch, Indianer zu werden he names CLAS members who provide him with texts about riding techniques or the first horses in North America. Borgards explains that these references have anecdotal value, but are also symptomatic for CLAS scholarship: So funktionieren und dies sind die Cultural and Literary Animal Studies: hochgradig vernetzt, disziplinär breit gestreut, nachgerade diskussionsversessen, vernarrt ins Spurenlesen und Spurenlegen, als methodisch-theoretisches Setting noch in Bewegung, aber zugleich doch mittlerweile schon mit einer vagen Kontur. Ich selbst hätte ohne dieses Netz nicht die geringste Chance, die Dinge, die ich schreiben will, auch wirklich schreiben zu können. (“Indianer“) CLAS is also a network of “people who get dirty and knowledgeable” (Haraway, Manifesto 80), a group that fosters writing in a way which fuses the individual member’s knowledge “as a scholar and as a person in [their] time and place” (Haraway, Manifesto 3). They attempt to let go of the notion of an independent, wholly-informed and simply observing scholar and encourage enthusiastic participantion in the Animal Studies discourse, which is in fact enhanced by a certain uncertainty about humans and animals (see Smith 332). Every text is unavoidably and therefore undisguisedly personal, and also “a foray into too many half known territories” (Haraway, Manifesto 3). The latter requires a skeptical view of disciplinary differences and similarities, objectivist stances and systematic categories or conventions. Accepting the heterogeneous objects and subjects of this field by avoiding universal judging criteria allows for new ways of literary criticism (see Smith 333). 50 For a scholar of literature and culture this means to embrace a posthumanist, quixotic Ausritt into CS and ES, whipped on by Wissbegierde and Weltoffenheit for the animal as well as the academic Other, and reined in by respect for experimental set-ups, exact measures and statistical evaluation. I read the words and extract the data tying one more loop into the horse-human-riding-knowledge-knot. As a CLAS researcher, this means to acknowledge previous anthropocentric research on the novellas, that either contributes valuable readings which connect to posthuman thinking or which miss animal agency and thus confirm that my emphasis on it is relevant. While such well-established literary criticism is referenced separately in footnotes, quotes from the current methodological sources are tightly intertwined with the text.44 The second type of enmeshing thesis topic, text and knowledge production affects two different but similar kinds of riding with writing. Since I pursue equitation and motorcycling, cyborg insights about riding machines instead of companion animals also influence this dissertation and its vocabulary. In Riding with Rilke: Reflections on Motorcycles and Books, Ted Bishop develops a concept that combines riding and writing to describe the practice of producing paragraphs in the mind while sitting in the saddle of a motorcycle: Back on the Ducati I juggled adjectives as I bounced down the road. […] I had to watch it, this writing in my helmet. Late in the afternoon I would often write while I rode. Effortless prose that would snarl as soon as I tried to put it on the page. This wriding/riting was dangerous. […] [M]y internal writer turned off the depth perception and I wouldn’t notice that vehicles in front of me were slowing or had stopped. The engine was revving hard in second gear, forgotten while my 44 Haraway similarly treats the Western canon of mostly male philosophers and scientists: Marx, Freud and others (e.g. her own sports journalist father) are picked out but passed over quickly. However, many less well-known female researchers are quoted extensively in her manifesto. In When Species Meet, established theories and their thorough critique are put into the extensive endnotes, which makes the reader hover between the pages and cross thresholds similar to a writer/rider. 51 mind drifted. ‘Sorry,’ I said to the bike, and shifted up. I had better stop thinking about riding and ride. (73) Wriding45 produces texture in the form of letters on paper and as tire tracks and hoof prints on the street and the soil. Bishop continues thinking the ground that is ridden on not only as a reason or result, but also as a surface and storage for personal words and naturalcultural worlds, saying: A road too is a text. In a car you read the map, but on a bike you read the road. You look for the shiny black of tar strips; they’re murderously slick in rain and they turn soft goo in the heat and will slide you sideways. (…) You watch for ridges clawed in the road by the machines preparing a road for new asphalt. (…) You also have to watch out for grooves in the road. Ruts, of course, but also the worn lanes of heavily used traffic corridors in cities. (…) You learn to watch for oil slicks at intersections or anywhere cars have to stop. (…) Manhole covers, crosswalks, the white line, the yellow line, any kind of painted line; railway tracks and tram tracks; glass, sand, gravel, fruit, dung, blood–anything on the road except the road is a hazard. (137p.) Road text(ure) seems to be mostly about processing difference and therefore a place for a differentiating practice such as motorcycling, for which the structure of street surface plays an important role for plain physical matters, aus ganz erdigen Gründen: two-wheeled traction, Bodenhaftung, depends on it in a complex play of gravity, inertia and centrifugal forces. Another wrider, Melissa Holbrook Pierson, in The Perfect Vehicle: What it is about Motorcycles further describes riding as an up and down, side to side, border-breaking, liminal activity, discovering that it is often seen as “an occupation defined by duplicities” (9) between man and machine or journey and goal, but in fact resembles a complicated dance in an “equilibrium of give and take” (8) to a point where “the going has taken on a life of its own” (12) and becomes a third thing. She reviews the various sentiments of motorcycling as a way to ground and connect with nature 45 Since ‘rite’ already has a meaning, I will stick to Bishop’s creation ‘wride’ in the following and use it like a proper verb. 52 while realizing at the same time that “[t]here is no feeling like it on earth” (106), or rather, how being motorized is a means “to move ceaselessly over the earth” (153)–‘earth’ as in the ground ridden on and the planet as a whole. One explanation for the unique sensation of riding a motorcycle involves “weirdly floating moments” (237) and comes down to this: Riding is something that hovers between you and the road. Or rather, it is about removing as much as possible between you and the road, about extending yourself past the very vehicle that enables you to feel the road in the first place. So in one sense, it’s about the way a road moves past you. (233) While riders on motorized vehicles read the road, wride their thoughts into the ground and thus ground themselves, another dimension of connection beyond the human is added in equitation: the communication texture between horse and rider. Holbrook Pierson, who also works on horse-riding and the relationship of women with equines (see Dark Horses), describes the perspective of a former Pferdemädchen returning to riding lessons after years of motorcycling. In a course with trainer Dominique that concentrates on “working with the horse and his biomechanical abilities” (“Begin Again” 97; original emphasis), she thrives on “a natural talent for communicating with a horse” (“Begin Again” 98; original emphasis) and marvels at the magical moment when Dandy the horse seems to read her mind: Near the end of the lesson, Dominique called out to me, ‘Now, I want you to think about stopping.’ I had already figured out that my former wisdom concerning stopping, usually presented by my teachers as ‘Pull back on the reins,’ wasn’t going to wash in this particular arena, not since notions of sense and weight and flow and breath and relaxation and lack of resistance had already been delivered as cornerstones of Dominique’s methodology. So I did what she said. A voice inside my head whispered, ‘Stop,’ and that is all. Dandy took not one step more. It was a miracle, and I reacted appropriately, sputtering and then sinking into bemusement. (“Begin Again” 101) 53 All in all, these textual convergences of writing, reading, more writing and riding constitute wriding this dissertation. Lastly, the theoretical and methodological framework has four implications for the linguistic style and script of this thesis. Feature one: Studying posthuman world-making is accompanied by playful word-making and boldly marked knots of knowledge production. CLAS scholarship is a work permanently in progress, so even if the telos is a clearly circumscribed text, results occur on the way and the research is ongoing. This is performed by variations in the verbiage that tells the truth: “All language swerves and trips; there is never direct meaning” (Haraway, Manifesto 20). Instead, there are metaplasms, meaning any kind of change in a word from adding, cutting to inverting letters, syllables or sounds (Haraway, Manifesto 20p.). CLAS-style writing deconstructs the etymology of words, species and practices, it is critical of objectivism and characterized by a playful dance of “ontological choreography” (Haraway, Manifesto 100) that does not forget about the ontic. It formulates “[f]lesh and signifier, bodies and words, stories and worlds” (Haraway, Manifesto 20). As CLAS avoids to enforce absolute truths, their observations of entanglements “demand respect and response–rather than rising to sublime and final ends” (Haraway, Meet 15). Such moments of re-search on the way are therefore marked as densely concentrated contributions to the field, rather than only formulating a definite conclusion at the end. The language used to describe humanimal entanglements, syntactic symbols and script style seems important as well, since these signs can help illustrate the human-horse relations and the operations of riding. CS are “at least two” (Haraway, Manifesto 12) involved parties. Nevertheless, they should not be pressed into binary dualisms since they “are products of their relating” (Haraway, Manifesto 7). This relating includes “multidirectional flows” (Haraway, 54 Manifesto 9) between similarly involved agents, as well as “otherness-in-connection” (Haraway, Manifesto 45). Combining these ideas in the form of punctuation is the slash: it divides conjoined elements, replacing both the conjunctions ‘or’ between alternatives and ‘and’ between non-contradictory items. Lerch/Brauner neither describes a dichotomy (Lerch<->Brauner) nor a complete fusion (lerchbrauner, LerchBrauner), since “[o]ne is too few, but two are too many” (Haraway, “Cyborg” 177). Hence, this multiple hybrid can be followed by a verb in singular or plural. The slash stands for a strong coupling that allows certain contradicitons, it signals a boundary between them which is also challenged to be “frayed, insubstantial” (ibid.). CS studies observe the porous borders between human, animal, material and grammatical subjects and objects which are negotiated via a “chain of operations” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 48). There must also be a focus on the linkage and concatentation of rider and horse. CT theory similarly acknowledges distinctions such as human/animal, horse/rider etc. and at the same time considers their recursiveness in ongoing ramifications such as wild animal/domesticated animal, sitting on a horse/riding a horse etc. With this “Priorität der Operationsketten” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 91) comes a cyclical connection of actors in a network, as well as an emphasis on their processuality, mediality and “the position of the third” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 62) between them. Collecting these notions in the form of punctuation is the hyphen: it has connecting and separating qualities, as it creates compounds or cuts off affixes. Hauke and Schimmel are chained together as Hauke-Schimmel, which allows for the unmarked interface to be filled with further agents (e.g. Hauke-spurs-Schimmel) or activities (e.g. Hauke-spurring-Schimmel). The hyphen signals a link, opens up a zone of liminality, makes the two elements possible in the first place and generates the possible further linkage between them. Since “cultural techniques always have to take account of what they exclude” (ibid.), this third 55 emerging from material and symbolical entanglements is the centre of my thesis’ untangling processes. These conceptualizations lead to feature two of my text: CS are connected/separated by a semi-permeable slash, CT are interlinked by a relational hyphen, both signs indicate zones of joint action rather than clear borders between human and equine characters. Feature three: Brauner and Schimmel are treated as proper names instead of simple German words, which is why they are not paired up with articles, are not italicized, and are referred to by masculine pronouns. Both novellas feature horses technically entangled with humans: in RG Brauner and Wachtmeister Lerch,46 in SR the Deichgraf Hauke and Schimmel. Whereas both humans have proper names and professional titles, the equines are named after the colour of their fur. Brauner’s name derives from the adjective braun, meaning ‘brown’, which is nominalized by capitalization and the suffix –er. With that comes gendering shown through the masculine article der and the pronoun er, deduced from the biological sex of the actual horse, most likely a gelding. This adjective-gone-noun and subsequently noun-gone-name can be translated as ‘brown one’.47 Schimmel’s name, best translated as grey horse,48 is even more 46 Fewster examines the human names in RG and concludes that Hofmannsthal’s onomastic design represents the order and hierarchy of the 19th century Austrian army’s historical reality; he also interprets Vuic as rendered from the Croatian vuica as “’she-wolf’” (“Onomastics” 34)–as does Mauser (see 104)–and Lerch as the ‘lark’ in the German idiom “’eine Lerche schießen’” (37)–as does Exner (see 47)–but the horses’ names are never mentioned. 47 Mary Hottinger renders Brauner as ‘the bay’ in her translation of RG as “Tale of the Cavalry” (see J.D. McClatchy (ed.). The Whole Difference: Selected Writings of Hugo von Hofmannsthal. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008. Print.). This is a nominalization of the colour adjective ‘bay’, which specifically refers to chestnut brown horses. 48 Muriel Almon renders the title of SR as The Rider of the White Horse (see Kuno Francke (ed.). The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: Master Pieces of German Literature translated into English. Vol. 11. New York: The German Publication Society, 1914. 225-342. Print.), Margarete Münsterberg (see Charles William Eliot and William Allan Neilson (eds.). The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction. Vol. 15. New York: P.F. Collier & Son, 1917. 179-291. Print.) and James Wright (see James Wright (transl.). The Rider on the White Horse. New York: New York Review Books Classics, 2009. Print.) render it as The Rider on the White Horse. These translations are problematic in a CLAS context for several reasons: First, Schimmel is not a white but a grey horse; second, it puts the rider instead of Schimmel in the foreground; and third, it lacks the layer of interlinkage which the German compound gives the figure. A better solution is Denis Jackson’s translation The Dykemaster (see Denis 56 complex: der Schimmel has multiple meanings in German, namely ‘mold’ as well as ‘white horse’. According to equine breeding specifics, however, only horses with white fur and skin are white, and only grey horses with dark skin and eyes–like Schimmel–are Schimmel. Brauner and Schimmel are Bezeichnungen describing a type of horse, rather than being names for individuals. Symbolic designation and fleshy bodies, as well as plurality and singularity coincide in these Texttiere and create figures consisting of heroes and horses.49 These overlaps are also an unsteady and swaying phenomenon: Reiter. As the analyses (see 3. and 4.) will show, RG plays with the ambiguities of the Reiter figures involved, which float between singular, Doppelgänger and plural or between species, specimen and genres. Lerch/Brauner literally hover over the landscape together as a Gestalt or Wesen. The Reiter in SR is part of a word/body compound whose components are attached to each other and amalgamate to an extent, but also create a constant edge. Hauke’s name resolves in the new union, while Schimmel’s ‘improper’ name remains present in Schimmelreiter. The CS horses Brauner and Schimmel, called er in the novellas, constitute agents in the CT of horse-riding, which is why they are treated as namebearing subjects and referred to as ‘he’ in my analysis. While the German grammatical gender in this case is in accord with the sex of the male animals, both horses would from a “grammatically orthodox” (Fudge 87) point of view be ‘it’ in English, and referred to as ‘that’ instead of ‘who’, which is part of the “object-making” (ibid.) companion animals are subject to. These peculiarities of English and German regarding the naming and gendering of animals lead Jackson (transl.) The Dykemaster. London: Angel Books, 1996. Print.), which refers to Schimmel as ‘the grey’, and calls the Schimmelreiter ‘the man on the grey horse’. 49 These figures are somewhat embedded in a web of cultural icons and the traditional association of light and dark horses ridden by the good hero or the evil antagonist. This dichotomy of colours as a way to reveal the nature of the Hero–and never the nature of horses–was reinforced in the emerging black-and-white movies of the Jahrhundertwende where they were easier to identify on a monochrome background (see Walker 173pp.). 57 to feature four of this thesis: Deutsche Wörter set in italics appear in quotes from the literary texts, as well as outside of citations once they are introduced and translated into English, or when they are the perfect fit to make a point or provide the most accurate meaning. Analyzing German literature in English entails certain issues for my writing practice, as does the genre of dissertation. According to MLA guidelines, proper names–no matter which language–are set upright and capitalized, whereas foreign-language nouns are italicized.50 Brauner and Schimmel present a predicament since they are grammatically, as shown above, German nouns and should thus be set in italics. Brauner or der Braune and der Schimmel are words. But taking their figuration as a companion, their technical agency in the practice of riding, as well as their protagonist status in the stories into account, they are namebearers and the words should be set upright. Brauner and Schimmel are names. Yet, being such word/name hybrids is incorporated in a CLAS context, where the two horses are grammatical words, German nouns, concrete bodies, semiotic beings, Texttiere and figures with agency who ride and are written. I therefore entangle Brauner and Schimmel productively into this text’s upright script, rather than exposing them as problematisch. Summing up the introductory chapter’s reasoning, research topics and theoretical framework, plus their features reflected in this text: I am am a Pferdemädchen and motorcyclist, as well as a German native speaker who writes a dissertation in English about horse-riding in two novellas of the Jahrhundertwende. To analyse RG and SR I employ current trans-atlantically-connected posthuman theories, which are embedded in a CLAS approach. CT concepts emphasize nonhuman agency in general, CS concepts stress animal agency in particular, and 50 See p. 79. The Modern Language Association of America. MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers. 7th ed. New York: MLA, 2009. Print. 58 both theories together open up the context of thirds, worlds, nature and culture. Applied scientific research on horse-riding and contemporary manuals serve to untangle the equestrian encounters in the stories by Hofmannsthal and Storm, which so far have mostly been studied from an anthropocentric perspective. This dissertation contributes to the study of riding and to cultural-literary researching methods in the form of wriding. The research questions resulting from all aforementioned reflections are the following: What factors does the experience riding involve? What happens between the horses and the riders? How are the in-betweens that occur in riding structured? What are liminal characteristics of riding? How does riding entangle CS? How do CT link in riding? What is the relationship between horse-riding and larger contexts beyond the humanimal encounter? What is the relationship of equitation in these novellas and (equitation in) the era of their production? How can I write about riding? The following chapters gradually untangle certain problematic nodes of riding and produce new knots of knowledge; the writing is interlinked and loops around them. Chapter 2 introduces the methodology of my investigation in detail: the Companion Species (2.1) and Cultural Techniques (2.2) approach are presented briefly, before I elaborate on the four analytical concepts extracted from these theories (2.1.1, 2.1.2, 2.2.1, 2.2.2) and explain the associated applications to horse-riding (2.1.3 and 2.2.3) Next, I entangle CS and CT principles, filter out their structural similarities (2.3), and generate four new tools for an even more intricate analysis (2.3.1-2.3.4). The main chapters are close readings of the two case studies Reitergeschichte (3.) and Der Schimmelreiter (4.), dissecting each text with the use of the described CS and CT notions and their practical applications (3.1 and 4.1), followed by 59 entangling the novellas with three of the newly gained structural concepts that suit them best (3.2 and 4.2). Rather than a fixed conclusion, chapter 5. is a reflection on the processuality of CLAS research results. It sums up my analyses for both texts (5.1.1 and 5.1.2), compares the two (5.1.3), and extracts earthiness as the most relevant characteristic of equitation in the novellas (5.2). This leads to my interpretation of horse-riding in RG and SR as symptomatic for the unsettling developments in humanimal relationships, and the intellectual and material urge for both grounding and elevation during the Jahrhundertwende era; I argue that current theory covers these intricacies comprehensively (5.3). I then repostion my work and present possible further research on horsewomanship or in the field of Environmental Humanities (5.4). The outro reflects on initial thoughts about riding, writing and wriding (5.5). 60 2. Methodology 2.1 Companion Species I select two ideas from Haraway’s CS theory which are prolific for my interpretation of the novellas: figures and contact zones. She introduces both in When Species Meet (2008) and shows how they function together: “Figures help me grapple inside the flesh of mortal world-making entanglements that I call contact zones” (4). RG and SR are filled with a multitude of flesh-and-blood humanimal relations, a mélange of communication, touch and material impact, and overlapping environments. Therefore, these two notions can discern the negotiations of liminality within the worlds of the stories and where they tie knots with realities, specifically the ones regarding horse-riding. 2.1.1 Figures This concept makes for one of Haraway’s main methodological devices. It always appears in the grammatical plural and is conceived of as pluralistic as well. Deconstructing its derivation from Latin figura, meaning the ‘shape’ or ‘form’ of a word or drawing, this noun has multiple entries in both English and German dictionaries: it can stand for ‘numeral’ or ‘number’, describe the human body, a drawing or diagram, indicate ‘motif’, choreography or character, pattern or texture, (famous) person or thing, as well as Gebilde, Gestalt, Zeichnung, Zeichen, Körper, Charakter and Wesen. Seemingly combining different domains of science, art, rhetoric speech, games and sports, Haraway’s sense of the equally eclectic derivate ‘figuration’ implies an older 18th century English meaning of “’chimerical vision’” (Meet 4). Figures can be monstrous or mundane, there are many of them, they contain a multitude of faces, and coalesce multiple layers of significance, which figure in both cultural and literary products as well as the material world. 61 Haraway defines figures in three steps: first, they “are not representations or didactic illustrations, but rather material-semiotic nodes or knots in which diverse bodies and meanings coshape one another” (ibid.). Whenever flesh and blood creatures intermingle with signs and symbols, a figure is formed, or rather, is constantly forming, since figuration is an ongoing dance of beings-in-encounter (see Meet 4p.). Literally all kinds of animate or inanimate, organic or technological kinds entangle and then mutually constitute each other through interaction. “The partners do not precede the meeting” (Meet 4) in these teams of meaning-making matter; they are simultaneously subjects and objects in operations and shape each other in mutual responses, which results in “unpredictable kinds of ‘we’” (Meet 5). The horse-rider-union in equitation is an example of such a ‘we’, or from the analyst’s perspective: ‘they’. In a further step, figures are not only “cobbled together” (Manifesto 4) in realities, but defined to “have always been where the biological and literary or artistic come together with all the force of lived reality” (Meet 4). They are at the same time creatures of imagination and possibility, as well as of fierce, ordinary real-life. They float through texts and ground down-to-earth stories, making “the dimensions tangle and require response” (ibid.) in the written text as well as in the worldly context. Interspecies activities are always at least about this doubleness, but do often add even more layers of material or sense to their practice, such as horse, human, tack, text and terrain do when they mix and make worlds by riding. This playful making and unmaking of categories such as kin or kind emerges in “the thick and dynamic particularities of relationships-in-progress” (Meet 134), which ultimately interlink and lead to a companion species world. In this world, biographies of individual figures and blending textures of figure communities can flourish. 62 Haraway points out how writing is crucial to the Western system of cultural distinctions, such as literacy/orality or primitive/civilized, and therefore focuses on authoritative, singular literary works. However, she suggests “[r]eleasing the play of writing” (“Cyborg” 175)–and consequently also, that “[r]eadings must be engaged and produced” (“Reading” 114), to break up such binaries of written and read fiction. Stories “could all be microcosms for thinking about companion species and the invention of tradition in the flesh, as well as the text” (Manifesto 86). In her chart of transformation–e.g. Nature/Culture to natureculture–(see “Cyborg” 161p.), Haraway opposes the old hierarchical genre of the bourgeois novel and the literary movement of realism with new networks such as science fiction and postmodernism. As elaborated above though, genre and style are less relevant in my posthuman, posthermeneutic analysis, and I therefore apply her idea of writing as a playful release of “mis-readings, re-readings, partial readings, imposed readings, and imagined readings” (“Reading” 124) as well. Regarding literature, figures might not be readable at first sight, so any kind of symbolic expression or verbal imagery is helpful for a reading beyond the human: “Tropes are what make us want to look and need to listen for surprises that get us out of inherited boxes” (Manifesto 32). Lastly, the researcher is constructed by and comprised in these intermingling, earthy processes of writing, reading and figuration herself, which is what Haraway means when she writes: “My body itself is just such a figure, literally” (ibid.). The human body hosts millions of microscopic creatures, lives and miniature worlds, just as it is inhabiting its own micro- and macrocosms that overlap with nature, culture, (hi)stories, other human or nonhuman animals, and artefacts within certain times and spaces. Therefore, figures and figurations are constantly folding and unfolding on various levels and in various worlds, from Texttier to terra, from symbols to symbioses, from the animal other to the observing analyst. Through these 63 (un)foldings, the already cohabiting “[s]ign and flesh; story and fact” (Manifesto 18) are coupled together. Figures, figurations and figuring are not only methodological tools to analyse horse, rider and horseriders in RG and SR, but also constitute the practical reading and writing process when interpreting facts and fiction. 2.1.2 Contact Zones Central in the CS approach, this concept is mainly concerned with aspects of humanimal training techniques and especially notions of power and play. Haraway’s object of study is agility, a human-canine sport in which a handler directs their dog through an obstacle course race. Not only because this activity indirectly derives from horse jumping (see Manifesto 58; Meet 209) can a line be drawn between agility and equitation: in both cases humans and animals act as a team, not in the abstract sense of the Human and the Animal in an asymbolical union, but as particular partners51 for whom training together is “a historically located, multispecies, subject-shaping encounter in a contact zone” (Meet 205). The traditional taming of animals as part of domestication personalizes and familiarizes the pet member of the team in a way that can turn him or her into a “lesser human by courtesy of sexualization and naming” (Meet 207). However, CS’ contact zones do not deal with Western humanist personhood but with “the query proper to serious relationships among significant others” (Meet 208). Therefore, the use of ‘human’ personal pronouns is preferred over ‘it’, ‘that’, ‘which’ etc. when describing the nonhumans in these interspecies relations. 51 The term ‘partners’ is actually preferred over ‘handler’, ‘guardian’ or ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, since it pays attention to the asymmetrical relations and the dogs’ authority, adulthood and skill (see Meet 225). 64 Looking for a concept describing the prehensions between dog and handler during agility, Haraway comes across the term ‘contact zones’ among fellow researchers in anthropology, biology, chemistry, (post)colonial and cultural studies. Its meaning meanders along species assemblages with unruly edges,52 the reciprocal transformation of embryonic cells,53 the perspective of co-presence and practice in the interlocking between speakers of different native languages,54 or articulations among cultures, nations and regions based on a paradigm without sociocultural wholes but with developing relational systems instead.55 Adding aspects of “naturalcultural and multispecies matters” (Meet 217) and an extension to “ecological, evolutionary, and historical diversity” (ibid.) contributes to a patchwork definition of Haraway’s entangled-entangling contact zones: They are “where the action is, and current interactions change interactions to follow” (Meet 219), they actively practice “material-semiotic exchange” (Meet 206) between interspecies subjects, and they “change the subject–all the subjects–in surprising ways” (ibid.). Furthermore, they begin with paying attention to each other, blossom in ‘becoming with’ each other and make individuals blend together in an interspecies ‘open’. Considering training of, or rather ‘with’ animals, contact zones are about face-to-face response and a communicative tension located between power and play. Power is asymmetrical when it comes to authority: the partners are “jointly altered but still unidentical” (Meet 241). They participate in “the complexity of different kinds of unequal power that do not always go in the expected direction” (Meet 218), and in which the human designer of the activity is obligated to respond to the animal’s authority. Communication is 52 Haraway refers to Anna Tsing’s research (see Meet 218). 53 Haraway refers to her own work in Yale’s Biology department in the 1980s and Scott Gilbert’s research in developmental biology (see Meet 219). 54 Haraway refers to Mary Pratt’s research on imperialism (see Meet 216). 55 Haraway refers to Jim Clifford’s work (see Meet 217). 65 possible despite species and power difference, because “we are not the ‘other’ […but] we are not the ‘self’ [either]” (Meet 226). But Haraway is firm that “[t]o claim not to be able to communicate with and to know one another and other critters, however imperfectly, is a denial of mortal entanglements […] for which we are responsible and in which we respond” (ibid.). Play is arbitrary and aimless: it is a practice “that makes us new, that makes us something that is neither one nor two, that brings us into the open where purposes and functions are given a rest” (Meet 237). The ‘open’ is filled with “potentially infinite inventiveness” (ibid.) forming an unexpected and nonteleogical repertoire. In this case, communication does not need (human) language, conscience or any continuity between species at all, since that would “impl[y] that just one continuum is replacing one chasm of difference […] as if there were a single axis of calibration” (Meet 235). Instead, recent radical comparative sciences likening human and animal speech and mind go further than simply seeing similarities first discovered around 1900, but track differences in the motley of communicating critters whose encounters are made of “rich and largely uncharted, material-semiotic, flesh-to-flesh, and face-to-face connection with a host of significant others” (ibid.). In contact zones, “[p]lay is not outside the asymmetries of power” (Meet 237); it breaks rules just as much as it needs them, metacommunicates and bends meanings by joyfully rearranging its elements in ever-changing sequences, and therefore relies on reciprocity and risks just as language does (see Meet 237pp.). Training and games with dogs, according to Haraway, are about “antinatural domination” (Meet 222), “the oxymoron of disciplined spontaneity” (Manifesto 62), and ”[t]he coming into being of something unexpected, something new and free, something outside the rules of function and calculation, something not ruled by the logic of reproduction of the same” (Meet 223)–all of which is applicable for horse-riding as well. Here, power and play particularize and couple 66 mounts and riders in a CS game “in which each is more than one but less than two” (Meet 231). An example for this ‘[r]eciprocal induction” (Meet 229) is the phenomenon of isopraxis.56 This term describes the attunement of muscle movements, heart rate and minds in the equine dyad, in which it is unclear as to who affects whom; this sort of finding and its relativization are the core of current horse-riding science. Contact zones, power and play are first of all very applicable to analyze the in-betweens of equitation in RG and SR, and also point out current concepts and Jahrhundertwende ideas of humanimal communication. 2.1.3 Equitation Science Haraway conflates her life science background with forays into the Arts and self-identifies as a “a biologist schooled in those discourses, and a practicioner of the humanities” (Meet 13; original emphasis). By challenging the difference between fact and fiction,57 she exposes how akin CS material and CS stories actually are as they make each other up via encounters in flesh and sign. Thus, the CS approach invites an incorporation of scientific scholarship in this literary investigation. I will therefore consult research in the fairly new field of ES that negotiates traditional and innovative horse-training, riding techniques and equine welfare, to conduct a practical-ethical analysis of the equitation presented in the two novellas. ES provides knowledge about the fleshy parts of the Reitpferde entangled in Hofmannsthal’s and Storm’s writings. 56 Haraway borrows the term from the French ethologist Jean-Claude Barrey (see Meet 229). 57 “Etymogically, facts refer to performance, action, deeds done–feats, in short. A fact is a past participle, a thing done, over, fixed, shown, performed, accomplished. […] Fiction, etymologically, is very close, but differs by part-of-speech and tense. Like facts, fiction refers to action, but fiction is about the act of fashioning, forming, inventing, as well as feigning or feinting. Drawn from a present participle, fiction is in process and still at stake, not finished, still prone to falling afoul of facts, but also liable to showing something we do not yet know” (Manifesto 19p.). 67 Paul McGreevy and Andrew McLean have compiled the main definitions, terms and conceptualizations of ES in Equitation Science, which is the basis of my close analysis. The authors name three reasons that motivated the founding of ES, defined as “the measurement and interpretation of interactions between horses and their riders” (ES vii). First is the fact that “despite the long history of horsemanship, it appears that we have progressed little in our training techniques” (“How Equitation Science” 7), that are often based on the long-held belief of human dominance and equine submission. Though horse-riding has evolved into a variety of disciplines, surpassing military and transportation needs, traditional methods as described by Xenophon in 350BC are still around and cause riders’ inappropriate use of equipment, inhumane handling of allegedly unruly horses and injuries for both parties. These problems caused by uninformed practices due to “the current lack of science in equitation” (ES vii) are the second motive for the advent of ES and its refined horse-centered riding techniques. The third reason is “the increasing profile of ‘Natural Horsemanship’ and ‘horse whisperers’[which] has made horse industry personnel question some of the traditional practices, prompted them to consider how novel techniques operate and to question how the language relating to horse-training and riding relates to what is known through psychology, ethology and veterinary science” (ibid.). ES is non-commercial and more accurate, for it does not rely on non-measurable concepts such as harmony or respect, but on established notions of learning theory, equine ethology, and quantifiable variables such as the pressures of reins, seat and legs. The fundamental question “What is the optimal level of contact between any given horse and its rider?” (“Advent” 498) drives the development of electrical monitoring and gauging devices that track the intensity of the kinematic activity in the contact zones between the companions during equitation (see ibid.). 68 ES suits as an application of Harawayan CS theories to specific phenomena in horse-riding, since its focus on the human-animal interface is mostly concerned with the animal’s welfare. It abstains from goal-driven horsemanship traditions and aims to be more process-oriented instead. By observing the mechanisms of riding before their outcomes (see “Advent” 495), ES contributes further to concrete analyses of the riding figures in the literary texts. Brauner’s behaviour during the village ride, Lerch’s use of physical aids and equestrian tools and the kinematic flow between the two in RG, as well as Schimmel’s reaction to the work environment and Hauke’s conflict-inducing riding techniques that cause the horse’s rearing and screaming in SR–all these moments of interspecies contact can be analyzed beyond pure textual information with the help of ES concepts. Summing up, I employ the CS approach, particularly the two ideas of figures and contact zones and their application to horse-riding through ES, to analyze the chosen Jahrhundertwende novellas with an innovative and scientifically informed view beyond the scope of previous humanist research on RG and SR. 2.2 Cultural Techniques I choose two notions from the CT theories that are fruitful for my analysis of the texts: recursive chains and body techniques. Siegert outlines and overlaps both ideas in a synopsis of the research field: “[T]he recursive chains of operation that constitute cultural techniques always already contain bodily techniques” (“Cultural Techniques” 61). RG and SR feature an array of actions such as fighting, prancing or riding, which all concatenate human and horse bodies with other nonhuman material through technical interactions that have cultural implications. Thus, these 69 two concepts can distinguish the entangled liminalities in text and context, especially the ones concerning equitation. 2.2.1 Recursive Chains CT achieve their sophisticated status through a different approach to order, direction and focus of the practices that create culture. Instead of a traditional analysis of origins, single steps or results, current German Media Studies interpret the chains of operations which precede the media they constitute in the first place (see Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 97p.). Macho provides the much-cited explanation for this critical change of perspective: Cultural techniques–such as writing, reading, painting, counting, making music–are always older than the concepts that are generated from them. People wrote long before they conceptualized writing or alphabets; millennia passed before pictures and statues gave rise to the concept of the image; and until today, people sing or make music without knowing anything about tones or musical notation systems. Counting, too, is older than the notion of numbers. To be sure, most cultures counted or performed certain mathematical operations; but they did not necessarily derive from this a concept of number. (“Zeit und Zahl” 179) Along the same lines: People rode horses (and other animals) long before there was a concept of horsemanship, or artefacts such as horseshoes or hippodromes. It is a CT involving human and equine bodies, tools, tack and movement within an environment. Since it is rule-based, it constitutes a “historically given micro-network of technologies and techniques” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 58). Similar to the differences in complexity of counting or calculating with fingers, abacus or computer (ibid.), there are different forms of riding from bareback and unshod, to geared up and well-equipped dressage, jumping, cavalry or professional equitation. 70 The culture of horsemanship is created by taming, corralling and finally riding a horse–and by all the distinctions humans make between the horse and other non-ridable animals during the process. Like any cultural achievement, it is based on the introduction of such binary differentiations (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 61). The pair wild/domesticated can then be further differentiated on either side, for example wild animals that are considered edible/inedible or domesticated animals that can be ridden/not ridden and so on. “The chains that make up these distinctions are recursive” (ibid.) and “the distinctions in question are processed by media in the broadest sense of the word” (ibid.). In the context of equitation they are basal CT such as gates, saddles, reins, or the bodily act of straddling. CT research is concerned with these apriori operations and their concatenation in the world, which are at the core of their ontological conceptualizations (see Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 117). Hence, it is not the horse, the human or horsemanship, but rather the connection of rider, mount, and artefacts as agents in riding which I will analyze in the novellas. Most of these recursive chains that create CT involve body techniques, which will be elaborated below, but are neither restricted to nor do they derive from the body per se (see Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 144). Understanding CT as action-based, connected and alternating recedes from an apprehension of the entangled media elements as extensions of the body, and develops an ethnological-inspired appreciation instead. Schüttpelz coins this as the medienanthropologische Kehre in the research. Referring to techne and not mimesis as the key of recursive chains shows how medial amplifications of human action are shaped in cycles of two-or-more mutually connected people, things and symbols–and not unilateral and linear (see Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 144pp.). Consequently, riding cannot be restricted to bodies, since there are associated things such as gear to wear and the ground to walk on; it also cannot be ascribed to a 71 human body technique that is extended to a horse body, since walking upright on two feet is not like trotting, cantering or galloping with four hooves; riding is a different way to move–for both species participating. The turn to CT as linked operations and practices between people, things, symbols and media allows us to reposition these elements and to reconsider their essence (see Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 146p.). Focussing on the observation of doings instead of the traditional determination of beings also admits nonhuman participants into the recursive chains that form Netzwerke, “die aneinander anschließen, aufeinander aufbauen und auf sich selbst zurückkommen können” (Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 147). Within these nets, agency is allotted to all agents alike and cultural nodes are knotted together in an ongoing effecting/effective cycle. Only by going through such cycles and along chains can things gain subject or object status; their independence as entities does not matter in this context (see Maye, “Was ist” 127). The internal connection and intimate relationship of such highly intricate CT as writing or riding causes the levels of production and presentation to coincide and become coextensive. Expressed in German: Herstellen und Darstellen fallen zusammen (see Maye, “Was ist” 126). Considering horse-riding, the act of producing certain movements and the act of performing them constantly merge in the concrete flesh and blood horse-human-dyad acting in a certain time and place. Within the complex networks of humans, nonhumans, technical objects and signs or other forms of knowledge, two points pertain: the priority of the chains of operations and the priority of recursive before single operations (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 91). Chains of operations are to be considered before all the chained items individually, based on the idea that any media only act as media when applied in an action that gives them function. In short: “Operationsverkettung” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 95) comes before 72 “Operationskette” (ibid.). In this context, CT research corrects a unilateral, teleological concept of externalization, and reveals it as being mutual and recursive (see “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 93p.). The example of domestication makes clear how humans not only change wild animals’ behavior, but are themselves coerced to adapt their own lost and now externalized characteristics. Simple stages of evolution do not cover how every externalization recoils to the externalizing party like a boomerang, so that there is “eine weitverzweigte Serie kontingenter Verflechtungen–zwischen Menschen, Tieren, Artefakten und Medien” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 94). Key is not only to accept the priority of chains of operations, but also to see how these same operations apply to their own results in various ways. This leads to deliberations about instrumentality, and the idea of one operation being the purpose for the next, and this operation being a means to yet another end etc. The result is a certain “Zweckentfremdung” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 95), a mutual misappropriation within the operations that is necessary and normal due to the present power negotiations. In equitation, one possible formula of expedience is: ([(human rides horse/to move faster) (to) move faster]/to hunt successfully).58 This operational chain is maintained by factors on the macro level, such as social regulations, and on the micro level, such as physical abilities. Recursive chains serve to investigate the intricate concatenation of the humans, horses and equestrian objects as they appear in RG and SR, particularly regarding the ramifications when their movements and motions in riding overlap with other purposes. 58 See Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 95. The original formula translated into English is: ([(means 1/for purpose 1) (as) means 2]/for purpose 2). 73 2.2.2 Body Techniques This concept is coined by French socio-psychologist Marcel Mauss, who defines body techniques based on an evaluation of heterogenous examples. His text is considered the charter and implicit inspiration of German CT theories (see Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 88, “Körpertechniken” 105; Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 143). Adding the body to the recursive chains linking people, things and signs is one of the newest and most consequential expansions of the CT concept. Mauss defines body techniques as “the ways in which from society to society men know how to use their bodies” (97). It is important to keep the term in the plural when talking about the variety of activities, since it is impossible to go from specific to conceptual. This emphasis on the pluralistic and practical is crucial to his interdisciplinary approach to uncharted phenomena “at the frontiers of the sciences” (97). The study of body techniques is not clearly covered by one established discipline. Horse-riding, as an interspecies practice, is typically traversing along the edges of zoology and ethology, sport studies, art, military history or social studies, depending on whether its animalistic, athletic, aesthetic or other aspects are analyzed. Tellingly, it is a multifaceted and somehow marginal activity within the sciences and humanities, which is why understanding it requires such a comprehensive concept as body techniques. Mauss elucidates the ‘miscellaneous’ character of body techniques by elaborating on their combined social, biological, and psychological aspects. Starting with not coincidentally military anecdotes about physical skills such as marching or digging, he suggests that these activities “are specific to determine societies” (98). To become social phenomena body techniques are, first, bound into certain timeframes and spaces, and second, “assembled by and for social authority” (120), which means people know when and where to do what and how. 74 Certain physical practices are therefore shaped by “the social nature of the habitus” (101; original emphasis) and not solely by habits of single participants: moving in a distinct manner is a “work of collective and individual practical reason” (ibid.). Mauss continues with the basic assumption, that body techniques are modes of action that stem from the human physique: The body is man’s first and most natural instrument. Or more accurately, not to speak of instruments, man’s first and most natural technical object, and at the same time technical means, is his body. Immediately this whole broad category of what I classified […] as ‘miscellaneous‘ disappeared from that rubric and took shape and body. […] Before instrumental techniques there is the ensemble of techniques of the body. (104) Mauss does not explain whether instrumental means imply artefacts, animals or other humans, but indicates that a technique does not necessarily need an instrument. He refers to the Platonic idea of techne and extends it for his purposes (ibid.). According to Schüttpelz, Mauss‘ reading of the Greek philosopher broadens his definition of techniques: they are “durch Anweisungen, Nachahmung und Training lernbare und lehrbare nützliche Praktiken jeder Art, bei denen man weiß, was man tut, und tut, was man weiß, ohne sie außerhalb ihrer Nützlichkeit begründen zu müssen oder zu können, seien sie materielle, verbale, mediale oder rituelle Techniken“ (“Medienanthropologische Kehre” 90). Some scholars argue, that CT do require artefacts or symbols, and that walking, swimming or gestures are therefore not CT but only body techniques. However, focussing on recursion, repetition, and reflexivity instead of tools, individual steps or results, it is the complex successive coordination of actions which creates “eine Form der Expertise oder einer praktischen Geschicklichkeit, die durch Vorschriften, Übungen und Vorbilder trainiert wird und nur anhand der jeweiligen Operationsketten oder Operationszyklen definiert und überprüft werden kann” (Schüttpelz, “Körpertechniken“ 111). 75 The psychological aspect of body techniques is that they are “effective and traditional” (Mauss 104; original emphasis) actions, meaning they are transmitted via education, training, media, cultural communication–or vice versa (see Maye, “Was ist” 143p.). The difficulty to decide on the direction of the effect is illustrated by Mauss’ anecdote about French girls walking like girls in American movies, which CT research often quotes in an attempt to clarify the role of media such as film for the mediated aspect of body techniques (see Maye, “Was ist” 123; Schüttpelz, “Körpertechniken” 105; Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 383). Key is to see the elements not as separate but connected: the recursive chains that constitute CT “always already contain bodily techniques” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 61), and are therefore never merely psychological or technical-medial activities. Rather, bodies merge with media and technologies in action–e.g. human feet and hands with stirrups and reins with the horses’ side and mouth during riding, the rules and regulations of this being passed on as words or images in manuals. Mauss continues speaking of body techniques as “physio-psycho-sociological assemblages of series of action” (120), stressing their nodes and networking aspects. German theorists also understand body techniques as “Abrichtungen des gelehrigen Körpers” (Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 98), and practices of disciplined Körperbeherrschung instead of pure Geistestechniken (see Siegert/Nanz 9). Only such a focus on the body’s passing through ritual, habitual and practical cycles finds new facts about old phenomena. It can be seen as part of a general somatization and psychosomatization happening in the arts and sciences since the 19th century: close observation and detailed evaluation of movement sequences are the main interests of among others, chronophotography, sport studies and training methods (see Schüttpelz, “Körpertechniken” 116ff .)–all of which are relevant in the discourse of horse-riding (see 1.2.2). The social, biological and psychological level operate in concatenated practices in which 76 physical inadequacy is corrected by dominant education, so that some motions more than others are media-mediated,59 acquired and not natural (see Mauss, 102; Maye, “Kulturtechnik” 144). The result are fashion trends transmitted by handbooks and expert instructions. The three aspects of body techniques are always already interlinked within their expertise (see Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 383). Such a concurrence of ‘what’ to do and ‘how’ to do it is of particular interest for the practice of equitation, proving that there is no ‘natural’ style. Socially and symbolically transmitted bodily practices are arbitrary, their inventions do not increase,60 and they are not part of an accumulating history (see Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 101). It is just their medializations and modes which change temporarily and locally. Mauss classifies body techniques according to biographical rhythms and rituals of the everyday human life, from resting activities such as sitting or sleeping to movements such as walking, dancing or climbing (see 106pp.). Equitation–or any other interspecies activity–is not included. However, Mauss’ reminder that movements involving the body have a distinct habitus and historical origin is applicable to the different styles and practices of riding, such as cavalry (as in RG), basic European dressage (as in SR), or jumping, racing, Western rodeo, etc. Body techniques are an applicable concept to analyse the mutable physical, historical and traditional aspects of horse-riding as presented in RG and SR, especially with a focus on the social setting of the moving human and animal bodies according to mediated instructions. 59 My translation of the German word medienvermittelt. 60 Schüttpelz relativizes that singular body techniques are actually enhanced over time, develop into virtuosic, systematic skills and become a premise for professionals (see “Körpertechniken” 115). Most body techniques, however, do not accumulate. 77 2.2.3 Horsemanship Manuals CT theories are interested in cultural instead of genetic tradition of practices. Therefore, they focus on educational media that cover “Lernen und Lehren, also […] Symbolverarbeitung und unbegriffene und begriffene Praxis” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 90) as well as “Anweisung, Nachahmung und Training” (ibid.), manifesting a discourse of “’Wissen-dass’ und ‘Wissen-wie’” (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 89). They are also frequently found in “arcane sources”61 (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 51). Such aspects offer an opportunity to make manuals a signified part of the literary analysis. There are handbook covering horsemanship from breeding to husbandry but I use the ones with a strong emphasis on equitation, to undertake a material analysis of specific horse-riding passages in the selected novellas. Handbücher are knowledge systems that promise insights into the handwerkliche aspects of riding as portrayed in RG and SR. Comprehensive surveys of (mostly Western European and North American62) horsemanship such as Geschichte des Reitens: Von der Antike bis zur Neuzeit by Michaela Otte and Die Reitkunst im Spiegel ihrer Meister by Bertold Schirg provide basic overviews of the topic, its terminology and history, especially for the German context of the Jahrhundertwende. During this era equitation experiences a shift from the military as the main source of riding education in the 19th century to a more athletic and leisure-oriented instruction for civilians in the 20th century. However, the authors of books about riding during this transition are often former cavalry captains who develop the so-called “Campagne- und Schulreiterei” (Otte 199) in line with the general equestrian needs of the time. 61 Siegert elaborates: “[…] arcane, that is, from the point of view of the traditional humanities” (ibid.). 62 Euro- and West-centrism prevail in the study of horsemanship, where standard works marginalize South-American, African and Asian horse-riding styles and their history. 78 I use two manuals for a literary analysis of RG and SR. They are contemporary texts but cover the different types of riding featured in the novellas: Lerch-Brauner ride on a scouting mission during war and fight horseback, Hauke/Schimmel work astraddle and ride as part of servicing a dike under construction. Otto Digeon von Monteton’s Über die Reitkunst (1877/79) is an extensive and strict guide for cavalrists in the German Reich, and offers insights to the Wachtmeister and his warhorse’s experience in Hofmannsthal’s story. Monteton’s contribution to horsemanship, which is concerned with kinematics and collecting teachable knowledge, is counted among the “Gipfel der Reitkunst” (Schirg 1: 14p.). The first volume “Anglomanie und Reitkunst” (1877) dismisses the English trend of intensely training riders instead of horses, since Monteton thinks the animal’s stamina and strength are more important than manpower (see Reitkunst 80pp.). The second volume “Reiter-Predigten: Ursache und Wirkung” (1879) covers directives about “Tourenreiten, […] und Distanzritte von Truppenkörpern” (Reitkunst 23pp.) and “Bewegungslehre” (Reitkunst 276pp.), which is helpful when looking at the events in RG. James Fillis’ Grundsätze der Dressur und Reitkunst (1894)–translated from the French original of 1890–is a systematic guidebook for more general equine taming, training and dressage and thus helps us to understand the challenges the Deichgraf and his workhorse face in Storm’s narrative. Fillis advises particularly on cross-country “Geländereiten” (Otte 95) and the “geschmeidigen Balancesitz des Reiters” (Otte 96) as a key to proper equitation, which is useful to understand the incidents in SR. Both works are influential in the European horsemanship discourse of the time and illustrate the network of dispute and accordance between English, French and German masters, in which Monteton offers “Lösungsvorschläge genialer Schlichtheit 79 und Brauchbarkeit” (Schirg 2: 1p.) and Fillis obtains high recogniction.63 The contemporary horsemanship manuals specify certain CT concepts and match common moments in riding. They are particularly valuable for investigations of the practical, physical operations featured in the novellas. In RG, there is Lerch’s care for his cavalry partner, Brauner’s reaction to his rider’s signals and their shared encounter with the surface. In SR, there are Hauke’s and Schimmel’s rhythmical communication and their mutual connection through timed and scaled punishment and caressing. These elements of equitation illustrate the liminal zones between horse and rider’s bodies, which can be dissected in detail with the help of the handbooks’ know-how. To sum up, I use CT theories, especially the ideas of recursive chains, body techniques and their utilization in contemporary equestrian handbooks, to investigate the selected texts of the era from a novel, posthuman and posthermeneutic perspective in addition to the earlier scholarship about RG and SR. 2.3 Entangling CS and CT Combining the two approaches for the analysis of RG and SR contributes to knowledge production within the new field of CLAS. A combination of the two is particularly needed to cope with the complexities of horse-riding in the chosen texts. Neither theory alone fully covers the elaborate entanglements of the human-horse relationship and riding. Neither of the two theories is an established form of literary criticism either. Nevertheless, amalgamating their methodological ideas and applying them to investigate the humans, horses, artefacts and 63 Nevertheless, both authors are criticized by modern experts: Monteton’s writing is cleared of anti-semitic content in the reprint (see Schirg 2: 1p.), and Fillis’ “Vorstellung über das Gleichgewicht des Pferdes stimmt mit der heutigen Reitlehre nicht mehr überein” (Otte 95p.). 80 surroundings involved in riding in the chosen texts makes this cultural-literary analysis all the more comprehensive, innovative and intricate. CS concepts–within the bigger framework of critical Anglo-American posthumanism–and CT concepts–within the framework of German Media Studies–have so far neither been connected by other scholars nor have they reached out to the respective other themselves. However, the involved researchers seem to have been mutually approaching similar ideas from both sides of the Atlantic via common French sources such as Derrida’s animal philosophy and Latour’s Actor-Network-Theory. Whereas CT scholars explicitly name the Critical Animal Studies as fellow posthumanists (see Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 53) and Haraway in the context of hominization (see Winthrop-Young, “Remarks” 12), the founder of CS herself never refers to the German concept in her work. Although CS and CT do not directly influence each other, their analogies considering some of the main theoretical themes and structures are just as “deceptively similar” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 378) as they are easily demonstrable64–but they are not homologies. As a result, the two theories complement each other and constitute a kindred but by no means identical approach to horse-riding in literature. They share similarities regarding human-animal relations, critical methodological moments, but also show differences when it comes to their origins and their objects of research. A basic resemblance between CS and CT is that their research is relatively unbound from traditional institutions and determined by its content and methods. By seismographically following anthropological shifts they feature a readiness to overcome fossilized disciplinary 64 Winthrop-Young locates the common ideas of German Kulturtechniktheorie and Anglo-American posthumanism in the deconstructiion of occidental humanism and a growing attention towards the all-along-existing intermixing of human and nonhuman, which is in the focus of Haraway’s critical animal studies. He shows how these encompassing developments are implications of several conceptual expansions of Kultur and culture, media and technique/technology, and finally reach into the anthropological domains of current research. 81 borders. Consequently, they most evidently share ideas of posthumanism as an ideology, in the sense of crossing species boundaries or technological divides, and thinking ‘post’ as a conceptual ‘beyond the human’ instead of a chronological ‘after the human’. Such theories annul the supposedly exceptional Western homo sapiens’ purity or supremacy, and adopt the notion of an always already hybridized, hominized–meaning human identity as generated by cultural techniques65–human. Both CS and CT are therefore all about the curious question: “How was the human always already historically mixed with the non-human?” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 53). A cautious response is: “We are not one, and being depends on getting on together. The obligation is to ask who are present and who are emergent” (Haraway, Manifesto 50). There appears to be an overall agreement on nonhuman agency, be it animal, artefact or material. Building on this posthumanist premise, Siegert perceives the new understanding of media as posthermeneutic mediality to be the pointer that shows in hindsight how research on both continents has worked parallel to some extent (see “Cultural Techniques” 53). On the other hand, he demonstrates the distinct procedures of both, with CS preferring philosophical idealizations and CT processing empirical historical objects (see “Cultural Techniques” 57). They also have a profoundly different parentage. CS is based on cybernetic’s thinking about increasing hybridization of bodies and organisms, and thus takes a detour from anthropocentrism via transhumanism to posthumanism. Meanwhile, CT is grounded in continental philosophy and German Media Studies’ revolt against hermeneutical traditions (see Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 53). This leads to a major distinction of what the nonhuman means for each movement: in case of Anglo-American research, the focus is on animals and bodies, while 65 “Es gibt nicht den Menschen unabhängig von Kulturtechniken der Hominisierung” (Siegert, “Kulturtechnik“ 99 and 117; original emphasis). Or: “Humans as such do not exist independently of cultural techniques of hominization” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 57). 82 German technophiliac research finds machines central. The result is a more ethical focus for the former and a more technological concern for the latter when dealing with the anthropological difference (see Siegert “Cultural Techniques” 55).66 It is, on the one hand, this “radical technicity” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 57) of the distinction between human and nonhuman–and the decentering of this distinction–that avoids “the danger of confusing ethics with sentimentality” (ibid.). This deliberately sets CT apart from Anglo-American posthumanism’s occasional anthropomorphism which attributes certain characteristics to animals and declares them the ‘better humans’. On the other hand, there is the danger of “humanist technophiliac narcissism” (Manifesto 33) which Haraway admonishes by criticizing “our culture’s infantilization of [animals] and the refusal to honor difference” (Manifesto 39). By positioning her theory in between those extremes, she admits a specific anthropomorphism that is indeed a “philosophically suspect language [and] necessary to keep the humans alert to the fact that somebody is at home in the animals” (Manifesto 50). But she also dismisses literalist anthropomorphism “that sees furry humans in animal bodies and measures their worth in scales of similarity to the rights-bearing, humanist subjects of Western philosophy and political theory”67 (Manifesto 51). Still, Haraway’s focus on values and loving training language has initially been criticized for being overly anthropomorphic and therefore risking overidentification of humans with animals, which can result in narcissistic projection, essentializing notions and ultimately erases otherness. By now, the inevitable anthropocentrism is regarded “not only as a problem but also as a potentially productive critical tool” (Weil 15), as well as as an empathetic first step to ethical 66 However, Geoghegan finds that recent research “has deconstructed these oppositions” (66). 67 Haraway critically reviews Vicki Hearne’s work on training, and appreciates the “fruitful contradiction” (50) of the different types of anthropomorphism. 83 relating. Reassessed in the concept of “critical anthropomorphism” (Weil 16) it acknowledges that “the irreducible difference that animals may represent for us is one that is also within […] the term human” (ibid.; original emphasis). So, compared to CT’s more observant analysis of practices between people, things and signs, Haraway’s approach to interspecies practices of love, trust and respect also considers the question: “How to live ethically in these mortal, finite flows that are about heterogeneous relationships–and not about ‘man’” (Manifesto 24). This way, the two theoretical clusters–CT being rather detached from flesh and blood beasts and CS being deeply involved with muddy critters–seem to level each other out considering the epistemological and ethical aspects of CLAS. Entangled, they make for an overall even methodological pairing in my analysis of horse-riding. Aside from the aforementioned theoretical overlaps, there are other intersecting themes and structures in CS and CT works. The following new notions are filtered from the two fields of research and will be defined in detail further down (2.3.1–2.3.4): the emergence of a sui generis third, the experience of world-making, the negotiation processes of natureculturalization, and, funneling all these ideas into concrete material surroundings: earthiness. For both approaches, matter is fact and being down-to-earth is taken literal. Each concept illustrates certain aspects of humans riding horses and indicates how the practice appears in the stories. Entangled, these concepts enable an intricate cultural-literary analysis of equitation in RG (3.) and SR (4.). 2.3.1 Emerging Third The first overlap is the notion of a ‘third’ emerging from a practice that entangles two different agents. This third is a new product which is unlike its producers, and yet it makes their distinction possible in the first place. It is simultaneously the parent of the involved pair and an 84 overriding third deriving from their connection. Haraway describes the concurrence of humans with other species as follows: There cannot be just one companion species; there have to be at least two to make one. It is in the syntax; it is in the flesh. [It is] about the inescapable, contradictory story of relationships–co-constitutive relationships in which none of the partners pre-exist the relating, and the relating is never done once and for all. (Manifesto 12) Humans meeting nonhumans never fuse completely,68 and the meeting never ends but perpetually continues. In fact, the everyday, earthy grind reinforces this focus on ‘going on together’, or ‘going for a ride’. A mundane activity that precedes the detailed form in which its agents come together also allows for counter-intuitive and incongruent moments. Operating on all levels of reality and research, Haraway discloses that “[p]arts don’t add up to wholes in this manifesto–or in life in naturecultures” (Manifesto 25). CT theories describe similar structures when dealing with operations that connect humans and nonhumans and produce unique cultural techniques in the course of their ongoing encounters. German media scholars refer to Michel Serres’ concept of the parasite, which shifts the conventional order and repositions the interacting agents from chronological to relational: “The structures, as well as that which they connect, do not precede a ‘parasitical’ third party. Rather, the latter is always already around and thus an indispensable, co-constitutive part of the former” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 386). CT therefore become thirds that precede the second involved party and mediate its distinction from the first (see Siegert, “Kulturtechnik” 101pp.). As such productive in-betweens, CT also interlace the instrumentalities of multimaterial operations and intensify their recursive character (see Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 95p.). 68 Haraway refers to Marilyn Strathern’s concept of ‘partial connections’ here (see Manifesto 25). 85 Domestication is a shared humanimal example of an emerging third. Ecofeminist Haraway endorses notions of “co-evolution” (Manifesto 27) and “co-constitution” (ibid.) as the rule and not the exception for all relating lives. For her, conventional thinking of domestication “as the paradigmatic act of masculine, single-parent, self-birthing, whereby man makes himself repetitively as he invents (creates) his tools” (Manifesto 27), is to be reworked. She prefers “remodeled versions that give [species] the first moves in domestication and then choreograph an unending dance of distributed and heterogeneous agencies” (Manifesto 28). Domestication, thus positively thought as a chain-like, recursive process of “cross-species specialization” (Manifesto 29) is randomly determined by flexibility and opportunism. The involved kinds “shape each other throughout the still ongoing story of co-evolution” (ibid.), a strategy that “benefit[s] humans and their associated species alike” (Manifesto 30). Summing up that “earth’s beings are prehensile [and] ready to yoke unlikely partners into something new, something symbiogenetic” (Manifesto 32), relates to worldly aspects and supports Haraway’s analysis of the human-herding dog-sheep network (see Manifesto 66pp.). CT’s conceptualization of domestication can be glimpsed in Siegert’s literally “most accessible example” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 385):69 doors, or rather gates. These “operative thresholds” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 386) separate and connect humans from nonhumans in the form of fences which belong to neither side, but are their own order. They are not only an in-between, but a transcending third which facilitates the quasi “ur-cultural technique” (Winthrop-Young, “Kultur” 387) of species differentiation via the inside/outside distinction. “The door appears much more as a medium of co-evolutionary domestication of animals and human 69 Winthrop-Young explains Siegert’s idea of “How Humans Emerged from Doors” (385pp.): Literally all species get access to certain worlds with the invention and installation of gates which separate (and connect) domesticated animals and humans in co-constitutive relationships. 86 beings” (Siegert, “Doors” 8; original emphasis). Since doors and gates conceptually belong to neither side, they permit and even promote mutuality instead of hierarchy. Hence, domestication is not a one-sided process, but “eine weitverzweigte Serie kontingenter Verflechtungen–zwischen Menschen, Tieren, Artefakten und Medien“ (Schüttpelz, “Medienanthropologische Kehre” 94). The reciprocity and recursiveness of humanimal relationships is based on the CT idea that being human is never free from entanglements with the nonhuman: “Humans as such do not exist independently of cultural techniques of hominization” (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 57). Finally, both approaches resemble each other in how they illustrate their ways of thinking by using linguistic logic and grammatical rationale: verbs vs. nouns. Haraway explains the linkage between CS as follows: Reality is an active verb, and the nouns all seem to be gerunds with more appendages than an octopus. Through their reaching into each other, through their ‘prehensions’ or graspings, beings constitute each other and themselves. Beings do not preexist their relatings. ‘Prehensions’ have consequences. The world is a knot in motion. (Meet 6) Just as she notices how "histories of body and mind [...] rework into the fleshly verbs“ (Manifesto 100) in a playful game of "ontological choreography“ (ibid.), Schüttpelz notes the following about the chains of (non)animal agents: "Der deutschsprachige Begriff der Kulturtechniken […] verspricht […] vor die Reifizierung von Apparaten und Substantive zurückzugreifen, um einen Zugriff auf die Verben und Operationen zu ermöglichen, aus denen die Substantive und Apparate erst hervorgegangen sind” (“Medienanthropologische Kehre” 87). Cornelia Vismann defines CT as practices that describe what media do, produce, and which actions they prompt. She states that “agency would find its expression in objects claiming the 87 grammatical subject position and cultural techniques standing in for verbs. Grammatical persons (and human beings alike) would then assume the place assigned for objects” (“Sovereignty” 83). This reversal seen from a media perspective is the essential feature of CT, since in them “the doer is deduced from the instrumentalities of the action and the agent is derived from the medium itself” (“Sovereignty” 85). A Greek verbal construction called ‘medium voice’ puts things and media in relation while respecting their mutual independence. “Unlike active and passive constructions, that particular verb form signals that the acting subject is, grammatically speaking, dependent upon a third element” (“Sovereignty” 84). Hence, operations can be executed by nonhuman subjects. In fact, “[c]ertain actions cannot be attributed to a person; and yet, they are somehow still performed” (ibid.)–a situation which the medium voice can express. Thinking of CS and CT as bearing an emerging third stresses their relational and productive qualities, whether they occur during human-animal encounters, material entanglements or grammatical structures. This concept is therefore very applicable to the unique bodily Reiterperspektive and the various verbal-semantic implications of reiten in RG; it also helps to analyze the one of a kind texture of the coastal area and the dike construction, and especially the Schimmelreiter’s flying movements in SR. 2.3.2 World-Making The idea of an emerging third intertwines with another aspect that CS and CT theories share: a sensitivity for the moments when practices produce worlds. Both approaches track and unravel these generative, semiotic knots that manufacture culture, mold nature, mix natureculture and materialize in humanimal relationships. 88 Haraway suggests “thinking about animals as other worlds” (Manifesto 34), and seeing their evolving relationships with us humans as “other concatenated, emergent worlds” (Manifesto 61). The entangled CS are “seeking to inhabit an inter-subjective world that is about meeting the other in all the fleshly detail of a mortal relationship” (Manifesto 34), which entails everyday interaction between literally all kinds of bodies that come together and overlap in “mundane practices” (Manifesto 11). Individuals involved in companionship become worldlier themselves just as they create more livable worlds, e.g. in the socio-technological “dogland” (Manifesto 96) where humans and canines inhabit their shared histories. Kulturtechniktheorie also mentions the world-making forces of CT. They are evident in the mediated differentiations during the process of generating cultures which introduce distinctions such as human/animal, inside/outside, eat/not eat etc. Applying the inside/outside discrimination to the animal side creates a wildlife/pet distinction and applying the eat/not eat discrimination creates a livestock/pet distinction, and thus can the infinite, recursive chain of CT be continued. Siegert explains how these differentiations operate: “Ihre weltstiftende Kraft ist der Grund dafür, dass wir die Kultur, in der wir leben, als Wirklichkeit erleben und oft genug als die natürliche Ordnung der Dinge” (“Kulturtechnik” 100). The dash in-between the categories functions as follows: “Nun werden diese Unterscheidungen jedoch über Medien im weitesten Sinne prozessiert […] die aus diesem Grund weder der einen noch der anderen Seite der Unterscheidung zugeschlagen werden können, sondern stets die Position eines Dritten einnehmen“ (ibid.). CT as in-between thirds not only establish worlds, but enculturate realities and institutionalize symbolic systems within the contingent framework of nature and culture. Everyday-life practices such as reading, writing, eating, walking, driving, riding and so on produce new worlds within the world. There is a “Betonung des ‘Praxis-Aspekts’ und seiner 89 Medialisierung” (ibid.), especially with the arbitrary, non-accumulative and alltäglichen aspects of Mauss’ body techniques, which makes CT seem ever-present in the human world (ibid.). Interestingly, the words ‘worldly’ and weltlich, deriving from the old meaning for ‘mankind’ or ‘lifetime’, seem to imply earthy, mundane and profane aspects of the world, but thus also invoke the non-secular, spiritual and sacred in contrast. Taking the world-making potential of CS and CT into account emphasizes the perceptional aspects of the humans, animals and artefacts involved with each other within their surroundings. That is why this new concept is very appropriate to analyze Lerch and Brauner’s intersubjective world in RG, where horse and rider intensely experience their position in the village as well as in the larger context of war from the perspective of riding and its concrete reality. 2.3.3 Natureculturalization The world-making facets of CS and CT practices prompt to consider an even larger framework in which their agents entangle: those of nature and culture, as well as their scholarly conceptualizations as Nature and Culture. The Harawayan notion of a coalesced natureculture is enriched with a focus on ongoing operations found in Kulturtechniktheorien. Both CS and CT research stress the importance of a “motley crowd” (Haraway, Meet 8) of influences from other fields and invasions into each other’s academic habitat (see Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 51). An interdisciplinary outreach enables them to supersede the traditional demarcation of Nature and Culture as closed entities, which is put into intellectual practice by the faculties of Sciences and Humanities. The new approaches dispute such outdated ideas, and question the enclosure of naturally rooted nonhuman animals and culturally 90 productive humans into their alleged realms. Instead, they develop differentiated conceptualizations of naturalcultural worlds formerly known as Nature and Culture. Haraway’s introduction of the concepts and their relation takes place in “A Cyborg Manifesto.” Here, the two terms are still capitalized,70 connected/separated by a slash, and appear in a table that describes “transitions from the comfortable old hierarchical dominations to the scary new networks” (“Cyborg” 161): Nature/Culture stand(s) opposite “fields of difference” (“Cyborg” 162). The established dichotomy fuses and frazzles, and the exclusive binary pair is broken up to include phenomena inhabiting its borders. The traditional split between the entities not only results in social control, cultural repression of nature or “domination based on differences seen as natural” (“Cyborg” 8), but creates a “rupture between subject and object” (ibid.) and between “the [relating] forms of knowledge” (ibid.). Haraway identifies a cyborg figure that overcomes the male culture’s rule over nature and women, which tend to be associated in the traditional gender identity paradigm. She reworks the “two putatively irreconcilable realms” (ibid.) in a way that “the one can no longer be the resource for appropriation or incorporation by the other [and] [t]he relationships for forming wholes from parts, including those of polarity and hierarchical domination, are at issue” (“Cyborg” 151). Abolishing clear lines of separation and supremacy between nature and culture breaks down further boundaries, such as human/animal, organism/machine or physical/nonphysical (“Cyborg” 151pp.), which undermines the certainty of what counts as nature. Furthermore, arguing along socialist lines of self-creating, she finds labour to be the split-dissolving link: “What we experience and theorize as nature and as culture are transformed by our work. […] Therefore, 70 Both meanings of the word ‘capitalized’ are at play here and criticized in Haraway’s feminist-socialist theory of body politics: being written with capital first letters and being assigned a social, scientific or financial value which is then exploited due to the overlap of production and reproduction in a capitalist paradigm. 91 culture does not dominate nature, nor is nature an enemy” (“Cyborg” 19). For the biological sciences it is the study of animals that can reveal these oppressive traditional theories, and Haraway first focuses on primates. In her second programmatic text The Companion Species Manifesto: Dogs, People and Significant Otherness, she deals with the canine-human entanglements in shared (hi)stories, life, work and training, and comes up with CS as a new category of its own; it is a flesh-blood-and-fur continuation of the smooth cybernetic organisms of the 1990s. In a next step, thoughts about co-evolution, co-habitation, co-constitution and cross-species embodiment engage with symbiogeneses in a larger frame, namely in the fusion of nature and culture to natureculture–now a compound linking two worlds in one word. Naturecultures emerge when the two supposed realms merge, which happens in the plural, happens in pluralism and has in fact always happened. Moreover, naturecultures come in layers, since “complexity is the name of [the] game” (Manifesto 2). CS erases the slash of technohumanist times, since the posthumanist turn teaches “why conceiving of ‘nature’ and ‘culture’ as either polar opposites or universal categories is foolish” (Manifesto 8): there are no fixed wholes or parts, just infinite, partial relatings free of categories. Scientific thinking must follow these heterogeneous, mundane encounters as best as it can. The naturecultures concept overcomes “biological reductionism or cultural uniqueness” (Manifesto 31) in Western discourse, and lets its own “symbiogenetic tissues [of] story and fact” (Manifesto 17) flourish. Whereas the CS approach aims at conceptually assembling the always-already-merged phenomena of nature and culture in naturecultures, the CT approach appears to disassemble the very prerequisites that make their differentiation possible in the first place. The German researchers not only think through species “from non-distinction to distinction and back” 92 (Siegert, “Cultural Techniques” 62), but also through the bigger spheres nature and culture. As the term implies, CT theory is mostly concerned with the concept of culture, its relation to nature, its difference-engendering powers, and its emergence from CT. This conceptualization takes several steps, as Siegert explains: “Every culture begins with the introduction of distinctions” (“Cultural Techniques” 61) such as human/animal or inside/outside, which then form recursive chains amongst each other, for example inside animals (pets) and outside animals (livestock). “The constitutive force of these distinctions and recursions is the reason why the contingent culture […] is frequently taken to be the real, ‘natural’ order of things” (ibid.), meaning the idea that some animals are meant to be human family members, and others are meant to be eaten. These naturalizing cultural distinctions “are processed by media in the broadest sense of the word […] These media are basal cultural techniques” (ibid.), and their study observes how they operate in mundane practices. According to Siegert the final and most important step is: Yet we always have to bear in mind that the distinction between nature and culture itself is based on a contingent, culturally processed distinction. Cultural Techniques precede the distinction of nature and culture. They initiate acculturation, yet their transgressive use may just as well lead to deculturalization; inevitably they partake in determining whether something belongs to the cultural domain or not. (“Cultural Techniques” 62) As shown, CS focuses on the merger and productive mutuality, while CT stresses the mediality and practical mechanisms of nature and culture as realities and terms. Therefore, I add the verbal suffix ‘–ization’, which denotes the process or result of a noun, to Haraway’s compound natureculture. The way CS and CT theories permit naturecultures to propel their ongoing distinctions, highlights moments of contexture, productive discrimination and recursive 93 branching between humans, animals, their worlds and their complex relatings. Hence, this concept is particularly prolific to interpret the dike project in SR, in which human hands and earthy material entangle via Deicharbeit, and the Schimmelreiter figure, in which species borders are overridden via equitation. 2.3.4 Earthiness Working out common structures from CS and CT scholarship begins with thirds emerging from two entangled agents, e.g. reiten as an activity neither horse nor human practice by themselves. It continues with the implied creation of interspecies worlds such as the Reiterperspektive. Next, it enlarges the perspective to the networks of perpetual, reciprocal processes of domination and determination in naturecultures, as seen in Reiter figures and landscapes. A fourth and last substantial similarity of CS and CT that seems to traverse all the aforementioned structures and manifest them in concrete materiality, is an orientation towards the earthiness in relationship chains as they appear in riding. While both theories refer to earth, soil, the environment, ecological systems and the planet, they do so on different levels of literality. Avowed ecofeminist Haraway explicitly speaks of “retying some of the knots of ordinary multispecies living on earth” (Meet 3), “entangled, coshaping species of earth” (Meet 5) and the meaning-making figures that are “mundanely here, on this earth” (ibid.) in the first paragraphs of her pivotal book. One has to have a more thorough look at CT research to locate the underlying earthiness in the concepts. CT scholar Geoghegan attends to the abovementioned realization of “the interwoven potential of nature and culture alike” (72) by analyzing the central term’s details. He points out how the three different meanings of the German Kulturtechnik, namely “agricultural engineering, 94 elementary pedagogy, and media theoretical analysis” (77) somehow all seem to trace back to its first use during the 19th century, namely the management of soil. Therewith, the CT term is rooted in the etymology of the two components: the Latin colere, meaning to till or to inhabit, to farm or to foster, and the Greek technē, meaning a skill or a craft, mostly of the domestic sphere, e.g. farming or husbandry. Even though both notions are originally concerned with humans practically working with earth, land and soil, they later develop opposing intellectual associations for culture and technology respectively. According to Geoghegan, this results in a substantial schism in modern mindsets which “continues to trouble present-day Germanophone and Anglophone thought” (73). Linking the terms culture and technique conceptually continues old debates of early 20th century philosophy, but attuning to the agricultural connotations of CT allows a new and more productive perspective (see Geoghegan 75). Kulturtechnik therefore simultaneously reconciles and consolidates colere and techne and creates a connection “like a drawbridge mounted on buoyant piles” (ibid.): dynamic and moving. This way, mechanical or medial CT of various kinds form, but all of them are resources of “bringing forth and grooming a natural potential” (Geoghegan 72) or of “getting closer to nature and mediating the achievement of a more harmonious even organic state” (Geoghegan 75).71 The first meaning of CT as agricultural engineering already undergoes a conceptual and political change towards earthy grounds. From “realizing the power and potentials of nature” (Geoghegan 72) for the German fatherland’s national prosperity when originally coined and academically institutionalized at the end of the 19th century, it recently turns towards 71 Geoghegan refers to Alexander von Humboldt’s perception of scientific technologies as part of the 19 th century’s ‘mechanical romanticism’ movement. 95 environmental studies’ interest in Umwelt and Umweltschutz.72 The second use of the term CT in a pedagogical sense as media competence, implies learning, iterating, sharing, routinizing, and similar questions of cultural identity as included in the first use of CT. According to Geoghegan, conducting agricultural tools entails a holistic matrix of techniques and practices that establish a logic within the soil and an order among the humans and machines tilling the soil. [These] procedures indexed to the seasons introduce a semiotic system that helps found a new order amongst things, practices, and signs. The results are cultural distinctions, both as an infinity of distinctions in the land and distinction among lands. (77) Media archeology, the author argues, experiences a comparable turn to bios and terra. Current research employing the third meaning of CT similarly (re)turns to acknowledging earthy rhythms through CT of chronometry and notions of organizing space and time (see Macho “Zeit und Zahl”) or bodily life (see Schüttpelz “Körpertechniken”), and accredits the essence and significance of soil via CT of mapping (see Siegert “Kulturtechnik”) or law-making (see Vismann, “Sovereignty” 84). Rapidly developing applications of the CT concept reach out to “biopolitics, ecology, and animal studies as media theoretical problems that can and should be approached by a focus on the cultural-technical systems that produce specific forms of life, environment, and species relations” (Geoghegan 78). Regarding the significance of earthy aspects in both the CS and the CT approach affirms their concern for human-animal relationships and their multi-material, mundane practices involving a larger ecological framework of soil, ground and land. Thus, this 72 Charles August Vogler publishes his Grundlehren der Kulturtechnik in 1898 and the Royal Prussian Agricultural Academy established their program for Kulturtechnik at the University of Bonn in 1871. Both events reflect the time’s rationalist and power-political ethos applied to nature. The same department is now committed to environmentally sensitive topics as part of a wider reorientation of contemporary sciences and politics “toward an interpenetration of nature, technique, and human culture” (Geoghegan 76). 96 concept is especially productive for an interpretation of hoof prints and hoof steps, the crucial role of Bodenhaftung, and grounding to the surface for Brauner and Lerch in RG; it also fits investigations of the relations between livestock, husbandry and the terrestrial and rhythmic aspects of Hauke and Schimmel’s living at the coast and riding along the Deichlinie in SR. 97 3. Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s Reitergeschichte (1899) 3.1 Analyzing – Riding, Riding, Riding 3.1.1 Companion Species 22.214.171.124 Figures: Lerch/Brauner Haraway’s concept of figures is a fertile theoretical tool to trace and unravel the entanglements she calls contact zones. Reitergeschichte73 contains a multitude of such figures and figurations, and a mélange of so-called contact zones. There are three aspects of figures in the text to be investigated further: the title’s implications and the numberwords, the Doppelgänger episode, and the protagonists’ riding. Haraway introduces figures in the plural and as pluralistic. The concept is all about the idea that a figure is never just ‘one’ or a ‘whole’, but contains multiplicity and variety even if this is not perceived. Beginning with the title of the novella, Reitergeschichte plays with this notion, since Reiter is both a grammatical masculine singular (der Reiter) and plural (die Reiter).74 While it is not clear whether the story is only about one rider or a group of riders, the differences between individuality and generality are resolved and rendered productive in the form of the text. The lack of a definite or indefinite article leaves the title also conceptually underdetermined: it is neither Eine Reitergeschichte (one of many specimens) nor Die Reitergeschichte (one of a kind), and there is no subtitle to reveal more. Structurally, this uncertain heading does not lead into the story linearly, but rather seems like a loose thread sticking out of the knots of a theme (Reiter-) and a genre (-geschichte). 73 All the following quotes are from Ritter’s critical edition of Reitergeschichte (37-48) and will use the scribal RG. 74 Wilpert points out that the nomen agentis is neither clearly naming Lerch nor the whole squadron (see 126). 98 The multilayered meaning of figures as countable numbers as well as vague shapes permeates the novella persistently, but in a decreasingly blurry way. The story begins with dense list-like enumerations, “mit 107 Reitern” (RG: 39), “acht Gemeinen” (ibid.), “zwölf mit Karabinern bewaffnete Leute” (ibid.), “achtzehn Studenten” (ibid.), “siebenundzwanzig neuen Gefangenen” (RG: 40), and peaks with “78 Reiter [...] achtundsiebzig Kürasse […] achtundsiebzig aufgestemmte, nackte Klingen” (ibid.) and “aus tausend Dachkammern“ (ibid.), further featuring “zwei ineinander verbissene, blutende Ratten“ (RG: 43p.), “drei Hunde“ (RG: 44) and a small insect, the “Tausendfüßen“ (RG: 45). There are also a couple of actual numerals in the descriptions (“Den 22. Juli 1848, vor 6 Uhr morgens”, RG: 39; “Gegen 10 Uhr vormittags”, ibid.), but most of the other numbers are written out in words, which melds letters and digits into Harawayan metaplasms. These types of figuration seem to move onward chronologically, but in fact they twist inward and spiral beyond the level of lineary order. Thus, they shape layers of entanglement and structure a texture of signs (e.g. numberwords), artefacts (e.g. gear, tack, weapons), and especially animals (rodents, canines, insects, equines) and humans, such as the Reitergestalt in the infamous and often-analyzed Doppelgänger75 episode. The encounter between Lerch and his other Selbst, Spiegelbild or Doppelgänger is a good example for the diffusion from large-scale definite forms to an obscure particularized outline: the look-alike is first called “de[r] ander[e] Reite[r]” (RG: 45), then just “der andere” (ibid.), and 75 Wilpert’s thorough analysis of the so-called Doppelgänger in RG calls attention to the uncritical use of this term–and the plain wrong term Spiegelbild–in the research literature. It also works through similar “übersinnlich-parapsychologisch[e] Erklärungsmodell[e]” (129) such as Traumbild, Halluzination, Vision, Gespenst, Todesbote, Vorahnung; Wilpert wonders about the existence of a Doppelreiter or Doppelpferd (see 127) instead. Considering the realness of the identical looking rider Lerch sees, but the soldiers Holl and Scarmolin do not see, the scholar suggests to trust the horse as an animal with an unerring instinct, who is startled by the phenomenon. He concludes that Hofmannsthal creates a new genre this way, the unheimliche Geschichte (uncanny story), which combines elements that are both undeniable and undefinable. 99 finally simply an “Erscheinung” (ibid.), “Wesen” (ibid.) or “Gestalt” (ibid.). The focus blurs and shifts from the encountered parties to the encountering itself, because neither the characters nor their counterparts are relevant as entities. Instead, the narration foregrounds the riding towards each other and the subsequent entangling of real and unreal. Harawayan figures deal with the dirty, ugly and deathly, and thus often seem monstrous. Her reference to the etymological root in Latin monstrum meaning ‘advice’ or ‘warning’ corresponds to a common interpretation of the double as an omen for the Wachtmeister’s oncoming death.76 Focusing instead on the constant folding and unfolding of figurations, the meshing of Lerch/Brauner with their double-rider/double-horse while riding towards each other, it is mundane aspects that count in this analysis. The worldly overcoming of borders between two or more species and layers of reality and irreality, and the micro- and macrocosms that overlap on the bridge outside the village are central. The Doppelgänger, double, mirror image or mirage also figures as both a chimerical vision and a concrete perception, an imagined creature and vivid reality, a literary character as well as a biological phenomenon. A corporeal Reiter meets a symbolic shadow, which constitutes an encounter within the text but also between text and world.77 In this paragraph, the Lerch/Brauner figuration meets its double, which raises questions of flesh and sign. As a story, this simultaneously queries ideas of fact and fiction: Are Lerch and Brauner in the flesh reality or signs in a text? Is the Doppelgänger in the text another in-text-reality or made-up? According to 76 Several RG researchers read the Doppelgänger as a romantic-folkloric symbol of imminent death (see Alewyn, Über HvH 84; Mayer, HvH 129; Rieder 320). Only few scholars go beyond this interpretation on the level of irreality and identify the double as at least partly real. Interestingly, the accompanying horse often plays a role in rendering the apparition into an audible, visible, almost tangible appearance but is still not entrusted with agency (see Tarot 345p. and Träbing 715). 77 Botterman sees how the real and the symbolic sporadically merge in RG, but claims that they never overcome the ambivalent split between reality and poetry, history and metaphysics. 100 Haraway’s conceptualization, both encounters–the one between the two figures in the text and the one between the world/flesh and the text/sign–are material-semiotic nodes in which bodies and meanings co-shape one another in multiple layers. Neither Lerch/Brauner nor their double exist as such before they meet on the bridge outside the village, which marks a liminal zone of connecting and separating. Neither the real Austrian cavalry riders nor the imagined characters in the novella obtain meaning before they are entangled in RG. The most prominent example of CS’s motto ‘the partners do not precede the meeting’ is the practice of riding which Lerch and Brauner share. They are not isolated beings simply connected when they ride, but integrated species who concatenate on all levels of riding, from physical touch over perception to operation.78 Because they entangle in equitation, they become a figure embedded in everyday life and action, and thus illustrate several layers of symbiosis. The man and the horse cohabit as a dyad of two different kinds, and their shared practice of riding as a conjoint movement and use of tools and terrain coexists with the world. There are three moments in RG in which this symbiotic riding and perpetual experiencing the world as a pair that is chained together in practice stands out. In the first, the pair rides through Milan and stops due to the Wachtmeister’s curiosity and Brauner’s stiff steps: Neugierde bewog ihn, sich im Sattel umzuwenden, und da er gleichzeitig aus einigen steifen Tritten seines Pferdes vermutete, es hätte in eines der vorderen Eisen einen Straßenstein eingetreten, er auch an der Queue der Eskadron ritt und ohne Störung aus dem Gliede konnte, so bewog ihn dies alles zusammen, abzusitzen, und zwar nachdem er gerade das Vorderteil seines Pferdes in den Flur des betreffenden Hauses gelenkt hatte. (RG: 41) 78 Schunicht also concludes that RG blends together the narration of images and procedures–Vorgangs- und Bildgeschehen–, but finds the resulting “geheimnisvolle Verflochtenheit” (292) of the characters with superior structures of life and death to be a purely poetic strategy to reach “größere Realität” (ibid.) in the text. 101 The second instance occurs when they ride through the village and slow down due to Brauner’s sluggish steps, and discover a woman wandering up front: Sein Pferd ging schwer und schob die Hinterbeine mühsam unter, wie wenn sie von Blei wären. Indem er sich umwendete und bückte, um nach dem rückwärtigen Eisen zu sehen, schlürften Schritte aus einem Hause, und da er sich aufrichtete, ging dicht vor seinem Pferde eine Frauensperson, deren Gesicht er nicht sehen konnte. (RG: 43) In the third moment they continue riding with the squadron after stopping at Vuic’s house due to the horse’s peer pressure to catch up and not be left behind: Unter dem hörte er im Haus mehrfach Türen zuschlagen, fühlte sich von seinem Pferde zuerst durch stummes Zerren am Zaum, dann, indem es laut den anderen nachwieherte, fortgedrängt, saß auf und trabte der Schwadron nach, ohne von der Vuic eine andere Antwort als ein verlegenes Lächeln mit in den Nacken gezogenem Kopf mitzunehmen. (RG: 42) In all three examples horse and human figure together. Their riding, or even a disturbance in their riding, connects them with each other and with other artefacts (horse shoe, reins, the ground), animals (human women, the conspecific cavalry horses) and actions (observing Vuic, the older woman and the squadron, hearing doors shut, walking, trotting). Interspecies practices are never just doubles, they often involve more than two species as well as nonanimals. In these particular paragraphs, the CS Lerch and Brauner also co-constitute each other: Lerch becomes a curious, insubordinate, desire-ridden soldier on the back of his mount who enables him to see the woman higher up in the window, quickly separate himself from the group, enter her room, and return after reclaiming his old love. Brauner becomes a sensitive cavalry horse with bonds to conspecifics, who is cared for and checked upon by his rider when covering uncertain grounds and leads the way back to the group. Mutual figuration happens within the interspecies team which together figures out the world. In reference to the German verb erfahren, based in the 102 root verb fahren (‘to drive’) and meaning ‘to experience’, it can be said: Lerch/Brauner erreiten ihre Welten. This dyad explores and experiences the world through the practice of riding The figures in RG are concrete but simultaneously unclear composite entities such as the eponymic Reiter, numbers, words and numberwords, the Doppelgänger, and Lerch/Brauner as practicioners of riding. They are made of flesh and blood reality just as they are made-up by the potentialities of fiction and grammatical form. Especially the soldier and his horse, who co-constitute each other via material and terrestrial components, ultimately hover over the landscape and create a liminal zone between hovering and treading hooves; they also move flexibly between the realm of linear human history and spiraling Texttier. Endless worldly encountering and entangling precedes whatever Wesen is–or better: are–involved in the process, just as riding and the written story twist and tie Lerch and Brauner together as a CS figure. 126.96.36.199 Contact Zones: Lerch/Zügelhand/Brauner The notion of contact zones refers to a multitude of different disciplines, but CS theory refines it further in terms of humanimal relationships. This concentration on certain moments in the entanglements of species and other entities adds more details to the figurations described above. There are two examples for contact zones in RG: the location and fictional setting of the analysed figures, and the human, material and animal enmeshments during riding and fighting. The first characteristic of contact zones is that they do not include abstract ideas, such as the Human and the Horse and how they essentially connect, but rather deal with particular partners in a specific context, such as Anton Lerch and his horse Brauner set in the Second Italian War of Independence in a story written by Hofmannsthal around 1900 in Austria. The narration gives some information about the two characters and embeds them into their 103 environment. Lerch is an Austrian Wachtmeister, and as a sergeant has several subordinate officers; he had a love affair with the woman Vuic in Vienna ten years ago; he seems frustrated with the poor, exhausting life as a soldier and greedily dreams of a comfortable, well-off civilian existence; he dislikes his superior cavalry captain Rofrano after years of service. Brauner is Lerch’s war horse, a brown male (either gelding or stallion) with white booted forelegs and the only animal with this colour pattern in the squadron; he wears horse shoes and military style tack; he gets spooked by screaming rats, slips on the oily road surface but is otherwise well-trained and sure-footed. These features do not essentialize the nature of the specimen, but evince their culturalization within certain practices. The narrative providing such clear and concrete details about the protagonists somehow clashes with the novella’s rather ambiguous and underdetermined title Reitergeschichte, instead of for example Lerchs letzter Ritt or Der Eisenschimmel. However, the fact that the word Reiter–on the one hand vague, on the other hand clearly referring to a hybrid–involves a functioning human-horse-dyad makes it accessible for an analysis of contact zones shared by the associated partners. Contact zones can be found between concrete and chimerical figures, in the world, in texts, in textual worlds, and are always historically located. In RG, it is supposedly the setting of the Second Italian War of Independence during one day, July 22nd 184879 between sunrise and sunset, in the area of Milan where the Austrian army defends their Lombardy territory. Lerch and Brauner are part of the avant-garde platoon under Leutnant Graf Trautsohn during several successful, action-packed skirmishes. 79 Fewster explains the onomastic significance of the chosen date, which combines historical, military as well as symbolical contexts. This day marks the beginning of a victorious battle of Radetzky’s Austrian regiment against the Italian troops, and is also the feast day of the Catholic St. Mary Magdalene who promises salvation for sinners (see “Onomastics” 33p.). 104 The fighting scenes in this setting are filled with specific encounters that shape the enmeshed subjects in interaction, which is where according to Haraway contact zones are able to change the agents. Details of fighting commotion and touch during the main combat feature contact zones between humans, animals and the tools and techniques that connect them. The Doppelgänger episode transitions smoothly and straightaway into an Austrian attack of the enemy. The protagonist watches his fellow fighters, his superior and opponents killing and being killed, and acts as a warrior himself–all in one paratactic80 structure: Im stärksten Galopp eine Erdwelle hinansetzend, sah der Wachtmeister die Schwadron schon im Galopp auf ein Gehölz zu, aus welchem feindliche Reiter mit Piken eilfertig debouchierten; sah, indem er, die vier losen Zügel in der linken Hand versammelnd, den Handriemen um die Rechte schlang, den vierten Zug sich von der Schwadron ablösen und langsamer werden, war nun schon auf dröhnendem Boden, nun in starkem Staubgeruch, nun mitten im Feinde, hieb auf einen blauen Arm ein, der eine Pike führte, sah dicht neben sich das Gesicht des Rittmeisters mit weit aufgerissenen Augen und grimmig entblößten Zähnen, war dann plötzlich unter lauter feindlichen Gesichtern und fremden Farben eingekeilt, tauchte unter in lauter geschwungenen Klingen, stieß den nächsten in den Hals und vom Pferd herab, sah neben sich den Gemeinen Scarmolin mit lachendem Gesicht einem die Finger der Zügelhand ab- und tief in den Hals des Pferdes hauen, fühlte die Mêlée sich lockern und war auf einmal allein, am Rand eines kleinen Baches, hinter einem feindlichen Offizier auf einem Eisenschimmel. (RG: 45p.; my emphasis) The described actions are in grammatical contact, since they are not only listed with commas but also simultaneously connected and separated by permeable semicolons. This impressionist scene takes Lerch and Brauner from suddenly joining the battle and fighting in the mêlee to abruptly standing alone. It literally links agents such as a group of soldiers (Schwadron), single cavalry 80 Robertson finds the coordinated clauses here and in other scenes, which he calls “crowded moments” (321) filled with vivid, conjoint action. However, he claims that these “events, impressions or emotions crammed into a single moment” (ibid.) create RG’s resistance to interpretation. 105 horses (Pferd), human and animal body parts (Hand, Gesicht, Hals), weapons and tack (Pike, Zügel) or a combination of the latter two (Handriemen, Zügelhand), all of which form a chain with overlapping loops. The individual agent’s independence matters less than it being interconnected with others, and only by going through these technical cycles can they gain subject or object status at all. Eventually, the passage reads like following a spiral movement composed of the Harawayan concept: First of all, the contact zones are created in face to face (Gesichter) involvement. Second, the interaction happens in ‘the open’ where the interactors ‘become with’ each other and somehow blend together: Lerch immerses into the crowd (tauchen, ‘to dive’) and is wedged in (einkeilen) among the opponents. He is not only located on the shaking ground but inside the smell of a dust cloud and finally mitten im Feinde, amidst the enemy. Third, the cavalry action changes the participating human, animal and material agents, with horse-riding leading the way before all other activities of war: holding onto the reins with one hand is such an essential element in this practice, that the soldier’s hand merges with these lines leading to the horse’s headgear and its mouth, and has but this one composite function: Zügelhand, rein hand. All three of these characteristics of contact zones are condensed in the murder scene following the combat analyzed above: Der Offizier wollte über den Bach; der Eisenschimmel versagte. Der Offizier riß ihn herum, wendete dem Wachtmeister ein junges, sehr bleiches Gesicht und die Mündung einer Pistole zu, als ihm ein Säbel in den Mund fuhr, in dessen kleiner Spitze die Wucht eines galoppierenden Pferdes zusammengedrängt war. Der Wachtmeister riß den Säbel zurück und erhaschte an der gleichen Stelle, wo der Finger des Herunterstürzenden ihn losgelassen hatten, den Stangenzügel des Eisenschimmels, der leicht und zierlich wie ein Reh die Füße über seinen sterbenden Herrn hinhob. (RG: 46; my emphasis) 106 Again, in seemingly one smooth spiral concatenation of intense action (reißen, fahren, zusammendrängen) the bodies and parts of human, animal and material agents come together in contact zones, interfusing and forming each other, very lively and fatally at the same time. This creates a scene of intertwining, interlocking, and even interpenetration made possible by the agents’ co-presence in practices such as fighting and riding, or even fighting/riding, fighding. An example for fighding is how Lerch’s usually hand-powered sabre outdoes the enemy officer’s pistol with the help of actual horsepower: the force of Brauner’s gallop rams the weapon into the enemy’s mouth as Lerch/Brauner ride towards Offizier/Eisenschimmel in their attack. The most complex fighding contact zone is generated with and around the Stangenzügel which the Austrian soldier catches in the exact moment the dying Italian officer releases it. A Stangenzügel or Kandarenzügel (curb bit) is a pair of extra reins besides the Trense (snaffle bit). Its two reins are strapped to the Zügelring by the horse’s mouth and lead along its neck to the riders’ left Zügelhand, where they hold one with the pointer and the other one with the middle finger, while the Trensenzügel is looped under the ring finger of both hands. In the literally entangling leather reins lies the materiality of the human-horse connection and control. Their meaning is a mutual exchange, whether it is between rider and mount, or between rider and Handpferd (near horse). The dyad is enriched with a third participant in their riding, the captured strawberry roan, and becomes Lerch/Brauner/Eisenschimmel. The prey horse walks, trots and gallops alongside the Reiter, concatenated to them by leather straps only but without further physical contact than the zone of human-hand-rein-horse-mouth. The beautiful roan even avoids stepping on its former rider by lightly lifting its feet over him, and is furthermore described as prancing and sidling about with an elevated head while breathing heavily (see RG: 46). This horse is also delicate and 107 young, and such features, combined with the fact that it failed when the officer wanted to cross the river on it, indicate that it is not as well-trained as Brauner. Whereas aspects of human-animal training–especially its playful facet–apply less to RG, the issue of power is relevant for the Reiterfigur Lerch/Brauner as for any significant relationship in the Harawayan sense. First, the two companions go through moments of asymmetry, in which the power is not equally distributed: sometimes Brauner decides when to move on, e.g. when he whinnies81 after the leaving squadron and pulls on the bridle while Lerch talks to Vuic (see RG: 42). In other scenes Lerch determines the speed and direction, e.g. in the village when he slows Brauner down to a walk (see RG: 43) or spurs him into a gallop (see RG: 44). Second, this unequal arrangement of power (and other aspects) between the companion species is acceptable and does not lessen their connection. Communication is possible despite the many differences and it is the human’s responsibility to respond. Hence, Lerch reacts to his horse’s push, mounts it and catches up with the group. To be exact: he feels his horse’s urge and follows it (see RG: 42), but he also feels Brauner’s stiff steps or slipping moves and checks the horse shoes or slows down (see RG: 41, 43). Third and finally, this mutual attunement of rider and horse contains the concatenated bodily, sensible, and mental facets described above, and thus makes riding an isopraxis. Their shared practice is one of cultural discipline and natural spontaneity, in which the agents are always more than one individual but less than a two-piece, more complex than a harmonious unity and less simple than a basic binary. These contact zones are constantly being constructed along the edges of species, movement, material, and concrete situations in a historical setting. They create liminalities in 81 Brauner’s behaviour is typical for horses: The whinny is shown to mostly be a social expression, via which equines exchange information such as group membership, status, gender and body size, suggesting the existence of coding/decoding activity and social knowledge in horses (see Hausberger et al.). 108 which CS figure through complex enmeshments instead of simple entities along asymmetric power relations. The entanglement of fact and fiction, as well as mundanity and meaning is especially present in the Reiter figure and the ongoing figuration of reiten in RG. 188.8.131.52 Equitation Science: Lerch/Schenkeldruck/Brauner In the light of a critical approach to humans’ relationship with animals, ES focusses on the interface between the species. Studying their communication in the practice of riding and the ethical aspects of their shared activity considers the intricacy within the rider-horse-network. This resonates with an interdisciplinary CLAS interpretation of riding in RG, which illuminates some of the ethological, zoological and equestrian entangling in the literary representation of this cultural technique. These aspects are analyzed under the assumption that “predictions about the nature of relationships cannot be made with confidence for all horses and all humans” (ES: 53). This is in line with CS theories’ principle of a non-essentializing analysis of creatures in connection. Therefore, it is not Lerch or his level of horsemanship–and even less the poorly defined idea of riders’ “horse sense” (ES 49)–but Brauner’s “horsonality” (ES 41) that is the focus like in none of the anthropocentric RG interpretations before. There are two episodes in Lerch and Brauner’s riding practice which are relevant for an analysis with ES concepts due to their intensity and specificity: the perception of environment during the panoramic ride through the village, and the particular riding aids the man gives his mount during their journey over the plains and streets on this summer day. First of all, Lerch and Brauner’s excursion from the squadron to explore the village for potential prey or enemies is a central part of the narrative. It is framed by a march through Milan and a skirmish in the fields, and features the sergeant riding alone, encountering street animals 109 and livestock as well as an old woman and a Doppelgänger. Focussing on the horse’s perspective82 and perception of the ride, its shying and being startled opens a world not experienced in the same way by the rider: Unter einer Türschwelle zur Linken rollten zwei ineinander verbissene blutende Ratten in die Mitte der Straße, von denen die unterliegende so jämmerlich aufschrie, daß das Pferd des Wachtmeisters sich verhielt und mit schiefen Kopf und hörbarem Atem gegen den Boden stierte. (RG: 43p.) The sudden sound of the screaming rat surprises Brauner, he reacts by stopping and staring at the ground where the rodents roll around, which breaks up the relatively regular riding so far. This reaction is partly the result of the physicalities of a horse, its “tremendous peripheral vision” (ES 26) and its ability “to detect minute cues from other animals around them” (ibid.). ES also explains shying, among other so-called fight and flight responses, with a shift of stimulus control from the equestrian and his signals to the environment surrounding the riding dyad, which causes the horse to act adversely: For all animals, the world is full of conflicting stimuli, so certain stimuli achieve stimulus control at the expense of others. A plastic bag blowing by may attain stimulus control of a horse’s behavior at the expense of the rider’s signals. When the environment maintains stimulus control over the ridden or handled horse, the horse may baulk, accelerate, shy, rear or buck in response to the environmental stimulus instead of responding to the signals from the rider or handler. (ES 128; original emphasis) For the moment of shying, stopping and staring, the connection between human and horse is interrupted and the chain of signals and responses embedded in mutual kinematic and biomechanical rhythms is literally halted. When horses react fearfully to environmental 82 An altogether anthropocentric approach to Brauner’s perspective is shown by Mollenhauer, who detects “[n]ur im Verhalten seines Pferdes […] den Ausdruck menschlicher Wahrnehmung” (292). 110 phenomena and change pace or course “the rider momentarily loses contact and position” (ES 152). Therefore, “placing the horse’s direction under the stimulus control of the rider is of primary importance” (ibid.) to continue riding. In Lerch’s case, he immediately adds pressure to Brauner’s belly with his legs which moves them forward again: “Ein Schenkeldruck brachte es wieder vorwärts” (RG: 44). It is noteworthy that this leg pressure is applied as a pure body technique without the help of spurs. This conforms to ES’s recommendation to reduce tools and remain in more direct contact between the human and equine bodies, in order to establish a safe environment for their shared riding: “[T]he aim of correct training is to diminish all painful interventions, such as strong or relentless bit or spur signals, to discriminative stimuli. This highlights the importance of self-carriage in creating a predictable umwelt for the ridden horse” (ES 128). Self-carriage, meaning the horse’s position and motion on its own without hanging its head’s weight into the reins, is achieved by applying light pressures with body parts only. Except basic reins and saddles, the use of tools for more than the training phase or occasional short-term effect is avoided (see ES 179pp.). However, even though it is accepted that a horse once trained can keep the position and pace shaped by the rider on its own, “it is unrealistic to expect that the horse would go on ad infinitum without any signals” (ES 155). It is the practice of riding that keeps the human/horse dyad moving, and thus creates a spatial bubble of shared rhythms, isorhythm and companionship. Another outstanding and often overlooked moment of world-making through riding is Brauner’s contribution to the Doppelgänger scene, which begins with him sensing the opponent in the distance before his rider does: Wie nun zugleich aus der Brust seines Pferdes ein schwerer rohrender Atem hervordrang, er dies ihm völlig ungewohnte Geräusch aber nicht sogleich richtig erkannte und die Ursache davon 111 zuerst über und neben sich und schließlich in der Entfernung suchte, bemerkte er jenseits der Steinbrücke und beiläufig in gleicher Entfernung von dieser als wie er sich selbst befand, einen Reiter des eigenen Regiments auf sich zukommen, und zwar einen Wachtmeister, und zwar auf einem Braunen mit weißgestiefelten Vorderbeinen. (RG: 45) The cavalry horse breathes audibly, uttering a sound so unusual that the soldier does not even attribute it to the animal but seeks its source above and beside himself, before seeing their double on the other side of the bridge. Equine ethology comments on the characteristic feature of horses to react to visuals and memorize them: “Every horseperson knows that the horse is acutely aware of changes in its visual environment. To the detriment of training, the horse appears to remember far better than the rider ‘what happened where’” (ES 12). This context-specific and place-dependent learning is illustrated by Brauner’s behavior, who, as a travelling cavalry horse during war, is exposed to multiple environmental challenges for an equine, such as “leaving the home range, deviating from an obvious track and traversing, rather than avoiding, obstacles” (ES 24). He faces all of these during the village ride that culminates at the old stone bridge. Brauner seems to be more sensitive to the circumstances than Lerch, who only becomes aware of them thanks to his horse.83 This is a typical trait of the horse-rider-relationship: [I]t is worth pointing out that there are some situations where acknowledging the horse’s superior sensory abilities allows them to communicate these and influence the rider’s decisions. Examples are endurance riding over unfamiliar land or trail-riding where hazards (e.g. bogs, weak bridges and predators) may be undetected by the rider to the detriment of the safety of both participants. (ES 18) 83 Fiedler discovers that it is in fact Lerch’s horse that first reacts to the Doppelgänger: “[Es ist] Tatsache, daß Lerchs Pferd das primäre Erkenntnissubjekt ist” (155). This comment on Brauner’s ability and agency of perception considering time, place and the supernatural is not further elaborated though; instead, Fiedler focusses on Hofmannsthal’s reference to Schopenhauer’s idea of ghost visions. 112 It is possible that Brauner communicates with Lerch about the upcoming dangers of the surface structure and an encounter with a stranger. But since their relating in riding is mutual, an influence going the other way is just as possible: “[I]t is acknowledged that horses may detect subtle differences in the behavior of a nervous human and respond with increased preparedness” (ES 13). Lerch’s elevated heart rate due to the strains of war, personal problems and the stressful ride on slippery cobble stones can transfer to Brauner’s body and trigger a nervous noise and a wary walk. The communication between the two species in riding is a system without verbal language, employing “body-to-body contact” (ES 41) and “’kinesthetic empathy’” (ibid.) and resulting in an “embodied experience” (ibid.). This creates a ‘worldview’ of connected spatial perception and a sense of umwelt shared and shaped through practice. It can never be known “precisely how horses perceive and interpret their world” (ES 27), but their response to human response and vice versa surely yield complex, vivacious activity. Second, it is necessary to examine the riding aids that are presented in the text. There are three particular equestrian means which Lerch and Brauner practise throughout the narrative: the human’s “Schenkeldruck” (RG: 44; my emphasis) to drive the horse forward after it stops, pulling the reins to slow down and steer the animal another way (see RG: 45), as well as feeling the mount’s gait through the seat (see RG: 43, 45). This is reminiscent of ES’s principal statements about riding. First, “[u]nder-saddle, there are three points of physical interaction between rider and horse: legs, seat and reins” (ES 142); second, these bodily clues are connected to three different types of basic commands: acceleration, deceleration and turning (see ES 128pp.); finally, the rider’s signals delivered to the horse “must never clash and should be separated” (ES 150) to avoid “confusion and negative welfare implications” (ES 159). 113 However, distinguishing distinct aids from hands, legs and bottom is complicated, since “[e]very composite movement in equitation is optimally elicited by closely spaced yet separated single signals” (ibid.)–meaning, for instance, that in order to go forward and turn at the same time, leg and rein signals are at play not concurrently but imminently concatenated. This fine-tuning of communication and locomotion is featured in RG, when Lerch and Brauner meet other animals in the village and face obstacles: Brauner walks slow and dodges the group of dogs biting his legs, then Lerch suddenly spurs the horse so they gallop away only to swiftly rein it in again to avoid collision with a cow: Die Hündin aber lief in blöder Hast vor dem Reiter hin und her; die beiden jungen [Hunde] schnappten lautlos mit ihrem weichen Maul nach den Fesseln des Pferdes, und das Windspiel schleppte seinen entsetzlichen Leib hart vor den Hufen. Der Braun konnte keinen Schritt mehr tun. Als aber der Wachtmeister seine Pistole auf eines der Tiere abdrücken wollte und die Pistole versagt, gab er dem Pferd beide Sporen und dröhnte über das Steinpflaster hin. Nach wenigen Sätzen aber mußte er das Pferd scharf parieren, denn hier sperrte eine Kuh den Weg, die ein Bursche mit gespanntem Strick zur Schlachtbank zerrte. (RG: 44; my emphasis) The chain-like connected parts of riding further link with other practices, such as shooting, and thus form a certain flow of movements and even events. However, these flowing chains in riding do not only create a network of actions, but mostly interweave within the practice, for example considering the rider’s and the horse’s physical involvement during the various paces: Coordinated contractions of the rider’s muscles do not only stabilize the rider but they also synchronise with the horse’s motion and, furthermore, can influence the horse’s performance. So, the musculature of experienced riders coordinates with the rhythm of the horse’s strides and each gait is characterized by a corresponding cyclic pattern of the rider’s biomechanics. (ES 143) Of these mutual physical influences between the two species, also called “flow-on effects” (ibid.), the rider’s effect on the horse’s kinematics, the equipment used, and the forces with 114 which they as a team impact the ground are most fruitful for this RG analysis. Since “[i]t is difficult to keep track of many body parts at one moment” (ES 144), looking at the individual aids–legs, reins and seat–in detail provides insight into what exactly happens in the space between Reiter and Reitpferd that creates the rhythm of reiten. Passing through the village, two rats on the street startle Brauner so that he stops. Lerch runs him on by pressing his legs onto his belly: “[D]as Pferd des Wachtmeisters verhielt [sich] und [stierte] mit schiefem Kopf und hörbarem Atem gegen den Boden. Ein Schenkeldruck brachte es wieder vorwärts“ (RG: 44). The German word Schenkel, best translated as ‘shank’, is relatively vague in this context, since there are Oberschenkel, meaning the thigh, and Unterschenkel, meaning the lower leg, which is the only crural body part used in riding aids signaling forward motion. However, ES sees the pressure of the whole leg as “naïve or poorly trained” (ES 144) and states that “light pressure of the calves” (ibid.) is optimal. Increasing pressure is only needed depending on whether the acceleration happens from a stop, to a faster gait or to lengthen a gait’s steps, according to the rule “the greater the speed change, the stronger the signals” (ES 157). Lerch and Brauner’s riding in RG thematises such transition of movement and motion as well as a sensitive interspace between species’ body parts, which becomes more obvious regarding the application of tools such as spurs. Lerch uses them sparingly, and according to the newest notions of ethical riding only to fortify and refine leg signals (see ES 142) of acceleration for a quick response. This is revealed in the language: “[S]o trieb er ungeduldig sein Pferd sogar mit den Sporen zu einem sehr lebhaften Trabe an” (RG: 45). The rider is so impatient to reach their double that he even uses the spurs to drive on his horse. Whereas the use of spurs is an extension of leg pressure and a material prolongation of the soldier’s body, the leather straps of the bridle are the only connecting tool between the rider’s 115 hand and the horse’s mouth; they are the fundamental signal for deceleration, stopping or going backwards “provided by bit pressure via the reins” (ES 148). Lerch rips the reins back when he recognizes the opponent on the bridge to be his double, to make Brauner stop abruptly and retreat: “[D]er Wachtmeister, mit stierem Blick in der Erscheinung sich selbst erkennend, [riß] wie sinnlos sein Pferd [zurück]” (RG: 45). As with leg pressure, the ideal way of signaling ‘slow down’ or ‘stop’ for ES goes along a scale of pressure and avoids sudden application: Similar to the acceleration responses, the backwards response is triggered by escalating pressure. The light pressure acts as a predictor of a period of stronger pressure and its subsequent release, so that the horse soon learns to respond to the light signals. (ES 136) The human protagonist and his horse partner skip the order and in-betweens on the scale of strong pressure-light pressure-no pressure, and thus become sensitive for such sequences in the analyzed novella. The crucial characteristic of the transition is that pressure and power spring from both sides and operate mutually, which is illustrated in the scene in which Brauner just as impatiently tugs on the reins to rush Lerch to leave Vuic’s place: “er […] fühlte sich von seinem Pferde, zuerst durch stummes Zerren am Zaum, dann, indem es laut den anderen nachwieherte, fortgedrängt” (RG: 42). This mutuality not only exists in-hand but especially when the rider is in the saddle. Here, it is an even more sensitive connection since “[t]he horse’s mouth never evolved to accommodate a bit” (ES 181) and can suffer severe damage depending on the metal or leather contraptions around gum, tongue, teeth, nose and jaw, and the severity of the action used to apply pressure. To avoid equine pain, the main principle of training according to ES is the following: “It is imperative that lightness is the goal, unconditionally and throughout training. While moments of pressure may well be required to acquire certain responses, the horse should be free to travel in self-carriage” (ES 149). Considering the cognitive difficulty signals of 116 deceleration present for the horse–“The reins are physically distant from the part of the body that is intended to respond: the legs” (ibid.)–explains how sometimes the bit can be heavy instead of light, either if the animals rest their head on it or if the humans hang their weight into it. These ideas add a scale of light-heavy to the practice of riding. Besides the lightness of a fully armoured cavalry jumping over a cemetery wall, heaviness84 is what Lerch mostly senses in Brauner’s gait during their day-long journey on streets and fields, especially in the village: “Sein Pferd ging schwer […]” (RG: 43; my emphasis), and “[er] fühlte aber in der Gangart seines Pferdes eine so unbeschreibliche Schwere” (RG: 45; my emphasis). Since the rider’s hands and legs are less sensitive than the horse’s mouth or belly, the word fühlen does not seem to be a good sensor for detecting heaviness. According to ES, “’feel’ may be a rather inaccurate assessment tool” (ES 142) for reins and calves, but it is the posture of the rider rooted through the seat “what is known as ‘feel’” (ES 181). Whereas reins and legs apply pressure to the horse, the saddle works to distribute pressure from the rider’s weight across the horse’s back and side of the thoracic midline: “the rider’s weight goes directly down to the seat-bones and then to the feet” (ibid.). Hence, Lerch feels the street’s hard cobble stone pavement, the oily, slippery surface or a loose horse shoe through his own upper body, his buttocks, the saddle, the horse’s back. He ultimately feels the steps Brauner takes with his feet in walk, trot, canter and gallop: “the seat follows the movement of the horse’s back in each gait, it is also associated with them” (ES 155; original emphasis). The rider’s seat is a crucial source of signals for the horse and their shared riding: 84 Schmidt discovers a simple “Dualität von leicht und schwer” (74) in RG and in the course of the story even a “Gefühlsveränderung vom Leichten zum Schweren“ (79), in which “[d]as Bewegliche [...] dem Beklemmenden [weicht]“ (82). However, he connects this to Lerch’s growing ‘autism’ and blurry perception of time and space (see 80), a generally inaccessible atmosphere (see 83) and Hofmannsthal’s highly symbolic style. 117 even though it is “most likely to be used in conjunction with subtle leg or rein signals” (ES 157), it not only initiates acceleration, deceleration or direction like the other two aids do, but “has an important function in maintaining the response” (ES 155; original emphasis). The seat makes the riding dyad remain in a particular rhythm or tempo by sweeping forwards or backwards in the saddle. Due to the saddle’s padding and the factors of balance and symmetry for the human body in motion, “the seat is a difficult cue to train and maintain in consistency […] [and] may occur for all but the most elite riders” (ES 157). Cavalry surely belongs to the top bracket of equestrians by training and everyday routine. In the analyzed novella, there are only three moments in which Lerch does not sit on Brauner, entangled in isorhythm: when he dismounts to capture enemies, to check on the horse shoes, and when he slides off the saddle dead. In summary, the analyzed moments of Lerch/Brauner’s riding are concerned with interspecies communication, a spatial sense of their environment, and the world created by their shared practice. Riding, as evinced in RG, contains many in-betweens, transitions, and thresholds, such as they are found in the physical space of alternating close or discontinued contact between the man’s and the mount’s body; it also consists of singular movements linked in concatenated, mutual motion between the two species, and is regulated by human pressure on the horse. Pressure is not simply applied via one clear signal, but is distributed along a scale. ES’s terminology helps to assess the multiple complex zones of liminality in a new way and thus enriches my look at literary riding in terms of CLAS and especially CS aspects. 118 3.1.2 Cultural Techniques 184.108.40.206 Recursive Chains: Lerch-Riding-Brauner The notion of recursive chains is the pivot point in CT studies that establishes an examination of the apriori operations that create culture. Another key element is to consider nonhuman agency in an analysis of cultural endeavours. For the cultural technique horse-riding, the basic mutual connecting of human and equine bodies in motion on the ground is the core. Neither of the two species’ bodies nor their shared action are extensions of the integrated individuals: both are media in the wider sense of CT. A new practice emerges that has no original or natural form. Either later in time or further into the linkage of more complex concatenations do the recursive chains form a network of agents that involves the equestrian equipment and riding environment. The process of chaining together such operations has priority before the resulting chain, and simple operations are less important than recursive ones for an analysis. In a first step, some of the human-animal and material operations surrounding Lerch-Brauer’s riding are located in RG, then the binary distinctions between the human protagonist, his horse and the media processing these distinctions are tracked down. Two examples illustrating the implications of such recursive chains will be analyzed: a possible misappropriation of military riding and a concurrence of the ‘how’ and ‘what’, of producing and performing in horse-riding. The novella is about Reiter, a rider or riders. At first sight, this describes a human straddling an animal and thus only one part of the riding dyad which includes a mount. However, the word, function or profession Reiter implies the involvement of a horse–without it, the novella could be a Fußsoldatengeschichte. Besides the human and horse bodies there are additional agents concatenated in riding, such as the equipment attached to them, the surface and the 119 surroundings. All this forms a network in which the actions conducted by the participants build upon and revert back to each other, linking in loops. There are plenty of such recursive chains traceable in RG, especially when it comes to Lerch-Brauner’s riding. It connects to contiguous operations of the cavalry and creates their own world. One instance is particularly intricate: Im stärksten Galopp eine Erdwelle hinansetzend, sah der Wachtmeister die Schwadron schon im Galopp auf ein Gehölz zu, aus welchem feindliche Reiter mit Piken eilfertig debouchierten; sah, indem er, die vier losen Zügel in der Linken versammelnd, den Handriemen um die rechte schlang, den vierten Zug sich von der Schwadron ablösen und langsamer werden, war nun schon auf dröhnendem Boden, nun im starken Staubgeruch, nun mitten im Feinde, hieb auf einen blauen Arm ein, der eine Pike führte, sah dicht neben sich das Gesicht des Rittmeisters mit weit aufgerissenen Augen und grimmig entblößten Zähnen, war dann plötzlich unter lauter fremden Gesichtern und fremden Farben eingekeilt, tauchte unter in lauter geschwungenen Klingen, stieß den nächsten in den Hals und vom Pferd herab, sah neben sich den Gemeinen Scarmolin mit lachendem Gesicht einem die Finger der Zügelhand ab- und tief in den Hals des Pferdes hineinhauen, fühlte die Mêlêe sich lockern und war auf einmal allein, am Rand eines kleinen Baches, hinter einem feindlichen Offizier auf einem Eisenschimmel. (RG: 45p.; my emphasis) As described above, the material, symbolic and grammatical contact zones form spiral concatenations of human, animal and other agents in this scene filled with rhythmic temporal-spatial operations.85 Focusing on the literal hands-on practices helps to locate the cultural nodes knotted together by these ongoing cycles. The action mostly features a mix of verbs signifying intense movements (hinansetzen, stoßen, ab- und hineinhauen), verbs of sensual perception (sehen, fühlen), or simply to be (sein). There are also verbs fluctuating along a scale of concentration and connection (versammeln, schlingen), of dissolution and dispersion (auflösen, 85 Kobel detects a mix of temporal succession and spatial coexistence which come together in a certain four-dimensional rhythm in Hofmannsthal’s literary work (see 355). This is a rather general observation of the era’s ways to combine das Nacheinander and das Nebeneinander in art, but seems applicable to what I call ‘fighding’. 120 sich lockern), or verbs embodying a spreading development from dense to detached such as debouchieren (‘to debouch’). Altogether, the operations literally mix in what Lerch experiences as die Mêlêe, the melee. A melee is a battle at close distance using hand weapons without ammunition; it is also a traditional exercise for the cavalry in which two opposing teams attempt to snip feathers off of each others’ helmets. Such a hand-to-hand combat at close range within a crowd, fittingly also called Handgemenge (literally ‘blending and mingling of hands’), consists of practices that apply to their own result, thus constituting a military procedure. The riding, fighting, handling, connecting and disconnecting operations as a pattern precede the ontological concept: a mix-up of human and animal bodies, body parts and material.86 As the Rittmeister is described snarling with beastly wide eyes, this concatenation of fighding operations seems to elucidate the instability of differentiations such as inside/outside, human/animal, enemy/ally etc. Separating man from beast connects the two, and actually even makes men more similar to how they construct beasts.87 At first sight, Lerch and Brauner’s bodies, which are entwined in these recursive chains of operations, seem to be linked and separated by the tack used between them. Brauner is equipped with bridle and rein, and pulling on it signals his human to move (see RG: 42); Lerch sits in a saddle and wears spurs to signal his horse into motion (see RG: 44). These tools are embodiments of liminality and belong to neither species or to both at the same time. However, it is not simply the gear between the two–even if the materials used gain agency in action–, but 86 Bosse describes RG as a “Kette der Begebenheiten” (65) in its entirety, and the killing scene particularly as a “Nahaufnahme mit Pferden, menschlichen Körpern, Waffen” (73). Turner discusses the use of weapons in RG in detail, looking at the degree of personal involvement and deathly force of Lerch’s and Rofrano’s pistol and sabre; he comes to the conclusion that they do not serve military but sexual functions (see 131p.). 87 Borgards draws attention to this effect in his anlysis of dogs and wolves: “Eine Serie von trennenden und zugleich instabilen Unterscheidungen, an die der kulturelle Entwurf der Bestie gebunden ist, sind hier im Spiel: Innen und Außen; Kultur und Natur; Nutztier und Raubtier” (“Bestie” 183). 121 rather the joint, corporate moving, the controlled motion sequences or Bewegungsabläufe, in a word, it is the gaits of equitation which make up the distinction and connection of human-horse or rider-mount respectively. Three gaits appear in RG: walk, trot and galopp, Schritt, Trab and Galopp. Sorted according to speed from slow to fast, they serve different functions. Walking is the pace to cover long-distance steadily, as the squadron does after leaving Milan, when Lerch, “einen nicht mehr frischen Schritt reitend” (RG: 42), daydreams about a civilian life. Just before that, Brauner pulls on the reins and makes his rider trot after the group: “[Er] saß auf und trabte der Schwadron nach” (ibid.). During the ride through the abandoned village, Lerch-Brauner mostly switch between setting out to galopp and decelerating to a walk (see RG: 43, 44). In battle they continuously move “im stärksten Galopp” (RG: 45), the fastest gait. Lerch is often in control of the speed and style of their rhythmic riding, but the war horse determines it as well, e.g. when shying away from some rats or rushing after his conspecifics. The surface of the streets and the surroundings also factor in, in form of an even Landstraße, slippery cobblestones, the dry, dusty trodden-in Hutweide or an old bridge, and cause either smooth or stagnated equitation. In this network made of Lerch’s body-Zügel-Sattel-Brauner’s body located in an equestrian landscape and war situation, the shared practice of riding Schritt-Trab-Galopp-and-everything-in-between is the medium that processes the binaries of species (human-riding-horse) or of participation (rider-riding-mount). This even pertains for kindred categories such as Bodenhaftung (horseshoe-riding-hoof, grounding-riding-elevating). It is in the entanglings of equitation that these boundaries are never concluded, but constantly negotiated on a scale, which results in their perpetually productive liminality. 122 An example of the recursive character of riding is its possible misappropriation, or Zweckentfremdung, in the military practice of equitation as presented in RG. Here, certain power relations lead to a mismatch of one operation in riding being the purpose for another, which has an altogether different end. A possible expedience for RG can be expressed as: ([(human rides horse/to move faster) (to) move faster]/to be strong in war). In the text, this change of object within riding is shown in the scene where Lerch stabs an opponent officer: [Er] war auf einmal allein, am Rand eines kleinen Baches, hinter einem feindlichen Offizier auf einem Eisenschimmel. Der Offizier wollte über den Bach; der Eisenschimmel versagte. Der Offizer riß ihn herum, wendete dem Wachtmeister ein junges, sehr bleiches Gesicht und die Mündung einer Pistole zu, als ihm ein Säbel in den Mund fuhr, in dessen kleiner Spitze die Wucht eines galoppierenden Pferdes zusammengedrängt war. (RG: 46) Both riders are alone at the edge of a bigger skirmish, when the Wachmeister rides up behind the young enemy officer, whose horse refuses to cross the creek but then rapidy turns around and faces Lerch’s pistol. Lerch’s sword is driven into the officer’s mouth with the the force of his galloping horse; the animal’s speed changes its purpose from moving fast to giving power to the soldier’s weapon. In this chain of actions, killing is linked with riding, which is characteristic for cavalry. Certainly, this challenges traditional relations of intent and instrument in RG and replaces a cause-and-consequence order with a ramification of purposes along chains. A purely linguistic example for the displacement of purpose can be found in the term parieren (see RG: 43, 44). It translates as both ‘to deflect’ (an attack in sports) and ‘to obey’ in German, but has the additional meaning of ‘to slow down or stop a horse’; the equestrian term Parade is ‘halt’ in English. This indicates that slowing down a horse is interlinked with making the animal obey the 123 riding aids: slowing down an obedient horse to deflect an attack is a crucial action in cavalry riding. Another instance that illustrates the effects of chain-like recursions in the physical and symbolical actions of horse-riding is the convergence of how the bodies ride and what the bodies do in riding–and that meaning is assessed through their utilization.88 While the congruency of herstellen (to produce) and darstellen (to perform) in riding is not as complete as in, for example, writing, the overlap of how human and horse become rider and mount with what they do once astraddle and under the saddle is obvious. Taking the mounting and dismounting in the novella, it becomes clear that equitation only converges within its own solidifying operations and excludes activities that dissolve it. The protagonist takes prisoners at the beginning: “Der Wachtmeister Anton Lerch saß ab, nahm zwölf mit Karabinern bewaffnete Leute, [...] und [...] achtzehn Studenten der Pisaner Legion gefangen” (RG: 39). Later after the battles, Leutnant Trautsohn lets go of boot: Er winkte den Leutnant Grafen Trautsohn zu sich, der dann sogleich absaß und mit sechs gleichfalls abgesessenen Kürassieren hinter der Front der Eskadron die erbeutete leichte Haubitze ausspannte, das Geschütz von den sechs Mannschaften zur Seite schleppen und in ein von dem Bach gebildetes kleines Sumpfwasser versenken ließ, hierauf wieder aufsaß und, nachdem er die nunmehr überflüssigen beiden Zuggäule mit der flachen Klinge fortgejagt hatte, stillschweigend seinen Platz vor dem ersten Zug wieder einnahm. (RG: 46p.; my emphasis) Both times, the men dismount to fulfill general military tasks in war; both times, these tasks are accomplished by performative language along the principle of order and obedience rather than with their bodies. As they mount back into the saddle and move back into their position, they 88 Brinkmann observes similar things for Hofmannsthal’s style and idea of language as a human medium: meaning-making happens strictly in the practice and performance of language, where it can connect/separate and transcend a person’s inside/outside (see 90pp.). 124 reincorporate into the rhythm of riding–tacitly, muted, in silence. Looking closer at language, the equestrian term parieren (see RG: 43, 44) might be an indicator for an overlap of fabrication and figuration again: translated as ‘to slow down or stop a horse’ (in German) and being related to the verb ‘to parade’, meanings of producing certain movements as well as displaying moves along a street lined with spectators coincide in this word: Lerch pariert his galloping Brauner to a walk on the slippery stones (see 55) and when dodging a cow (see RG: 44) in the village, together with the squadron they proudly parade through Milan watched by intimidated civilians. RG shows that riding, especially in everyday cavalry style, constitutes something more sophisticated than concrete, but isolated body techniques. It chains together established series of motions that are embedded in a cultural context. That is why a deeper investigation of the physical facets of Hauke-Schimmel’s equitation and its specific, recursive involvements is the next step in the analysis of riding as a cultural technique. 220.127.116.11 Body Techniques: Lerch-Brauner-Handpferd The concept of body techniques as developed by Mauss is central for the development of CT theories. It not only involves bodies (not ‘the Body’) and their complex net of techniques (as opposed to a singular ‘technique’) in the revision of boundaries between nature and culture, but also includes them as media in recursive chains of people, animals, things and signs. The plurality of body techniques calls for an analysis of concrete examples. With a focus on horse-riding, there are three prominent aspects of physical equitation methods in RG: bodies as primary instruments, body parts and materials merged in practice, and body techniques as socio-historically located entities. 125 As defined above, this analysis is interested in the assemblage of cultural techniques that consists of physical procedures and performances using bodies as the main medium of movement. Horse-riding does integrate other agents, but mostly involves the human and the equine bodies in its basic mode: a human’s whole body is situated on a mount and they move together. Lerch uses his body to feel Brauner’s forward flow and thus notices any change of direction or drive of the horse’s body: “[er] fühlte sich von seinem Pferde […] fortgedrängt, saß auf und trabte der Schwadron nach” (RG: 42; my emphasis), “während er selbst, […] harte Steinplaten unter sich fühlend, […] sein Pferd in Schritt parieren mußte” (RG: 43; my emphasis), “[er] fühlte aber in der Gangart seines Pferdes eine so unbeschreibliche Schwere“ (RG: 45; my emphasis). An emphasis on feeling shows how riding is sensed with the entire body. Whenever their riding feels off, Lerch dismounts or applies equestrian signals with his hands or legs, and Brauner simply disconnects from the rider. Regarding specific requirements of equine care, Lerch often practices horse shoe maintenance: “Kaum hatte er hier den zweiten weißgestiefelten Vorderfuß seines Braunen in die Höhe gehoben, um den Huf zu prüfen […]” (RG: 41); “Indem er sich umwendete und bückte, um nach dem rückwärtigen Eisen zu sehen” (RG: 43). Lerch knows what to do and does it to his best knowledge, skillfully working with the bodies and the involved materials. The second aspect of horse-riding as a body technique is about parts as elements in the entanglements of the practice as a whole. This mostly concerns the artefacts, materials and technologies the human and animal bodies merge with in action, and how they act within the chain of equine procedures. Instead of analyzing separate tools such as horse shoe or reins, or individual steps such as mounting and dismounting, these items and techniques are looked at in their complex coordination–which is how they appear in RG. Despite the fact that entire bodies 126 are entangled by feelings, whole bodies are not explicitly mentioned in the novella’s language. Rather, the text pictures a recursive composition of humanimal body parts, for example in the encounter with the dogs (Kopf, Knochen, Zitzen, Zähne, Lefzen, Beine, Augen, Maul, Fesseln, Hufe, see RG: 44p.) or especially during the contact between Eisenschimmel and other horses (Gesicht, Mund, Finger, Füße, Kopf, Hals, Nüstern, Stirn, Oberleib, see RG: 46pp.). With the capture of Eisenschimmel, a very complex sub-category of the riding practice enters the story: das Handpferd. The English expression ‘near horse’–deriving from the convention of calling the left-hand side of the horse ‘near’ and the right-hand side ‘off’–only indicates that the extra horse is positioned on the left and its leading reins are looped around the rider’s left hand. However, the German composite implies more: the horse as a whole intertwines with the rider’s hand. Also, this horse is guided by the human hand, not the legs, seat or body. Lerch’s greed for the beautiful roan is a one-sided motif but their attachment to each other via the Stangenzügel is a two-sided motion–reins are always reciprocal. Concerning the movement, the new Handpferd coordinates with the earth-bound, grounded riding by contributing its own elevated and airy motions to the connection: “Er ritt zum Rittmeister und meldete, immer den Eisenschimmel neben sich, der mit gehobenem Kopf tänzelte und Luft einsog, wie ein junges, schönes und eitles Pferd, das es war“ (RG: 46; my emphasis). While Lerch-Brauner ride, Eisenschimmel prances, and while the squadron stands dead still, the bounty horse stretches and almost touches Rofrano’s horse, linking further agents to the human-horse-chain of complex successive conjunction: “Die Schwadron stand totenstill. Nur der Eisenschimmel neben dem Wachtmeister streckte den Hals und berührte mit seinen Nüstern fast die Stirne des Pferdes, auf welchem der Rittmeister saß“ (RG: 47; my emphasis). It is noteworthy that despite his military title (literally ‘riding master’) the Rittmeister does not ride his horse but just sits on it. Hence, he 127 might not be a fully integrated part of the chain. The squad has not lost a single man but gained nine near horses, who cause some commotion in the line-up of excited riders: “Auch standen die Pferde nicht ruhig, besonders diejenigen, zwischen denen fremde erbeutete Pferde eingeschoben waren” (RG: 47). The intercalary animals disturb the earlier concatenation, which is why the superior’s casual command–“Handpferde auslassen!” (ibid.)–calling all soldiers to release their redundant near horses, is not followed right away. The bond between human hands and horses is strong. Moreover, the merger of body and technique is also obvious in terms such as Zügelhand (RG: 46, 47) or Zügelriß (RG: 48), in which action, artefact and body part incorporate and become an item in the chain of riding. There is a cultural property tied to the historical situatedness of the characters and setting, which constitutes the cast of RG: the Austrio-Hungarian soldiers of the Italian War of Independence are Kürassiere (RG: 39, 46), synecdochically named after the Kürass–‘cuirass’–they wear, a chest protector covering the body between neck and girdle. Human warrior bodies merge with their defensive technology and turn into riding shields; flesh and blood entangle with leather and metal; action and function overlap and become the embodiment of a very specialized practice. The cuirassiers are indeed a special task force, and also the type of military rider that constitutes, as it were, the transition from medieval knights dressed in heavy full body armour to modern mounted soldiers carrying much lighter weaponry and almost no physical protection. Thus they make for one of the oldest kinds of cavalry and moreover one the most commonly known for the K.u.k empire of the era. The third aspect of the body technique horse-riding present in RG is such a historical-social embedding and its very specialized execution: the cavalry culture around the Jahrhundertwende era in German-speaking Austria during periods of active campaign. The 128 protagonist Lerch, his superior Rittmeister Rofrano, some named (Leutnant Graf Trautsohn, the privates and dragoons Holl, Wotrubek, Haindl and Scarmolin) and many nameless soldiers know the ways in which to use their own bodies in conjunction with each other, horse bodies, tack, weapon, and landscape under the rules of their time, space, material and position. This becomes most obvious when looking at riding in a group that is assembled by and for social authority: die Schwadron or die Eskadron, the squadron. This smallest unit of the cavalry usually contains two smaller units of about one hundred and twenty to two hundred riders each, and takes its name from being arranged in a square shape. In RG, many different divisions and subdivisions of die Armee (the army) or die Legion (the legion) appear and act jointly or ride separately from each other. Besides the squadron as the main group, there are das Streifkommando (RG: 39, 42, 48) or ‘patrol commando’, die Rotte or Rottenkolonne (RG: 40, 42) or ‘squad’, ‘pair’ or ‘line of soldiers’, der Zug (RG: 45, 46) or ‘platoon’, der Trupp and die Truppe (RG: 40) or ‘troop’, ‘corps’ or ‘contingent’, die Mannschaft (RG: 47) or ‘team’, die Eskorte (RG: 40) or ‘accompanying group’, and das Regiment (RG: 45) or ‘regiment’. They all have in common that they consist of a multitude of human and equine bodies and artefacts such as arms and gear, but move as one military entity, or rather, body: a Truppenkörper. Numerous other terms contribute to the notion of bodies-together-in-motion in the military culture, such as der Korporal (RG: 39), the corporal–deriving from Latin corpus, body–or several expressions such as die Avantgarde (RG: 39), der Tete-Zug (RG: 40), die Queue (RG: 41) or das Glied (RG: 41, 47), referring to the head, the length, the tail or the limbs of the squadron, showing how parts or the periphery of the body connect and move as one. On several occasions, a deviation from the multipiece group accentuates its composition of many bodies. Lerch rides at the end of the convoy in Milan and can thus leave without 129 disturbing it (“er [ritt] auch an der Queue der Eskadron […] und [konnte] ohne Störung aus dem Gliede”; RG: 41). Together with two privates, he leaves the marching group sideways (“er [bog], die Gemeinen Holl und Scarmolin zu sich winkend, mit diesen beiden vom Marsche der Eskadron seitlich [ab]”; RG: 43), and observes how a platoon detaches from the larger group in the surprise attack (“sah […] den vierten Zug sich von der Schwadron ablösen”; RG: 45p.). Parts come together or disperse throughout the story. It therefore seems as if all of the riding, moving, attacking, crossing, lining up and passing through happens in constant ramifications, and also in other shapes such as circles, chains and spirals, from umreiten (RG: 40, 43) and einreiten (RG: 40) to durchreiten (RG: 41, 45) and durchgaloppieren (RG: 43). In short: the squadron rides in formation. This unity composed of a plurality of practices can be called corporate riding, which is explicit in the formulations used. There are many collective nouns taking singular verbs without a metonymic shift: “die zweite Eskadron […] ritt gegen Mailand” (RG: 39), “Die Schwadron formierte sich” (RG: 39), “so ritt die schöne Schwadron durch Mailand” (RG: 41), “Die Schwadron stand totenstill” (RG: 47). After their successful day of fighding, the Austrian winners fantasize about breaking out of the compliant formation: “Nach solchen Glücksfällen schien allen der Aufstellungsraum zu enge, und solche Reiter und Sieger verlangten sich innerlich, nun im offenen Schwarm auf einen neuen Gegner loszugehen, einzuhauen und neue Beutepferde zu packen“ (RG: 47). In contrast to the well-organized Austrian army that swarms in rank and file, the enemies are described as “Freikorps” (RG: 39) (literally ‘free bodies’) or “Freischaren” (RG: 40), who are irregular volunteering militia and appear confused (“die ganz verwirrten Feindlichen”; ibid.) instead of body technically connected. The climax of social authority within the cavalry lies in the physical discipline as the epitome, or rather the embodiment of body techniques. Docile, drilled human and equine bodies, 130 as wholes and as interwoven parts ride in single or double file formation along streets and through skirmishes with trained strategies. The Italian fiends flock out of a grove and spread out on the field, a move which is called debouchieren (RG: 45), ‘to debouch’. The soldiers’ schooling and self-dressage precedes the taming and training of the horses, but in the education and everyday practice of cavalry the two species entangle in body techniques that both distinguish and consolidate them and their motions. Even though the equines’ domestication is originally conducted by mankind and even though the media through which the body techniques are transmitted are manmade–the practice is eventually a shared, bilateral product. Lastly, looking at RG’s body techniques as traditional actions, there are no direct references in the story to the education or training of horse-riding, sword fighting, shooting or other military practices–be they constituent or composite–and their oral or written transmission by authorities. Equitation’s movements are culturally acquired and not natural, their sequences are socially dominated rather than merely imitated, and their mastery is informed by media such as manuals. Therefore, the final step in this analysis of Hofmannsthal’s novella is to use contemporary horsemanship manuals from the chosen era and find structural parallels in the practice of riding and horse-handling. Ultimately, this is the furthest this interpretation goes to unravel the historical and hands-on knots of this cultural technique. 18.104.22.168 Horsemanship Manuals: Lerch-Brauner-Hufeisen By employing a posthumanist approach as reflected in CT theories, a look at horsemanship manuals and their processing of riding as a physical activity or military duty provides new insights to this complex, much-explored CS practice. These ideas suit an interdisciplinary CLAS interpretation of the equitation featured in RG, in which Monteton’s contemporary cavalry 131 guidelines reveal further historical and cultural concatenations. Of the numerous instances in everyday cavalry life during war, three provide a deeper understanding of Lerch-Brauner’s riding practice in the Austrian army around the Jahrhundertwende. First, knowing the horse’s general and individual conduct and caring for its needs, second, the proper use of equitation signals and the correct choice of pace, and third, the consideration of surface quality. First, Monteton postulates that the soldier must be thoroughly familiar with his horse, especially its performance over long distances, its speed and skills: “Mir macht es einen sehr ungebildeten Eindruck, wenn ein Reiter nicht einmal über sein eigenes Pferd Bescheid weiß” (Reitkunst 31). Such an awareness of the horse’s character and capacities naturally becomes affection for the animal in war, given that the rider’s wellbeing depends largely on his mount. As Monteton states: “[D]er Reiter [hat] naturgemäß im Kriege sein Pferd sehr lieb, da sein Wohl und Wehe davon abhängt” (Reitkunst 33). The synergy of horse behavior, horsonality and extra care during war times implies that the rider has to protect the animal from potential harm and be easy on it, in order for them to quickly function in serious situations: “Außer in den Momenten, wo es ‘auf Tod und Leben’ geht, muß man immer sein Pferd schonen, damit man eben diesem ‘auf Tod und Leben’ gewachsen ist” (Reitkunst 162). Looking at RG, it appears that Lerch practices these principles and is particularly concerned with Brauner’s hooves and shoes, which he examines promptly in case of only a few stiff or heavy steps (see RG: 41, 43). An illustrating anecdote by cavalry expert Monteton explains the protagonist’s extreme concern in this case: Wer es nicht durchgemacht hat, der weiß gar nicht, was nur ein verlorenes Eisen zu bedeuten hat, und er achtet nicht darauf und reitet arglos weiter, bis das Pferd nicht mehr von der Stelle kann. Ich bin einst im Frühjahr, wo der Erdboden aufging, durch einen Ritt, auf dem ich ein Vordereisen auf dem Hinwege verloren hatte, und mir dies vom Stallknecht erst in dem Augenblick gesagt wurde, als ich wieder fortreiten wollte, von meiner Unerfahrenheit fürs ganze Leben couriert 132 worden. Es waren über 3 Meilen Kies-Chaussee, aber der ganze Weg eine schwimmende Suppe, die dem Pferde über die Hufe ging. Die ersten zwei Meilen merkte ich gar Nichts, aber dann nahm die Lahmheit so schnell zu, daß ich zu Fuß in dieser Cloake neben dem Pferd hergehend, es mit der Peitsche treibend nur ganz langsam bis in den Stall bekam. Der Huf war bis aufs Leben auf dem nassen Kies abgeschliffen; ein Eisen konnte nicht wieder angelegt werden, der Fuß schwoll wie ein Butterfaß an, und konnte nach der sorgsamsten Pflege erst nach 6 Wochen wieder beschlagen werden. (Reitkunst 53) The hooves, arguably some of a ridden horse’s most sensitive body parts, are strengthened with iron shoes to endure the different styles of surface a squadron encounters during exercise or war. There is no quick cure to a limp caused by either loose or lost horseshoes. Hence the cavalryman’s responsibility is to control the hooves regularly, since the safe and healthy movement of his horse determines the success or failure of a mission. Nevertheless, shod hooves are not like booted feet, as a comparison with the infantry shows: Auch hat eine gute, vorsichtig einmarschierte Infanterie fast keine Fußkranke mehr, während bei der besten Kavallerie Druckschäden nie ganz zu vermeiden sind und außerderm vor Huflähmen mitunter der vorsichtigste Reiter sich nicht sichern kann, da er nicht sein eigener Beschlagschmied ist. (Reitkunst 27p.) Besides knowing and caring for the individual horse, the rider also needs to consider the social qualities of his animal and how it interacts with its conspecifics in the troop, which is an aspect appearing in RG as well. While the squadron is preparing for battle in the morning, the group moves in different formations, either as a whole of one hundred and seven riders (“Die Schwadron formierte sich neben der Landstraße zur Attacke”, RG: 39) or in smaller groups and pairs (”Einer das Gehölz umreitenden Rotte, bestehend aus dem Gefreiten Wotrubek und den Dragonern Holl und Haindl”, RG: 40). Once down to seventy-eight soldiers after their successful skirmish and the departure of an escort with bounty, they ride in rank, trekking one after the 133 other nose to tail in a single-file or staggered, which is when Lerch and Brauner can abscond without disruptions (see RG: 41). However, after standing at Vuic’s house for a moment, Brauner first pulls Lerch on the reins and then neighs after the disappearing squadron until they finally catch up. This scene shows the sociability drive and the problem of preventing horses to cling to their conspecifics during treks or files–a common phenomenon in cavalry riding. As Monteton states: “Das Kleben der Pferde zu verhindern besteht nicht in dem Gewöhnen des Alleingehens [...], sondern in dem Entwöhnen des Geselligkeitstriebes, welcher durch die Zusammengehörigkeit des Heerdengefühls in der geschlossenen Truppe beim Pferde erwacht“ (86). This herd instinct is even stronger while not moving, because it leads to a power shift from human to animal: “Nirgends ist die Herrschaft des Reiters über das Pferd so gering, wie im Stehen, und nirgends die Macht des Pferdes größer, als im Gliede” (Reitkunst 87). This applies to either staying while the group moves away, as Lerch-Brauner experience it in Milan, or standing still in a group, as they do during the roll call with the Rittmeister later that day. Here, the squadron is lined up two by two after an exciting day of victory, and the slightly restless riders laugh with each other. All the horses are nervous, but particularly the ones standing next to the newly captured Nebenpferde: Während dieser Zeit verhielt sich die in zwei Gliedern formierte Eskadron nicht eigentlich unruhig, es herrschte aber doch eine nicht ganz gewöhnliche Stimmung, durch die Erregung von vier an einem Tage glücklich bestandenen Gefechten erklärlich, die sich im leichten Ausbrechen halb unterdrückten Lachens sowie in halblauten untereinander gewechselten Zurufen äußerte. Auch standen die Pferde nicht ruhig, besonders diejenigen, zwischen denen fremde erbeutete Pferde eingeschoben waren. Nach solchen Glücksfällen schien allen der Aufstellungsraum zu enge, und solche Reiter und Sieger verlangten innerlich, nun im offenen Schwarm auf einen neuen Gegner loszugehen, einzuhauen und neue Beutepferde zu packen. (RG: 47) 134 The transfer of unease from riders to horses–or rather between them–shifts the focus onto the communication of the two participants and therewith to the second point of this analysis: the equitation signals. According to the manual, two human body parts are needed for proper equitation: “die ordnende Hand und der vorsichtig schiebende Schenkel” (Reitkunst 12). Moreover, it is necessary “das Pferd gut zwischen Zügel und Schenkel [zu] nehmen” (Reitkunst 95). Despite straddling the animal’s belly with “Zangenschenkeln“ (Reitkunst 165)–legs like pliers–the rider is still supposed to apply these riding aids subtly and “schleichend” (Reitkunst 44) to keep the pace stable. Even the spurs are considered a gentle tool to up morale, and not to discipline the body: “Sporen […] sind durchaus keine physisch zwingenden Mittel, nur moralische, die außerhalb des Skeletts liegen” (Reitkunst 91). Lerch seems to abide by these laws using “Schenkeldruck” (RG: 56) and “Zügelhand” (RG: 59) throughout the ride, and only exceptionally deploying the spurs (see RG 57). This synergetic interplay between hands-reins-mouth and legs-spurs-flanks is what Monteton describes as a “Pendelschwingung” (Reitkunst 103) of “[a]nnehmen, nachgeben–annehmen, nachgeben” (ibid.). The paradigmatic episode for this pendulum-like system in RG is Lerch-Brauner’s ride through the decayed village: “durch[…]galoppieren” (RG: 43) and “parieren” (ibid.) alternate. Spurring on and immediately slowing down (see RG: 44) produce a swinging rhythm for the riding dyad. It is all about the rider’s sensitivity, timing and aligning of movements to allow mutuality and equine agency. The sense of scaling to develop balance is a skill that new riders have to learn, and according to Monteton it is taught by the horse: Das Gefühl der gleichmäßigen Haltung […] kann nur das Pferd dem Reiter lehren. Hat der Schüler dies vom Pferde gelernt, so kommt er, als nächste Stufe auf ein gut gearbeitetes Pferd, um sich in 135 seinem Gefühl zu verfeinern, [...] um die Hülfen wiegen und messen zu lernen [...]. Das Alles lehrt ihm das Pferd. (Reitkunst 109p.) Especially during lengthy rides such as the day-long military mission narrated in RG, the rider learns to feel the horse: “[D]er aufmerksame Tourenreiter ist der Schüler seines Pferdes, welches ihm das feine Gefühl lehrt, wenn die Muskeln anfangen zu erschlaffen” (Reitkunst 77). Lerch seems equally excited by the victories as exhausted from the fighting, hence he relies on Brauner’s surefootedness and simply follows the transfer of feel through the chain of surface-hoof-horse body-saddle-seat with timely applied riding signals from his legs and hands. The horse is free to choose the pace (see Reitkunst 43) and to create what Monteton calls “Selbsttempo” (Reitkunst 76). That means adapting its steps and speed to the ground conditions, to its umwelt, and ultimately to its own wellbeing. When Brauner reacts to the disappearing squadron, the rats or street dogs, and most importantly the slippery cobble stones, he practices Selbsttempo and his rider moves along. This leads to the third aspect of cavalry riding present in RG, the attention to the surface. Military missions lead horse and rider over a variety of urban and rural terrain. Monteton stresses that especially during war, the soldiers need to first and foremost focus on the ground under their horses’ hooves and their surroundings, and only after that on orders and enemies: “Alle Soldatenbestimmungen haben ferner den Krieg zur Basis und da hat die Patrouille alle ihre Aufmerksamkeit auf das Terrain, ihren speziellen Auftrag und auf den Feind zu richten“ (Reitkunst 18). This leads to occasional disregard of the horse and explains Lerch’s frequent scanning of the environment left, right and ahead. Nevertheless, the Wachtmeister seems to temporarily forget about the military orders when he explores the village, and loses concentration on the enemy while fighting his own, the Doppelgänger. In these moments of imbalance, Lerch-136 Brauner’s practice falls out of cavalry requirements for smooth riding as well. Communication and a certain equilibrium of pace are key for the equestrian dyad to ensure floating, fast and energy-efficient movements over the earthy grounds: “Der Gang spielt über dem Erdboden; nirgends ist eine besonders kraftraubende Aktion, das Ganze ein Bild eines sich bewegenden Uhrwerks, welches in seinem Gange so ausgeglichen ist, daß auf keiner Stelle etwas Schleppendes, auf keiner Stelle etwas Treibendes sichtbar ist“ (Reitkunst 16; my empasis). Lerch and Brauner differ from this ideal though and depart into a liminal zone around the perfect pace, when the horse drags through the village (see RG: 43) and the rider drives it on with the spurs (see RG: 44). The manual mentions every single of the surface struggles Lerch and his gelding face in the village. There is the cobble-stone pavement right when entering the area, which forces them to slow down into a walk and waste a lot of time passing through (see RG: 43, 44). Monteton records similar events: “Mir erscheint ein Dorf mit schlechtem Steinpflaster, was mich in Schritt zu fallen nöthigt, nicht als Erholung für das Pferd, sondern als eine kraft- und zeitraubende Störung” (Reitkunst 13). As Lerch-Brauner manoeuver around the street dogs, they rush into a galopp, just to stop again immediately: “[Er] gab dem Pferd beide Sporen und dröhnte über das Steinpflaster hin” (RG: 44). This offhanded reaction goes against the expert’s recommendation to stick to a trot on village streets: “Ueber das Steinpflaster in den Dörfern will ich nur noch einiges sagen. Auf nicht ausgefahrenem Pflaster halte ich den gehaltenen Arbeitstrab, [...] der einen besonders lautlosen Gang erzeugt, also ein gelindes Auftreten zu Ursache hat, für nicht dröhnend und knochenruinierend“ (Reitkunst 44). Taking care of the hooves and avoiding the animal’s limping is the priority of a cavallerist; uneven, slippery road surfaces endanger the hooves and legs the most. Monteton sums up: 137 Nun darf das Pferd aber nicht lahm werden, […] also muß sorgfältig Terrain zum starken Trabe vermieden werden, wo das Pferd nicht für den Huf einen festen ebenen Platz zum Fußen hat […]. Das macht schlechtes unebenes Steinpflaster oder glitschriger Boden so gefährlich für Lähmen. (Reitkunst 36) This suggestion is taken seriously when Lerch parries Brauner to a walk upon encountering “irgendein glitschriges Fett” (RG: 43) on the street. The last obstacles to slow horse and rider down and interrupt a steady trot are “Brücken, [und] Eisenbahnübergänge” (Reitkunst 29). Again, the Wachtmeister ignores rules for moderation and even urges his mount to a “sehr lebhaften Trab” (RG: 45) once they get closer to the “Steinbrücke” (ibid.) outside the village. This is the last of the few times where Lerch-Brauner do not act according to Monteton’s cavalry guidelines. But looking at the expert’s praise of inertia, RG’s riding seems to be an example of dissolving the dyad of horsepower-humanpower and expanding it into a scale of in-betweens instead. The manual states, how after creating certain habits while riding together for a while, mount and rider gain momentum and their practice possesses its own internal dynamics: “Die Sache geht nun von selbst” (Reitkunst 115). Monteton values such an Eigendynamik of an equestrian couple to a certain degree, but also speaks of the dangers of a “Strom einer direktionslos stürzenden Reitermasse“ (Reitkunst 108) which becomes part of a viscious cycle: “[D]er Kreislauf der Dinge ist schon wieder geschlossen; es geht entweder Alles oder Nichts” (Reitkunst 116)–meaning either the horse or the rider determine the riding alone. This is not the case with Lerch-Brauner, whose movements indeed often drift from the ideal pace, rhythm and behaviour and cause loss of traction, but are still concatenated by Brauner’s “stummes Zerren” (RG: 42) and Lerch’s “Schenkeldruck” (RG: 44) throughout the story. The two companions share a “Machtsphäre” (Reitkunst 89) in equal parts. 138 In sum, the parts of riding in RG untangled above are about the culturalization of the species in their shared practice. This can be tracked in the ethological aspects of the horses put to work by humans, the techniques and tools used to connect the involved parties, the riding dyads and the earthy terrain, and the horse shoes and street surface. The horsemanship manual provides examples and explanations to analyze these threshold phenomena of riding in RG in a new context of CLAS and especially of CT theories. 3.2 Entangling – Riding3 3.2.1 Emerging Third: Ride + -ing = Reitend Both CS and CT can be considered emerging thirds in encounters of at least two different entities, be they humans, animals, artefacts or signs; they both enable the entangling they emanate from but are also unique and unlike the parties involved in it. RG features such emerging thirds in various themes and formal structures: passages and bypasses, as well as the unique medium status of riding and its grammatical implications. To begin with, RG is interveined with the theme of doors, gates and bridges, CT research’s most mentioned example of a cultural technique. There is the squadron’s ride through Milan’s “Stadttor” (RG: 41), the curious soldiers’ looks “hinter Haustor[e]” (RG: 40) and “dunklen Torbogen” (ibid.), and of course Lerch’s gaze through the “halb offene Zimmertür” (RG: 42) into Vuic’s room just to get sight of a well-disguised “Tapetentür” (RG: 41) in the background. Through it, a man the narrator describes as “ein Mittelding zwischen Geistlichem und pensioniertem Kammerdiener” (RG: 42) disappears. Riding alone through the abandoned village, Lerch looks into the run-down houses “zwischen bloßgelegten Türpfosten ins Innere” (RG: 43), the bloody skin of a calf is nailed to a doorpost (see RG: 44), two fighting rats roll out 139 “unter einer Türschwelle […] in die Mitte der Straße” (RG: 43p.), and a group of dogs tries to burry a bone “in der Mitte der Straße” (RG: 44). Doors, thresholds and medians bring insights and outlooks, bode half-truths and near-deaths.89 The same applies for the bridges in the text: the quest for the “Addabrücke” (RG: 43) and most evidently the Doppelgänger encounter on “einer alten einbogigen Steinbrücke” (RG: 45) bear moments of mediality and liminality. When Lerch’s Brauner steps on the bridge “mit dem gleichen weißgestiefelten Vorfuß” (ibid.) as its double on the other side, they enter a sphere of ghostly uncertainty and tangible involvement at the same time. The bridge spans between the self and the other, thus unsettling Lerch’s self. This is mainly caused by the sight of a horse of which he right away knows no second like it exists in the squadron, but only in the last second does he recognize himself in the other rider’s face. Lerch/Brauner meet another creature on the bridge, be it a mirror or a mirage, something new, something similar but different, in short: a third entitiy comes into being. Emerging thirds are not only found on the topological level of RG, but particularly in Lerch and Brauner’s interspecies companionship, and in their concatenated riding practice; the rider and the horse do not preexist their relating. The first naming of the sergeant in the text depicts him dismounting to detain prisoners: “Der Wachtmeister Anton Lerch saß ab” (RG: 39). Even if the mount is not mentioned explicitly, it is perfectly clear that Lerch rode on a horse as part of his professional duties as a soldier. Brauner is introduced later as his rider gets off his back to control his horse shoes. Furthermore, the companions’ riding manifests the materiality of 89 Del Caro elaborates the animating presence of thresholds, movements and crossing-over in Hofmannsthal’s writing. It is influenced by the transitions of the time around 1900 and illustrates that standing at the abyss also implies a Hinüberfließen (flowing across) between the worlds. Thus, death lives inside the self and gives a glimpse into life’s unity of the individual with everything else. Life and death are equally inexplicable (see 75pp.). 140 their common ground: whether the horse steps on a “Straßenstein” (RG: 41) or slips on “harte Steinplatten […], auf welchen noch dazu irgendein glitschriges Fett ausgegossen war” (RG: 43), the human feels the surface directly “unter sich” (ibid.), through the saddle as well as the horseshoes, and infers the according further operations–slow down or urge on–from their shared pace. Neither the man nor the mount act outside of each other’s presence or are uncoupled from their joint practice. Riding seems to be their medium of information exchange, their mode of movement, but even of existing in the world and experiencing it. Equitation is the technique with which the two specimens of two different species communicate with each other and co-constitute each other. Many grammatical formulations90–despite the predominant use of Lerch and the respective personal pronoun er as grammatical subjects–override exclusive human agency. Instead, some expressions integrate the two species by describing this newly emerging figure as a ‘rider’ who also has a Reiterperspektive. This unique unit of four sensitive hooves on the greasy ground, four nosy eyes scanning the surroundings, two outstretched hands to grasp opponents and other objects, and four cooperating nostrils, responds to others together and is regarded together, just in different ways: the old, unkempt woman “ging so dich vor dem Pferde, daß der Hauch aus den Nüstern den fettig glänzenden Lockenbund bewegte […] und wich dem Reiter nicht aus” (RG: 43), the she-dog “lief in blöder Hast vor dem Reiter hin und her” (RG: 44), and her puppies “schnappten lautlos mit ihrem weichen Maul nach den Fesseln des Pferdes” (ibid.). Every time Reiter is used it actually means the entity which emerges from a rider-horse-union. 90 Scholars have pointed out the “Verflechtung auktorialer und personaler Perspektive” (Mayer, “HvH” 11) in the narration, but missed the possible perspectives beyond the human ones. 141 Further linguistic forms associate Reiter and Pferd without assimilating them, namely through activity: they appear “zwischen zwei niedrigen, abgebröckelten Mauern reitend“ (RG: 45) or “einen nicht mehr frischen Schritt reitend” (RG: 42), and arise only “mit dem Durchreiten des widerwärtigen Dorfes” (RG: 45). German grammar allows for the verb reiten/’to ride’ to keep its stem and transform into the noun adjective das Reiten or present participle reitend/’riding’ and the phrasal verb durchreiten/’to ride though’ into the verbal noun or gerund das Durchreiten/’the riding through’. The corresponding English ‘-ing’ forms enhance the importance of ontic operations over ontological being, and emphasize the interdependent relating-in-action (and in syntax) that happens in the chains connecting the interspecies couple. It is in this emerging third practice of riding, which is created by the two and occurs between the two that Lerch and Brauner appear in the text world of RG. 3.2.2 World-Making: Riding Creates an Umwelt This subtle concept appears in CS and CT theories alike, seemingly as a strong implication of the core thought, even though not elaborated in-detail: everyday activities and especially interactivities generate worlds, realities and quasi-natural orders between enmeshed agents of all kinds. Riding, the cavalry’s everyday activity, is the central practice in this novella and contributes to world-making in three ways: spatial and temporal perception, as well as regarding a sense of realities. When the squadron crosses through the city of Milan during their campaign, their entrance is evidently characterized by the fact that they are cavalry, not infantry. The riding soldiers, escorted by bells and trumpets and embellished with blinking cuirasses and clinking tack trot right in the middle of traffic, “Straße rechts, Straße links” (RG: 40). Despite wearing 142 masks, they are able to see details of otherwise hidden things from their advantaged higher position, such as “erbleichende Gestalten hinter Haustoren verschwindend” (ibid.), “uralte Erztore alle sich auftuend und […] brokatgekleidete strahlenäugige Frauen hervorwinkend” (ibid.), and to hear “aus tausend Dachkammern, dunklen Torbogen, niedrigen Butiken Schüsse zu gewärtigen” (ibid.). Located between the “stählern funkelnden Himmel” (ibid.) and the low-built shops and dusty ground, the group looks over the cityscape “vom trabenden Pferde herab auf alles dies hervorblickend aus einer Larve von blutgesprengtem Staub” (RG: 40p.). The point of view is not narrating directly from the riders’ perspective on horseback but regards it from the outside. Riding as invaders through a captured city creates a particular world-view by looking down upon the people who act “wie ein aufgewühlter Ameishaufen” (RG: 40) and getting a blurry vision of “erbleichende Gestalten” (ibid.) while passing by. The riders have a certain elevation and an awareness of their environment, the space around and beneath them; riding materializes their own world and thus their status in the world. Lerch’s mission through the village is influenced by the fact that he and Brauner ride together, feel the surface of the up-and-down road as a team, and sense the setting’s and-then-and-then-and-then; this riding perspective is different than the one of a human or horse footing the place alone. The scene begins towards the evening–“gegen Abend” (RG: 43)–passes while daylight diminishes–“[im] rötlichen Sonnendunst des Abends” (RG: 44)–and ends after the skirmish while the sun is stll setting–“die in schwerem Dunst der untergehende Sonne [warf] eine ungeheure Röte über die Hutweide“ (RG: 46). The change from day to night is not a precise point in time, but a transition: evening can be considered a grammatical gerund and describes a liminal timespan. Interestingly, the different etymological developments of the root word ‘even’ imply both spatial and temporal qualities, which the German relative eben still shows, as it 143 means ‘level’ or ‘plain’ as well as ‘just now’–‘evening’ has its own place in time but only vague contours. This actually ties in with Lerch’s awareness of the ride taking an immeasurable amount of time: “[…] ihm war, als hätte er eine unmeßbare Zeit mit dem Durchreiten des widerwärtigen Dorfes verbracht” (RG: 45). This lostness in a liminal time period in an outlying village might also be caused by the indescribable experience of the ride and riding itself, which switches between speeding up to a gallop and slowing down due to the slippery surface conditions or other animals blocking the way: “[…] während er selbst […] die Straße durchzugaloppieren sich anschickte, bald aber, harte Steinplatten unter sich fühlend, auf welchen noch dazu irgendein glitschriges Fett ausgegossen war, sein Pferd in Schritt parieren mußte” (RG: 43) and then again “[er gab] dem Pferd beide Sporen und dröhnte über das Steinpflaster hin. Nach wenigen Sätzen aber mußte er das Pferd scharf parieren” (RG: 44). The fast-slow-fast-slow ride not only results in a “Nichtvorwärtskommen“ (RG: 45) but also remains as a “unbeschreibliche Schwere” (ibid.) in Brauner‘s gait. In equitation, the two enmeshed agents move through time and space differently than they would by themselves, since the rhythms of their constantly connecting activity make aware of the uneven materiality of the earthy street surface and the uncertain edges of the evening time span. Thus, an intersubjective world is created, in which a very mundane human-horse practice of Vorwärtskommen (forward-progressing) overlaps with the mundane terrestrial phenomenon of Sonnenuntergang (sun-setting) and its liminality and infinite looping. In moments when the temporal-spatial perception is overridden, riding contributes to creating a completely different reality. After leaving Milan and the former lover behind and following the squadron, Lerch rides with Brauner, slightly disconnected from the pack in an ungrounded position and an unclear perspective: “Seitwärts der Rottenkolonne, einen nicht mehr frischen Schritt reitend, unter der schweren metallischen Glut des Himmels, den Blick in der 144 mitwanderenden Staubwolke verfangen” (RG: 42). The companions appear to be hovering under the sky rather than treading on the earth, and their vision is clouded from the dust raised by the other riders: they move along in a bubble of their own umwelt. In this world generated and inhabited by the flesh and blood creatures involved in a Harawayan getting-on-together, Lerch rides and pictures himself in another place: “[…] verfangen, lebte sich der Wachtmeister immer mehr in das Zimmer […] hinein” (ibid.). He fantasizes about details of living with Vuic and her current lover, who he puts in the role of a friend, servant and petty criminal. But not only does he simultaneously move back in time to Vuic’s room he just saw in Milan and forward into his plan to be with her again in the future, he also fabricates a completely different reality: “eine Zivilatmosphäre” (ibid.). He dreams of a comfortable, well-off civilian life, while his military world as a soldier in war is characterized by hours of patrolling through nothingness. This process is deeply influenced and even institutionalized by riding: “Dem Streifkommando begegnete in den Nachmittagsstunden nichts Neues, und die Träumereien des Wachtmeisters erfuhren keine Hemmungen” (ibid.). The reason the rider can uninhibitedly muse is because Brauner trots along with the hungry, tired horses in the squadron, and the reason the animals trudge through the empty landscape is because the cavalrymen just sit in the saddles and do not ride with their horses. Instead of actively meeting each other and interacting, the companions momentarily only live in overlapping worlds which are still connected by their ongoing physical relating in the practice of riding. As shown above, it is possible to think of each human and nonhuman animal as CS that are and have their own worlds which intersect via interaction in RG. The narration furthermore proves that the interspecies CT of horse-riding is a practice that creates and overlaps the different 145 worlds through realities of perception and positioning. An example for that is the cavalry culture during war, which constitutes the natural order of things for Lerch and Brauner. 3.2.3 Earthiness: Riding Gives and Takes Bodenhaftung The notion of earthiness is explicitly mentioned in Haraway’s CS theory about mundane cross-species life, and is an implicit idea in the development of CT as a theoretical term dealing with soil-based techniques–my analysis considers both. Similarly, RG contains direct references to earth, ground and dirt in the everyday drill of cavalry and war life, as well as more intricate textures of earthiness and grounding as a motif or even an implied movement. First of all, the novella leads through a landscape91 which comprises various elements: flat, open range and faraway mountains (see RG: 39), groves and woods (see RG: 40, 45), agricultural fields (see RG: 45p.), streams (see RG: 46) and swamps (see RG: 47). The dusty, dirty earth below is contrasted with the light, luminous sky above: “gegen den leuchtenden Himmel” (RG: 39), “in den stählern funkelnden Himmel” (RG: 40), “unter der schweren metallischen Glut des Himmels” (RG: 42). Located in this “regungslos” (RG: 39) relationship of terrestrial and celestial tensions, the cavalry practices their mobile profession astraddle and therefore away from the ground and mostly oriented downwards. Activities include striking their enemies “vom Pferd herab” (RG: 46) or observing Milan “vom trabenden Pferde herab” (RG: 40p.). Looking over the faces of pedestrians and front gates along the streets as well as into attic windows, Lerch sees his former lover “am ebenerdigen Fenster” (RG: 41) maybe merely because he rides raised up on Brauner. The constant change of focus from above to below and 91 Preußer finds a connotation of the “Erdmutter Gaia” (56) in the ambivalent stillness of the described landscapes. 146 the accompanying bobbing movements not only create a dichotomy between earthy grounds and elevated spheres,92 but rather a dynamic that contributes to the up-and-down rhythm of riding. Second, there is the idea of grounding and down-to-earth-ness that interveins the narrative. The human protagonist Lerch and his companion Brauner explore this land- and cityscape as an equestrian dyad which affects their position to the world and to the earth in the mobile and downwards-directed ways shown above–sie er-reiten ihre Welt. In their riding Bodenhaftung, meaning their bond to the ground, is vital and alternatingly stronger or weaker, more or less rooted or distanced, depending on the technicalities of horse shoes and surface. It is in the streets of the city and in the abandoned village where they literally lose track and traction. Upon entering Milan with the squadron, Lerch feels Brauner take a few stiff steps and assumes that the horse treaded on a stone that got caught in its iron shoe: “er [vermutete] aus einigen steifen Tritten seines Pferdes […], es hätte in eines der vorderen Eisen einen Straßenstein eingetreten” (RG: 41). They ride halfway into a house’s hallway and the soldier dismounts to check the front hooves, but while doing so is distracted by his former lover93–the problematic horse shoe is not mentioned again. Galloping alone into the small town later that day, the layering of its hard stone surface streets, poured out greasy fat and smooth iron shoes make the companions slow down to a walk (see RG: 43). The equine’s steps become more troublesome as they continue, so that this time the equestrian checks the shoes on the rear hooves by turning around in the saddle. Again, there is no result of the inspection, since the narration sidetracks 92 Psychoanalytical interpreations remain in the static juxtaposition of “den irdischen Schönen und ihren himmlischen Gegenbildern” (Steinlein 212) in a patriarch realm of imagined femininity, without recognizing the locomotive powers of the practice. 93 De Haay describes how Lerch struggles between eros and logos, which is illustrated by his “erdgebunden[e] Existenz” (46) and rational professionalism on one side, and the concern for the phallic, injured horse foot as a means for “Erdbefruchtung” (50) on the other. 147 with the encounter of an old woman (ibid.). What or if something is stuck between hooves and horse shoes is never revealed. Nevertheless, both of these unclear situations make that Lerch-Brauner’s riding glides and hovers over the earth, partly in the air and thus becomes a liminal practice. The horse’s shoe is the artefact in the chain of operations which sustains the humanimal pair’s connection to the ground or separates them from it at the same time; it is a medium between human, animal and earth and a constituent of culture, domestication, dressage and road construction. A third aspect is the phenomenon of downward movements and the management of soil and surface in the story. Brauner’s iron-shod walking is particularly affected by the gravitational pull towards the earth on the ride through the village: “Sein Pferd ging schwer und schob die Hinterbeine mühsam unter, wie wenn sie von Blei wären” (ibid.), “Der Braun konnte keinen Schritt mehr tun” (RG: 44), “in der Gangart seines Pferde [war] eine so unbeschreibliche Schwere, ein solches Nichtvorwärtskommen” (RG: 45). Connected to each other, the horse is heavy-hoofed and its horseman is heavy-hearted when the pair suddenly speeds up together during a surprising skirmish once outside the village: the couple suddenly “dröhnte über das Steinpflaster dahin” (RG: 44) and goes “im stärksten Galopp eine Erdwelle hinansetzend […] auf dröhnendem Boden” (RG: 45). After the brutal, chaotic war scene in which CT such as weapons take over and the soldier and his steed kill an enemy to capture his horse, it is further on not only human signs that give the winners orientation, but a CS trail that brings them back on track: “Auch an solchen Stellen, wo gar keine Hufspuren waren, schienen ganze Lachen von Blut zu stehen” (RG: 46; my emphasis). The narration ends with the sergeant being shot to the ground by his supervisor, literally being unhorsed, sinking below horse-back level and falling 148 aground between his mount and his equine booty, “zwischen dem Braun und dem Eisenschimmel zu Boden” (RG: 48). Killed like an animal, Lerch descends into the realm of critters such as millipedes and woodlice (see RG: 45), rats and stray dogs, and lands between his Reitpferd and his Handpferd.94 Earlier, the ground-dwelling rodents spook Brauner with their screeching, so “daß das Pferd des Wachtmeisters sich verhielt und […] gegen den Boden stierte” (RG: 44), and the canines equally disturb their riding from down below: “die beiden jungen [Hunde] schnappten lautlos mit ihrem weichen Maul nach den Fesseln des Pferdes, und das Windspiel schleppte seinen entsetzlichen Leib hart vor den Hufen” (RG: 44). One of the dogs, a female, “ließ einen Knochen in der Mitte der Straße fallen und versuchte ihn in einer Fuge des Pflasters zu verscharren [...] mit teuflischer Hingabe scharrte sie, packte dann den Knochen mit den Zähnen und trug ihn ein Stück weiter“ (ibid.). She fails to bury her bone in the seams between the cobbled pavement since she cannot reach the earth. Similarly, the “zwei Ackergäul[e]” (RG: 40) captured by the troop on the way to Milan, who in war times pull a howitzer instead of a plough, no longer manage soil; after losing their value as loot, the Austrian soldiers chase away “die nunmehr überflüssigen beiden Zuggäule” (RG: 47). These examples exhibit a tense relationship to the ground walked on and worked with, with its inhabitants and interferences. Yet, they simultaneously show the urge to ground oneself through different procedures and the orientation towards the ground as a source of order. RG lacks a logic or semantic system of humans, animals and machines created through the agricultural work of processing soil to produce crops. Therefore, the CS practice of horse- 94 Heimrath‘s interpretation of Lerch’s location after the incredible incident, the Zwischenfall, is that it is the rider’s fate to be torn between military order and personal drives: “Zwischenraum als Schicksal” (317). Similarly, Rieder interprets Lerch’s struggle to be stuck in the irreal “Zwischenbrereich” (322) between life and death. 149 riding proves to be a highly organizing CT: it generates the distinction between being grounded or not, being connected with the soil or not, being earthed or not, and with these distinctions infinite further ones. Walk, trot or gallop, shying or sliding constitute the riding dyad’s pace over the cultivated surface and land, which in return determine the speed and hovering poise of the companion riders. Equine and equestrians navigate the ever-changing nature and environment, and thus configure their relation to each other in a certain rhythm by combining their rhythms in a liminal sphere reaching from being grounded to being elevated. 150 4. Theodor Storm’s Der Schimmelreiter (1888) 4.1 Analyzing – Riding, Riding, Riding 4.1.1 Companion Species 22.214.171.124 Figures: Hauke/Schimmel Figures are one of Haraway’s most productive notions for literary analysis, since they point out how different kinds of entities enmesh with others and create contact zones. In Der Schimmelreiter95 many figures appear in the text and form a mixture of contact zones. There are three moments of figuration in the novella to be examined closer: the monsters of the mudflats, the dike as a CS creation and the central characters Schimmel and Hauke. First of all, the monstrous and simultaneously mundane meaning of Haraway’s figures comes to mind in several episodes about sea devils, sea birds and fish throughout the story. As a boy Hauke hears gossip about drowned people whose bodies were found on the frozen tidal flats during winter ebbs. A woman describes them as deviating from human looks: “’Glaubt nicht, daß sie wie Menschen aussahen’, rief sie; ‘nein, wie die Seeteufel! So große Köpfe’ […] ‘Und die Krabben hatten sie angeknabbert’” (SR: 20). Curiously searching for more corpses, Hauke observes other creatures on the mudflats: Hauke blieb oben auf dem Deiche stehen, und seine scharfen Augen schweiften weit umher; aber von Toten war nichts mehr zu sehen; nur wo die unsichtbaren Wattströme sich darunter drängten, hob und senkte die Eisfläche sich in stromartigen Linien. [...] Auf jenen Stellen war jetzt das Eis gespalten; wie Rauchwolken stieg es aus den Rissen [...] Hauke sah mit starren Augen darauf hin; denn in dem Nebel schritten dunkle Gestalten auf und ab, sie schienen ihm so groß wie 95 All the following quotes are from Eversberg’s historical-critical edition of Der Schimmelreiter (HKE 13-95) and will use the scribal SR. 151 Menschen. Würdevoll, aber mit seltsamen, erschreckenden Gebärden; mit langen Nasen und Hälsen sah er sie fern an den rauchenden Spalten auf und ab spazieren; plötzlich begannen die Narren unheimlich auf und ab zu springen, die großen über die kleinen und die kleinen gegen die großen; dann breiteten sie sich aus und verloren alle Form. [...]’Hoiho!‘ schrie er laut in die Nacht hinaus; aber die draußen kehrten sich nicht an seinen Schrei, sondern trieben ihr wunderliches Wesen fort. (SR: 21; my emphasis) The figures remind him of the “Seegespenster“ (ibid.) with seaweed faces an old captain told him about. Years and pages later, Hauke’s daughter Wienke hears similar anecdotes from Trin’ Jans about a “Wasserweib” (SR: 78) or “Wasserfrau” (SR: 79), a screeching woman with shiny silver fish hands and arms, and other “Creaturen” (SR: 78) or “Undinger” (SR: 79) who appear during low tide. Hauke takes his daughter to the dike himself to show her the same “possenhafte[s] Unwesen” (SR: 21) he sees as a child: [A]us den Spalten stiegen wie damals die rauchenden Nebel, und daran entlang waren wiederum die unheimlichen närrischen Gestalten und hüpften gegeneinander und dienerten und dehnten sich plötzlich schreckhaft in die Breite. Das Kind klammerte sich angstvoll an seinen Vater und deckte dessen Hand über sein Gesichtlein: ’Die Seeteufel!‘ raunte es zitternd zwischen seine Finger; ’die Seeteufel.‘ Er schüttelte den Kopf: ’Nein, Wienke, weder Wasserweiber noch Seeteufel; so etwas gibt es nicht [...] Sieh nur wieder hin!‘ sagte er, ’das sind nur arme hungrige Vögel! Sieh nur, wie jetzt der große seine Flügel breitet; die holen sich die Fische, die in die rauchenden Spalten kommen.‘ (SR: 79; my emphasis) The protagonist explains the visions to his child by exposing their material-semiotic make up. The flesh and blood human and nonhuman animals intermix with signs of danger and death in the liminal zone of the coast during low tide, thus forming scary figures. Similar to how their bodies blend with each other and create hybrid beings, shifting from invisible to visible, from dead to alive, just to stagger in between the two poles of the scale, the meanings merge as well: 152 they are not real or fictional, but real and fictional. When Hauke questions Trin’ Jans, who first says she saw the Wasserweib herself but later adds that she heard the tale from her uncle, the old woman finally replies: “’Das ist egal’” (ibid.). It does not matter whether the creature is invented or witnessed, imagined or remembered. This demonstrates the Harawayan concept of figures as combining the literary and biological domains, and plays with the dimensions of sign and flesh, fiction and fact.96 SR is a multi-layered novella, as is apparent in the first Seegespenster episode when the old schoolmaster narrates Hauke’s childhood experience on the mudflats and already foreshadows the exact moment the protagonist and Wienke share later in the story: Erst viele Jahre später hat er sein blödes Mädchen, womit später der Herrgott ihn belastete, um dieselbe Tages- und Jahreszeit mit sich auf den Deich hinausgenommen, und dasselbe Wesen soll sich derzeit draußen auf den Watten gezeigt haben; aber er hat ihr gesagt, sie solle sich nicht fürchten, das seien nur die Fischreiher und die Krähen, die im Nebel so groß und fürchterlich erschienen; die holten sich die Fische aus den offenen Spalten. (SR: 21) Interestingly, the schoolmaster interrupts his storytelling after this and inserts his defensive statement: “es gibt auf Erden allerlei Dinge, die ein ehrlich Christenherz verwirren können” (ibid.). This relativizes the ethological explanation of the birds catching fish in the crevasses of the frozen low water to rather be a question of belief, especially for contemporary readers or listeners. Hauke, however, closes his remarks about the alleged monsters with a very Harawayan comment: “[D]as Alles ist lebig, so wie wir” (SR: 79). Everything is alive, animated, or even animal, just like we are. 96 Kittstein gives another reading of Trin’ Jans defiant declaration: he explains how it is only scandalous in the light of a rational perspective, while it is valid within superstitious thinking. Truth is based on collective knowledge which combines everything that is said, heard or seen, rendering the channels of the story “’gleich-gültig’” (285). Figures such as the Wasserfrau therefore mediate a certain view on the world, and serve as “Werkzeuge der Sinngebung” (ibid.). 153 Following the notion that every body and every thing are animated leads to the second item of analysis: the dike as a figure, or rather–since it is constantly being constructed and deconstructed–a figuration. As a material shape or mathematical calculation it is formed and forming through the rhythm of the tide, the earthy matter, the human workers and their tools, the dike master’s plan, and nonhuman animals in ongoing encounters. From the beginning, Hauke’s ideas about building the dike are mostly concerned with its innovative shape, a gradual rise instead of a steep edge on the upstream face. As a boy, he simply stares at the old dike and draws an imaginative line in the air97 to give it a smoother drop (see SR: 19), or builds models out of marine clay (see SR: 20). His father notices that his son cannot be distracted from his “Denkarbeit” (SR: 19) with “Deicharbeit” (ibid.). This continues during Hauke’s service for the dike master, who assigns him digging work out in the fields as well as counting and writing jobs in the office (see SR: 29). Dikes and the whole economy by the coast are a matter of physical labour as well as planning, timing and calculation. In the end, however, Hauke replies to his daughter’s question regarding protection from the water that it is not his, but the dike’s prowess: “’Du kannst das doch! Kannst du nicht Alles?‘ [...] ’Nicht ich kann das, Kind […] aber der Deich auf dem wir reiten, der schützt uns, und den hat dein Vater ausgedacht und bauen lassen‘“ (SR: 76p.). The workers who use spades, shovels and carts, dig soil and sand, cover the construction with paths (see SR: 23), sluices and floodgates (see SR: 51), straw and sods (see SR: 65), and repair it after its completion (see SR: 72), are further participants in the dike’s figuration. The descriptions of the Deicharbeit sound like an industrious swarm of workers in full swing: “[U]nd von allen Seiten regte es sich aufs Neue und mit allen Armen” (SR: 72). 97 Hamilton rightly calls this an “Unterscheidungsgeste” (168) with which Hauke distinguishes between phantasy and actualized projects, and compares it to what authors and narrators do in the process of writing realist prose. Cultural productivity here seems similar to the way CT function as mediums of distinction. 154 Besides human ideas and instruments, there are nonhuman factors in the dike’s figuring. Sheep and cattle graze around it and birds circle above it almost every time the dike is mentioned in the text. Even if Hauke prevents the literal incorporating of a living puppy into the dam to stabilize it according to superstition (see SR: 71p.), there are in fact animals inside it, who weaken the construction: rodents. After a heavy storm that tears off the topping he discovers “ein Gewirr von Mäusegängen” (SR: 80) interveining the material and eroding the earth mound from within. This “Mäusewirthschaft” (SR: 83) does more damage to the dike than the water or storm, and far more than the farmers Vollina and Ole Peters do when they ride their heavy carthorse along the slant of the dike walls and wear off the protective surface (see SR: 30, 40). Equitation is only harmless for the dike when it happens on the top, which has a trail that is frequented by the story’s main figures. Hauke and Schimmel, the third and ultimate figuration in SR, first meet on the old dike, where the new dike master spontaneously buys the decrepit animal from a vagabond vendor for a decent price. Hauke accepts the deal, because he sees that Schimmel is only four years old and just neglected, but also because he looks at him as if pleading for rescue (see SR: 85p.). After nursing the horse back to health, the dike master saddles it and they go for their first ride: Bald auch, wenn das Pferd im Stall nur seine Schritte hörte, warf es den Kopf herum und wieherte ihm entgegen […] Dann führte er es aus dem Stall und legte ihm einen leichten Sattel auf; aber kaum saß er droben, so fuhr dem Thier ein Wiehern wie ein Lustschrei aus der Kehle; es flog mit ihm davon, die Werfte hinab auf den Weg und dann dem Deiche zu; doch der Reiter saß fest, und als sie droben waren, ging es ruhiger, leicht, wie tanzend, und warf den Kopf dem Meere zu. Er klopfte und streichelte ihm den blanken Hals; aber es bedurfte dieser Liebkosung schon nicht mehr; das Pferd schien völlig eins mit seinem Reiter, und, nachdem er eine Strecke nordwärts 155 den Deich hinausgeritten war, wandte er es leicht und gelangte wieder an die Hofstatt. (59p.; my emphasis) This passage evokes the Harawayan idea of a dance of beings in encounter; in addition, it is representative of the riding following in the story. There are moments of mutual motion, when it is not clear who moves (with) whom: “Der Schimmel drängte vorwärts und schnob und schlug mit den Vorderhufen; aber der Reiter drückte ihn zurück, er wollte langsam reiten” (81). Their power play makes them both subjects and objects, shaping each other in their shared practice. The use of tack and tools, such as the saddle highlighted above, spurs (see SR: 66, 71, 73, 81, 90, 94) and reins (see SR: 66, 71, 76, 88) adds further material layers to this interspecies activity. Thus the human-equine dyad constantly connects with other agents and expands beyond a double dimension.98 Moreover, the Schimmelreiter is located in their own equestrian world, and therefore aware of the ocean on one side and the land on the other, or the earthy, wet surface below them (“[D]er nasse, saugende Klei schien gleichwohl die Hufe des Thieres nicht zu halten, es war, als hätte er festen Sommerboden unter sich”, SR: 89). Finally, the horse-rider union becomes a meaning-making team, as can also be seen in a ride through a rough storm: no matter the circumstances, context or weather, “Roß und Reiter wußten, wo sie ritten” (SR: 90). 98 Römhild remains within the notions of duality and unity throughout her analysis: she speaks of Hauke as a “janusköpfig[e] Figur“ (58) with an ambivalent relation to humans, nonhumans and nature, and of Schimmel’s “Ambivalenzcharakter” (54) and “Doppelgestalt” (ibid.) of good and evil as referenced in mythology. She eventually refines these contradictions in favour of the hybrid’s complexities (see 59). The Schimmelreiter then is “gedoppel[t] und zugleich doppeldeuti[g]“ (59), a “schillernde Kippfigur zwischen Phantastik und Realismus” (51), as well as a successfully coalesced “Ross-und-Reiter-Symbios[e]“ (55) similar to a centaur–which she yet again considers an ambivalent figure. Fluctuating between these dualities and unities ultimately illustrates that these entanglements are multi-layered. 156 The partners do not precede the practice in horse-riding,99 since neither can ride without the other. The result is an unprecedented ‘we’, or in Hauke and Schimmel’s narrated case a ‘they’: the Schimmelreiter themselves. Understanding this figuration of horse, human, tack and terrain as a pluralistic endeavour and focusing on riding as a practice of entangling is pivotal. The title100 as well as the first naming of the figure within the novella (see SR: 16) introduce a character, a famous person, a symbol. But before the framing narrator knows the name, he just describes a “dunkle Gestalt” (SR: 15) who silently gallops closer, swiftly passes and disappears.101 This Deichgespenst102 is the Schimmelreiter who plunges into the flood at the end of the embedded narrative about Hauke and his unearthly “Teufelspferd” (SR: 61, 68). This figure reappears several times in the insertions of the frame narrative and creates loops in the figuration of the silent ghost, the partly invisible revenant, the immaterial Wiedergänger, or rather Wiederreiter. In the middle of the story, when the workers call the dikemaster and his horse Schimmelreiter (see SR: 65), they describe actual bodies, merged and in motion within a symbiotic relation. The word/body compound is a construction103 as well, a Gebilde, consisting of at least two components, both formerly solitary rebels: a white horse and a rider. While the 99 Römhild states: “Schimmel und Reiter jedenfalls entfalten in ihrer Beziehung auf Gegenseitigkeit erst ihr außergewöhnliches Potenzial“ (62), which culminates in their joint dying and becoming an immortal legend. 100 Hamilton calls the compound of the title figure “auffallend ikonisch” (168), saying: “[I]n der Figur des Schimmels kristallisieren sich die seltsamsten Aspekte der Geschichte heraus: eine Unheimlichkeit, die geritten, das heißt, die in eine sinnvolle und zweckvolle Richtung domestiziert werden muss” (ibid.). He compares Schimmel’s development from a skeleton on an island, into a run-down nag, into a beautiful stallion, to Storm’s literary production during which he tames a scary saga into a realistic novella. 101 This zooming in and out of the Gestalt is another example for how it is not the actual figure that is uncanny, but how the unstable act of perception evokes eeriness (see Strowick 103). 102 Laage tracks the blurring of the borders between ghostly Gestalt and realistic Pferd und Reiter, but remains on the level of the Gespenstergeschichte genre and the superhuman: “Die Rolle des Deichgespenstes und des ‘Teufelspferd[es]’ besteht im Wesentlichen darin, das Werk und die–sonst ganz und gar realistische–Gestalt des Deichgrafen ins ‘Über-Menschliche’ zu erheben” (“Deichgespenst” 46). 103 There is cultural construction of a larger context in SR: Kittstein explains how the threefold narrative frame of the novella exposes that “jedes Erzählen im Schimmelreiter lediglich eine perspektivische Konstruktion von Wirklichkeit schafft” (286), and that superstitious and enlightened interpretations of the dike are both mediated reality. Altogether, SR prompts the reader to think of narration “als Instrument menschlicher Weltaneignung” (288). 157 horse never has a proper name, Hauke’s name resolves in the union of the Schimmelreiter figure. Finally, their riding is what combines them in the core, and moving around the dike creates the choreography or texture of this figuration, which can readily be imagined as a maze of hoof prints on mud, a roar of waves and whinnies, tangled together with reins and stirrups. The equitation in SR does not only break species borders and build hybrid beings, but also touches on the liminalities of location as well as life. Placed in-between ocean and land, the dike as a riding trail is a phenomena and practice of (non)human creation and of a Lebenswelt of its own. Schimmel is supposedly the live version of a horse skeleton ghost Hauke’s stable boys spot on a Hallig nearby before their master buys the new steed (see SR: 54pp.). He therefore displays a scale of life and death and gradually sways between its poles, from seeming very “beweglich” (SR: 55) when observed in the moonlight to standing “unbeweglich” (SR: 60) once obeying his rider. This spirited horse is not simply alive, but animated: “Wenn je ein Pferd ein lebig’s war, so ist es der!” (SR: 60p.) Interestingly, the dike master also stands “nah’ am Rande der Grube” (SR: 80) on the verge of death and spends months in bed sick with “Marschfieber” (ibid.); when he recovers, he is “kaum derselbe Mann” (ibid.). Hybrid creatures such as sea monsters and constructions such as the earthy dike are the animated figures and figurations in SR. They are characterized by all the force and fierceness of real-life and all the possibilities of text and terra. Most prominently it is the Schimmelreiter figure itself floating above the grounds along the liminal coastal edge, on the muddy trails, in the literary narrative, as well as in the historical world. Especially by riding, Hauke/Schimmel fold and unfold different meanings in different environments and thus figure as CS. 158 126.96.36.199 Contact Zones: Hauke/Sporenstich/Schimmel Contact zones are a concept which the CS approach borrows from various fields, but redefines with regard to human-animal relating and to connection between species and other subjects. Focusing on these points in the entangling figures adds a deeper layer to the analysis above. In SR, there are two such specific zones: the humans’, animals’ and artefacts’ contacts with each other and with the dike’s surface, and the human contact with the horse during riding. First, the dike figure features contact zones where the construction ‘becomes with’ its constructors, blending many individuals together in a Harawayan multispecies and multimaterial ‘open’ extended to ecological spheres. Planning the construction, many kinds of earth and tools are collected, such as soil, sand, marine clay and straw, as well as thill carts and spades, so that not only dike workers but also farmers and cartwrights are part of the process (see SR: 63). The action-packed execution of Hauke’s dike design into practice is abound with contact zones: Endlich, als schon die Pfingstglocken durch das Land läuteten, hatte die Arbeit begonnen: unablässig fuhren die Sturzkarren von dem Vorlande an die Deichlinie, um den geholten Klei dort abzustürzen, und gleicherweise war dieselbe Anzahl schon wieder auf der Rückfahrt, um auf dem Vorland neuen aufzuladen; an der Deichlinie selber standen Männer mit Schaufeln und Spaten, um das Abgeworfene an seinen Platz zu bringen und zu ebnen; ungeheuere Fuder Stroh wurden angefahren und abgeladen; nicht nur zur Bedeckung des leichteren Materials, wie Sand und lose Erde, dessen man an den Binnenseiten sich bediente, wurde das Stroh benutzt; allmählich wurden einzelne Strecken des Deiches fertig, und die Grassoden, womit man sie belegt hatte, wurden stellenweise zum Schutz gegen die nagenden Wellen mit fester Strohbestickung überzogen. […] [D]azwischen ritt der Deichgraf auf seinem Schimmel, den er jetzt ausschließlich in Gebrauch hatte, und das Thier flog mit dem Reiter hin und wider, wenn er rasch und trocken seine Anordnungen machte[.] (SR: 65; my emphasis) 159 Workers piling up the earth and putting layers upon layers of insulation also interact with the materials and either inject meaning into the dike or extract it. Hauke’s orders, some hostile and some friendly are inwrought and literally incorporated in the figure through the contact of tools during the repairs or the first big rainstorm: Durch das Geklatsch des Regens und das Brausen des Windes klangen von Zeit zu Zeit die scharfen Befehlsworte des Deichgrafen, der heute hier allein gebieten wollte; er rief die Karren nach den Nummern vor und wies die Drängenden zurück; ein ’Halt!‘ scholl von seinem Munde, dann ruhte unten die Arbeit; ’Stroh! ein Fuder Stroh hinab!‘ rief er denen droben zu, und von einem der oben haltenden Fuder stürzte es auf den nassen Klei hinunter. Unten sprangen Männer dazwischen und zerrten es auseinander und schrieen nach oben, sie nur nicht zu begraben. Und wieder kamen neue Karren, und Hauke war schon wieder oben und sah von seinem Schimmel in die Schlucht hinab und wie sie dort schaufelten und stürzten[.] (SR: 70; my emphasis) The entangled subjects and objects change with the construction, enmeshing naturalcultural and personal layers. Especially Hauke’s network of assistance and opposition exemplifies the material-symbolic exchange with a very concrete physical contact zone: the pat on the shoulder.104 After his old supporter Jewe Manners passes away, the struggle against critics becomes more strained and “anstatt der ermuthigenden Worte und der dazugehörigen zuthunlichen Schläge auf seine linke Schulter, die er so oft von dem alten Pathen seines Weibes eincassirt hatte, kamen ihm jetzt von dem Nachfolger ein heimliches Widerhalten und unnöthige Einwände“ (SR: 69). Pats on the shoulder paired with advice encourage the dike master (see SR: 71), motivate the labourers (see SR: 72) and thus connect the humans with each other, with the 104 Forssell points out that in the context of conventional body language Schulterklopfen is categorized as a gesture of dominance and territorial claim, but is connoted with benevolence and protection in SR (see 77). Pats on the shoulder contribute to Hauke’s role as a leader who not only has technical competence, but shows social skills. The space, distance and proximity between humans are considered indicators for their relationships of power, affection and aversion; however, the productivity of this liminal zone is not applied to the nonhumans in the text (see 74f.). 160 manual working process and with the earthy product. Once the storm damage is repaired the new dike is ready to perform: “Und am andern Tage wurde der letzte Spatenstich am neuen Deiche getan” (SR: 72; my emphasis). However, the cutting and delving of spades are never finished in the figuration dike, and this particular tool even comes in contact with Schimmel during the final flood. When the dike master charges into the crowd, one worker strikes the shovel at the horse, “aber ein Hufschlag schleuderte ihm den Spaten aus der Hand” (SR: 91; my emphasis). The contact zones of Spatenstich and Hufschlag, of human worker and rider, horse, tool and technique overlap on the dike figure. As Hauke and Schimmel ride up the inland side of the dam, they step hard on the grass that is growing through the straw Bestickung (see SR: 83). This old German term, which literally means ‘embroidery’, is used for the strengthening layer of straw on the dam and vividly illustrates the multimaterial entanglements. The Schimmelreiter’s enmeshing with the dike’s surface via hooves on soil is ongoing but changing, in a connected but distinct process. Even when galloping along the rain-wet path on absorptive mud, the horse’s feet fly over the ground so that the rider can concentrate on the storm rushing over the endangered, newly gained piece of land, the Hauke-Haien-Koog (see SR: 89). The second example for contact zones in SR is the eponymous character, in which human and animal are not abstract entities, but concrete partners in a specific setting and relation: the Schimmelreiter figure consists of numerous contact zones. This composite creature overcomes Western humanist personhood and constitutes a relationship of Harawayan significant otherness which involves play, power and communication–all three of these instances occur in Hauke and Schimmel’s equitation in the text. From the first moment the two seem to merge, and the use of a simple, light saddle (see SR: 59) and thin, non-tear-resistant reins (see SR: 88) contributes further to the close physical and locomotive contact between rider and steed. Schimmel is 161 described to scream with joy as soon as Hauke mounts him: “[A]ber kaum saß er droben, so fuhr dem Thier ein Wiehern wie ein Lustschrei aus der Kehle” (SR: 59). Another expression of the animal’s playfulness is the extension of its front hooves into the air in moments of excitement (see SR: 81, 88, 90), such as showing off to the stable staff on their first ride or impressing the labourers on their ride through the thunderstorm. This rearing up is aimless and arbitrary, since it serves no purpose in the patrol-riding practice of the dike master along the dam, but brings the equine and equestrian beings together in a function-free ‘open’: they are neither two, nor one, but a new creature, namely a six-legged quadruped, temporarily gone biped. Concerning their communication, the Schimmelreiter does not rely on human language. The rider commands the horse voiceless (“dann wandte er stumm sein Pferd”, SR: 92) or spontaneous and based on instinct (“Unwillkürlich riß er das Pferd zurück”, SR: 93), and the horse connects to his human rider via gaze (“das Thier […] sah mich aus seinen blöden Augen an”, SR: 58; “d[ie] schönen Augen des Thieres, die es, wie gewöhnlich, auf seinen Herrn gerichtet hielt”, SR: 66). The dyad communicates face-to-face and flesh-to-flesh in uncharted, material-semiotic modes with no need for meta-communication. Instead, their mood and movements, even their arousal and heart rate intertwine and attune to each other in so-called isopraxis. An example for this attunement happens during a ride when it is discovered that the unfinished new dike and the inferior old dike are prone to storm damage: Der Schimmel drängte vorwärts und schnob und schlug mit den Vorderhufen; aber der Reiter drückte ihn zurück, er wollte langsam reiten, er wollte auch die innere Unruhe bändigen, die immer wilder in ihm aufgohr. [...] Ein heißer Schauer überrieselte den Reiter [...] Hauke fühlte sein Herz still stehen, sein sonst so fester Kopf schwindelte[.] (SR: 81) 162 Whereas it is ambiguous who affects whom, the direction is clear with regard to the power relationship, at least at first sight. Even though they use light tack, there is one tool that manifests human might over the horse: Hauke’s spurs. He applies them frequently to urge Schimmel on in stressful situations. Thus, a contact zone is created, which takes on its own authority and even turns into a grammatical subject: “Ein Sporenstich fuhr in die Weichen des Schimmels, und einen Schrei ausstoßend, flog er auf dem Deich entlang und dann den Akt hinab, der deichgräflichen Werfte zu” (SR: 81; my emphasis). This culminates in the dyad’s death at the end of the narration (“Noch ein Sporenstich; ein Schrei des Schimmels […] dann unten aus dem hinabstürzenden Strom ein dumpfer Schall, ein kurzer Kampf”, SR: 94; my emphasis). The brutal contact becomes a compound of tool and technique, connecting human feet with equine flanks in an asymmetrical power relation where the partners are altered but not in the same way, joint but not identic, and ultimately even separated. The complexities of power/play between the two different kinds come into being via movements and materials, and liberate something, someone or ‘somekind’ of new that never existed before and lies outside of logic functionality. This figure acts unexpectedly, in constantly changing constellations and conditions, and swerves on a scale from control and constraint to natural, free impulsiveness. These contact zones, the pats on the shoulders or beats of the hooves, yet especially both the Spatenstich during dike construction and the Sporenstich during riding, are compounded in the liminal area of specific kinds, matter and significance which is typical for CS. They entangle all involved partners in uncharted, open-ended relatings and thus add layers of flesh and sign, particularly to the Schimmelreiter figure and the figurations of reiten in SR. 163 188.8.131.52 Equitation Science: Hauke/Schrei/Schimmel In the context of Critical Animal Studies, ES’s emphasis on the interaction between human and horse, their close contact while riding and the welfare implications of equestrianism breaks new grounds and abandons old rules in the assessment of the rider/mount dyad. Therefore, this approach fits into a multidisciplinary CLAS analysis of equitation in SR, which explains the cultural-technical entanglements within horse-riding as portrayed in the text. These features are in focus, while understanding and accepting that certain qualities of the horse-rider-connection “are impossible to identify or measure” (ES 28), but “may very well [be] sense[d]” (ibid.) in- and outside of dressage routines. This is reminiscent of the core insights of CS about thoroughly embracing problematic phenomena as productive. Consequently, the emphasis lies on Schimmel and his individual “equine temperaments” (ES 21) consisting of compliance, trainability and especially “emotionality” (ES 22), as previous research on SR missed this perspective due to its emphasis on Hauke’s–and in general human–characters. There are two aspects in Hauke and Schimmel’s riding that are applicable for an interpretation with selected ES ideas because of how frequently and forceful they appear: the equestrian challenges of the work context during dam construction and the instants of rearing and screaming during the patrol rides on the dike. First, the dike construction is considered a key aspect of the novella. It begins with Hauke’s purchase of Schimmel on the day his project is permitted (see SR: 57pp.) and proceeds until the end of the nested story narrated by the schoolmaster (see SR: 94); it also involves many human and nonhuman animals, a multitude of earthy materials and technical tools. Shifting to the position of the dike master’s horse during the building process, there are several outstanding behaviours, such as the fact that no one else can ride Schimmel besides Hauke: 164 Der Schimmel schüttelte den Kopf und wieherte laut in die sonnige Marschlandschaft hinaus, während ihm der Knecht den Sattel abschnallte und der Junge damit zur Geschirrkammer lief; dann legte er den Kopf auf seines Herrn Schulter und duldete behaglich dessen Liebkosung. Als aber der Knecht sich jetzt auf seinen Rücken schwingen wollte, sprang er mit einem jähen Satz zur Seite und stand dann wieder unbeweglich, die schönen Augen auf seinen Herrn gerichtet. ‘Hoho, Iven‘, rief dieser, ‘hat er Dir Leids getan?‘ und suchte seinem Knecht vom Boden aufzuhelfen. Der rieb sich eifrig an der Hüfte: ‘Nein, Herr, es geht noch; aber den Schimmel reit‘ der Teufel!‘ ‘Und ich!’ setzte Hauke lachend hinzu. (SR: 60) Only his master can mount the horse, which seals their relation–but also renders the animal as virtually unrideable. This conduct is caused by equines being, first, “inherently cautious of new stimuli (neophobia)” (ES 23), and second, “easily and inadvertently influenced by humans nearby” (ES 14). The boy never tended to Schimmel before and might transfer his nervousness about the “Teufelspferd” (SR: 61, 68) rumours onto the animal. Mainly though, the crux of riding and thus the core of ES is that horses are arguably not even “evolve[d] to carry people” (ES 30). Two approaches, one considering humans to be conspecifics, the other considering them to be predators from the equine perspective, arrive at the same result: neither fellows nor attackers mount and ride horses as humans do, meaning that any form of equitation is strictly human and runs counter to the animals’ ethology (see ES 25p.). This makes riding a truly special CS practice, starting with the physical implications for the equine partner: “Like all sentient animals, the horse does whatever it can to reduce pain and discomfort. This underpins the basic responses of the ridden horse but equally explains the importance of pathologies in the emergence of behavioural responses that can cause problems” (ES 23). Continuing with further ethological interventions, two factors stand out: “Riding brings both social and environmental challenges and is a useful example of the way we overcome and 165 suppress horses’ adaptive responses and thus ignore their preferences” (ES 24; my emphasis). Schimmel is Hauke’s only horse (see SR: 65, 79) after his brown gelding, (see SR: 63) is retired from riding and put before Elke’s cart as a draught (see SR: 73). Surely, this lack of conspecifics in the stable and when riding solo patrols–unlike police horses who always work in pairs (see ES 175)–does damage to the crucial sociality of the herd animal horse who has the constant urge to synchronize behaviors with others of its kind. Furthermore, the dike presents numerous environmental disruptions for the horse, especially during the busy construction. Many challenges named by ES (see ES 24p.) are mentioned in SR. Activities such as: leaving the home range, which Hauke/Schimmel do daily since the dam is outside of the village; deviating from obvious tracks, such as on the shortcuts over the inland side they take in emergencies; traversing obstacles instead of avoiding them, for example the piles of straw and soil they face during repairs. Two very intense challenges are included in their patrol rides during the storm flood, namely approaching an erratically moving and sounding object like the rough sea, and maintaining speed while travelling across uneven terrain, or downhill on and off the dike, inducing literal run-on scenes like the following: Eine furchtbare Böe kam brüllend vom Meer herüber, und ihr entgegen stürmten Roß und Reiter den schmalen Akt zum Deich hinan. Als sie oben waren, stoppte Hauke mit Gewalt sein Pferd. Aber wo war das Meer? Wo Jeverssand? Wo blieb das Ufer drüben? - - Nur Berge von Wasser sah er vor sich [...] es war ja Sturmfluth [...] er ritt ein Stück hinaus, aber er blieb allein [...] Er wandte das Pferd zurück [...] Und schon saßen seine Sporen dem Schimmel in die Weichen, und das Thier flog mit ihm dahin; der Sturm kam von der Breitseite; mitunter drängten die Böen so gewaltig, daß sie fast vom Deiche in den neuen Koog hinabgeschleudert wären [...] Hauke maaß mit seinen raschen Augen die gegrabene Rinne und den Stand des Wassers, das, trotz des neuen Profiles, fast an die Höhe des Deichs hinaufklatschte und Roß und Reiter überspritzte [...] Zu seiner Linken, 166 dicht an des Pferdes Hufen tobte das Meer [...] Ein donnerndes Rauschen zu seinen Füßen weckte ihn aus diesen Träumen; der Schimmel wollte nicht mehr vorwärts. Was war das? – Das Pferd sprang zurück, und er fühlte es, ein Deichstück stürzte vor ihm in die Tiefe. (SR: 89pp.) Written from a human perspective, the interruptions of the horse’s world are drowned by the animal’s speed, agility, and its usefulness for the dike master’s work, despite the ethological and cognitive challenges. Facing the professional (and athletic) fields in which equines are engaged until today shows “the species’ tremendous behavioural flexibility” (ES 177). ES’s research covers various work contexts and lists their challenges for horses (see ES 163p.). The points made for the sporting discipline ‘endurance’ and for the occupation ‘police horse’ seem applicable to Schimmel’s job: approaching unfamiliar areas and unpredictably behaving human crowds, sustaining speed despite fatigue, and negotiating novel terrain. Under these circumstances, the equines are required to “remain calm and have their locomotory responses under stimulus control, regardless of extraneous stimuli” (ES 175), meaning to only be influenced by the rider and not the environment. In SR, Hauke/Schimmel ride among the working “Menschenmassen” (SR: 70) and often charge into groups of people and equipment in critical moments. One time, Hauke urges the horse against a cart (see SR: 72), another time, a man and his tool are hit by Schimmel’s front hooves during a conflict between the dike master and his labourers (see SR: 91). Comparing the rearing on hind legs before running down the dike to a “Streithengst, der sich in die Schlacht stürzt” (SR: 88), seems to celebrate Schimmel’s brave, bold obliviousness to danger and poor sense of self preservation. According to ES though, rearing “reflects habituation or the horse learning that the threshold of aversiveness for environment is lower than the signals from their backs–so they go where they are pointed” (ES 169p.). Combining attention to the physical stimuli coming from the rider and the ones from the 167 environment, discriminating the two sources and then processing them is very challenging for a horse. Equitation requires only four basic responses from the animal–“stop, go, turn the forequarters and turn the hindquarters” (ES 178)–but the construction context demands many more and different motions from Schimmel. His divergent movements and behaviours, such as rearing and screaming, appear so frequently and intensely that they need to be looked at further in a closer analysis. Hauke/Schimmel mostly ride along the dike for reasons of patrolling, supervising the workers, and inspecting the construction. During many of these rides the horse rears because of environmental influence: they are often out during storm and flood (see SR: 81), or a worker raises a spade threateningly (see SR: 91). Schimmel also rears because of Hauke’s handling: he either mounts the horse roughly (see SR: 88) or uses riding techniques that make the animal stand on the hind hooves in high stress situations, such as the crevasse and the couple’s downfall: Er richtete sich hoch auf und stieß dem Schimmel die Sporen in die Weichen; das Thier bäumte sich, es hätte sich fast überschlagen; aber die Kraft des Mannes drückte es herunter. [...] Noch ein Sporenstich; ein Schrei des Schimmels, der Sturm und Wellenbrausen überschrie; dann unten aus dem hinabstürzenden Strom ein dumpfer Schall, ein kurzer Kampf. (SR: 94) The horse’s reaction during these final moments of their last ride together is extreme, and it follows the animal moving “wie toll” (SR: 66) and behaving “wie rasend” (SR: 91). ES explains the sudden standing on the hindlegs as “an innate anti-predator manoeuvre and an intra-specific social behaviour, usually between stallions or colts” (ES 284). Since there are no attacking animals to fear or competitive conspecifics to fight for Schimmel, and he constantly shows this demeanour, the subsequent definition seems more fitting: “Habitual rearing in horses usually accompanies other conflict behaviours” (ibid.). 168 Rearing is a problem “characterized by dysfunctions in both acceleration and deceleration responses [and] often a result of concurrent signaling of both stop and go signals” (ES 248). Giving acceleration aids with the spurs while almost simultaneously signaling deceleration with the reins characterizes Hauke’s riding exactly. When the horse is urged on, the rider holds it back to match their speed to his inner mood (see SR: 81), or when the rider cheers his mount on with “’Vorwärts, Schimmel’” (SR: 89), just to rein it in a moment later (“Er riß den Zügel zurück”, ibid.). As the dike master discovers the workers piercing through his new construction to save the old dike, he causes more conflict behaviour in his horse: “Und schon saßen seine Sporen dem Schimmel in den Weichen” (SR: 90). Then they ride to the dike: “Gewaltsam stoppte er sein Pferd” (ibid.). Thus, Schimmel has no chance to carry himself or to contribute his movements to riding, but is literally “trapped between reins and legs” (ES 221). The concurrent signals leave him “in a biomechanically impossible situation” (ibid.): ‘Go’ muscles are antagonistic to ‘stop’ muscles, therefore the horse rears up instead of moving faster or slower, forwards or backwards. The threshold of clear movements is never crossed like a line, but unfolds constantly as a zone of liminality. The long-distance endurance runs along the dike paired with the described jerky stop-and-go manoeuvres on construction and maintenance patrol, are interveined with Schimmel’s conflict behaviours, fight and flight responses and manifestations of inescapable pain. If horses cannot cope, these behaviours become regular and even ritualized, meaning they become disorders that cause hyper-reactivity and ultimately spiral into chronic stress (see ES 230). However, due to the immense behavioural flexibility of work horses deployed in non-equine-friendly environments as stated above, Schimmel might be “heading down the slippery slope of 169 learned helplessness where [he] is, on the surface at least, careless about pain” (ES 221), but is in fact constantly positioned on the edge of pressure and relief. The text also features the horse’s screaming caused by the tough use of spurs (see SR: 71, 81). More peaceful vocalizations are uttered when Schimmel is still new to Hauke, for example when the horse neighs towards the fields of cattle nearby and greets his master with a nicker upon entering the stable (see SR: 60), both typical equine vocalizations. However, the statement describing Schimmel to cry from pleasure as soon as Hauke mounts him, stands out: Bald auch, wenn das Pferd im Stall nur seine Schritte hörte, warf es den Kopf herum und wieherte ihm entgegen […] Dann führte er es aus dem Stall und legte ihm einen leichten Sattel auf; aber kaum saß er droben, so fuhr dem Thier ein Wiehern wie ein Lustschrei aus der Kehle; es flog mit ihm davon, die Werfte hinab auf den Weg und dann dem Deiche zu. (SR: 59; my emphasis) This comparison of the horse’s scream to a human sound of pleasure is overridden in the light of current ethological research, which states that equine vocalizations are restricted to few contexts with conspecifics and humans. Screaming especially is not an expression of pleasure, but pain or (consequent) aggression.105 This anthropomorphic description–even more so than the comparison of Schimmel to a Schlachtross mentioned above–can be analyzed from an ES perspective as well. Studies about the rider-horse-relationship notice a danger for the animal’s welfare due to the equestrian either underestimating its cognitive abilities, or overestimating them by thinking it knows what they want. Both assessments are anthropocentric and result in punishing the animal, for being either dumb or disobedient (see ES 39). Assigning human characteristics to animals, 105 Römhild interprets these alleged “pferdetypische Sprechakt[e] in Körperausdruck und Lautäußerung” (61) as Schimmel’s expression of his love for Hauke. ES however, refers to veterinary research on equine vocalizations, especially of the domestic horse. Typologies (see Yeon), characterizations (see Pond et al.) and a qualitative study of the whinny as a source of social information (see Hausberger et al.) all identify the animal’s scream as an expression of pain and/or aggression; they also differentiate it from various other vocalizations such as squeal, roar, groan, nicker, neigh, snore, snort and blow, plus non-verbal sounds caused by hooves, tail and mane or lips etc. Horses have a multi-faceted voice. 170 such as Schimmel running “in stolzem Galopp” (SR: 73) or the Lustschrei quoted above, seems to be “an adaptive human behaviour” (40): its main function is to “reduc[e] uncertainty and increase[e] understanding of one’s environment” (ibid.), as well as “increase predictability and, therefore, controllability in an uncertain world” (ibid.). In a word, anthropomorphic descriptions ground humans, and grounding might be something Hauke needs when flying with Schimmel. The equine protagonist first enters the story as a skinny hack with sunken eyes (see SR: 57), but flourishes and is later identified as a precious Arabian stallion: “[E]s hatte, was die Araber verlangten, ein fleischlos Angesicht; d’raus blitzten ein Paar feurige braune Augen” (SR: 59). Hauke knows about the horse’s quality from the beginning though, detecting its young age with expert eyes: “[D]as Thier ist höchstens vier Jahr’ alt” (SR: 81). He also suspects neglect and abuse to be responsible for Schimmel’s physical state: “Es ist verhungert und mißhandelt; da soll ihm unser Hafer gut thun; ich werd‘ es selbst versorgen, damit sie mir’s nicht überfüttern” (SR: 57). The dike master takes care of his horse’s food, hoof maintenance (see SR: 79) and stabling. The valuable animal seems to spend both summer (see SR: 61) and winter indoors instead of on a pasture; thus, the first ride after the cold season in March proofs to be especially spirited (see SR: 80). The master also takes the horse out and puts tack on himself (see SR: 76), since his stable servants are scared of the “Teufelspferd(e)” (SR: 61, 68). The name is motivated by its mysterious appearance with a travelling Slovakian merchant, the coincidence with a simultaneously disappearing horse skeleton on a nearby Hallig, and its at times aggressive 171 temper.106 The boys are not aware of Schimmel’s gentleness with Wienke on his back (see SR: 69) or his elegant and dance-like movements (see SR: 73). Schimmel is therefore marginalized and banned as an evil beast from the zone of good men, whose cultural demarcations and decisions he undermines when pairing up harmoniously with Hauke and the child. ES provides alternatives to labelling a horse in such ways, by regarding how its individual characteristics in relation to equine ethology create a unique emotionality. The particular history, from maternal behaviour, weaning and early handling to training (see ES 11) determines a horse’s demeanour, subsequent learning abilities and the effectiveness of riding techniques–which explains Schimmel’s sensitivity to pain in the light of possible past abuse. Another factor is breed: studies find that certain types of horses have higher reactivity and a tendency to show fight and flight responses during riding, e.g. Arabians like Schimmel. On a scale from Thoroughbreds to Standardbreds (see ES 173)–or from warm- to cold-blooded types–this Middle Eastern horse bred to bear heat and step on soft sand surfaces is the least suitable work horse. In fact, simply staying calm is challenging for Arabians, since they are “predisposed to reactivity” (ES 163). Finally, it is age and gender that determine behaviour: horses younger than five years, such as Schimmel, are prone to show anxiety and aggressiveness, “possibly because their social bonds and status are not yet mature” (ES 257), just as stallions tend to be more violent and combative. Summed up, the instants examined above show how Hauke/Schimmel’s riding is characterized by individuality, the specificites of equitation and the expansion of thresholds into 106 Borgards reminds that actions aiming to fight against wildness and violence often become wild and violent themselves, and thus, wild, violent beasts emerge: “Allgemein gesprochen: Die Bestie ist das Korrelat einer inkludierenden Exklusion; sie entsteht als Randeffekt kultureller Handlungen” (“Bestie” 170). Schimmel can be read as a “Grenz- und Gegenbild” (ibid.), as he illustrates how similar excluded and excluding powers are to each other. 172 zones of liminality instead of simply exceeding lines. Examples are the social and environmental challenges for a horse working alone in the unpredictable dike area, or the rough handling of an inherently reactive specimen with riding techniques that do not transgress lines of painful pressure, but broaden their edges. The research conducted in ES allows more detailed definitions and an ethical evaluation of such phenomena in this CS practice, and so adds to interpretations of horse-riding in literature within my interdisciplinary CLAS framework. 4.1.2 Cultural Techniques 184.108.40.206 Recursive Chains: Hauke-Riding-Schimmel Besides the crucial step of including nonhuman actors in their investigations, the scholarship of CT also recedes from a traditional determination of phenomena and is more interested in observing unfixed practices that form networks. Current research on these webs of techniques does not focus on origins, single steps or results, but the concatenation of elements into chains. Such chains occur in the cultural technique of equitation, where they connect rider, mount, tack and surface. The linking processes are recursive: they apply to their own grounds and goals and thereby produce mediating agents (for example humanimal dyads), things, and signs, as well as cultural fields (for example horsemanship). CT studies interpret the apriori chains of operations that produce culture in the first place, which for the approach at hand means to zoom in on the protagonists’ activities rather than their characters. There are several aspects of riding in SR that feature recursive chains and their attributes. First, the concatenations of subsequent operations in the practice of Hauke-Schimmel’s riding will be analyzed. Second, several binary differentiations and their processing in the Schimmelreiter context will be looked at. Furthermore, two paradigmatic moments of recurrent 173 procedures are investigated in detail: the shifts of purposes in patrol riding, and the synergy of ‘how’ and ‘what’ in prancing along the dike. Horsemanship is an action-based CT with alternating agencies: riding is its main but not only operation, in which different participants are linked in a practice that they lead in turns. Human rider, equine mount, material tack, and tempo-spatial aspects build on-going chains, which are not linear but looped together. Artefacts do not appear as extensions of the involved bodies, but entangle with them and thus amplify humanimal acts. This apprehension of riding occurs in SR, where encompassing operations are described and provide an insight into sections of the chain and its sequences. Hauke-Schimmel’s very first ride illustrates how several segments interrelate and recur: Bald auch, wenn das Pferd im Stall nur seine Schritte hörte, warf es den Kopf herum und wieherte ihm entgegen; nun sah er auch, es hatte, was die Araber verlangen, ein fleischlos Angesicht; d’raus blitzten ein Paar feurige braune Augen. Dann führte er es aus dem Stall und legte ihm einen leichten Sattel auf; aber kaum saß er droben, so fuhr dem Thier ein Wiehern wie ein Lustschrei aus der Kehle; es flog mit ihm davon, die Werfte hinab auf den Weg und dann dem Deiche zu; doch der Reiter saß fest, und als sie oben waren, ging es ruhiger, leicht, wie tanzend, und warf den Kopf dem Meere zu. Er klopfte und streichelte ihm den blanken Hals; aber es bedurfte dieser Liebkosung schon nicht mehr; das Pferd schien völlig eins mit seinem Reiter, und, nachdem er eine Strecke nordwärts den Deich hinausgeritten war, wandte er es leicht und gelangte wieder an die Hofstatt. (SR: 59p.; my emphasis) This paragraph contains three sentences consisting of several subordinate clauses and paratactic constructions each. The sequence of semicolons demonstrates the intertwining and partial merging of the text’s content, where the end of one operation already is the beginning of the next. Saddling calls for mounting, mounting calls for straddling, straddling calls for spurring, 174 spurring calls for galloping, galloping calls for reining in, reining in calls for putting weight into the saddle, and so on. Any simple step of riding invokes riding as a complex procedure, in short: riding is riding is riding. Thus, specifying each single operation is a reference to the CT riding as a whole. Moving through spaces from the stable, the path, the dike, the wharf and back to the farmstead creates a loop, just as the separate actions link into each other recursively. Hauke’s audible steps connect to Schimmel’s spirited dance moves, directing the horse out of its stall is connected to turning it back towards the way home, both times using the reins. The mutual operations of Liebkosung and Miteinander-Einswerden weave the species together. In this complex network of riding, recursions have priority over single operations, and there is no fixed original subject or resulting object. The protagonists’ equitation is a chain of actions practiced by multiple agents. In this case, agency is not restricted to humans but includes the nonhuman animal, material, and symbolical, because any party in the ongoing chains contributes to the CT: the saddle and the path make Hauke and Schimmel’s riding possible, just as the remarks about the Arabian breed or the local landmarks put their horseback dike patrol into a context of hippology and history. This texture contains the Schimmelreiter as a cultural knot of bodies, artefacts, umwelt, time and place tied together through techniques. What these recursive chains process in the practice of riding are binary distinctions such as Hauke-Schimmel, human-animal, bareback-saddled, thoroughbred-hack, and more. Such differentiations are made by the various connected operations of horsemanship, from the body techniques straddling and spurring, over the artefact saddle, to the symbolic and historical meaning of breeds. These procedures precede the media they constitute, such as riding rules in manuals, but then again, those media give the procedures functions when they are applied. Interestingly, the Schimmelreiter not only incorporates the binary distinctions associated with 175 riding, but transforms them into something new: Hauke and Schimmel ride, yet often they also ‘fly’ closely over the dike’s surface (see SR: 59, 65, 66, 81, 90), a movement which is neither a function in equitation nor an extension of the involved bodies. Looking at the immediate surroundings of that figure, it is striking that its appearance dissolves and even voids traditional binaries such as heaven-earth or light-dark. When the first narrator rides along the dike and is silently passed by the Schimmelreiter, the twilight (literally double-light, half light half darkness) and the thunderstorm turn all the world into a blur: there is “wüste Dämmerung, die Himmel und Erde nicht unterscheiden ließ” (SR: 14) and “Licht und Dunkel jagten durcheinander” (SR: 22). As the old dike breaks in the corner where it merges with the new construction (see SR: 90), Hauke-Schimmel fall into the ocean, die, and re-emerge as a ghost. However, in the very end, the narrator experiences a scene that conciliates “goldenste[s] Sonnenlichte” (SR: 95) and “weit[e] Verwüstung” (ibid.), while riding along the well-preserved, solid Hauke-Haien-Deich many years after the dike master patrolled it on horseback himself. One vivid illustration for the paradigmatic recursiveness of riding is its inherent alienation of purposes, the Zweckentfremdung, as it is exemplified by patrol rides along the dike in SR. Particular dynamics and distributions of power cause a discrepancy between the equestrian practices where one operation is the intention of another, which itself has yet another intent. The chain of instrumentality in the case of SR can be formulated as follows: ([(human rides horse/to overlook setting) (to) overlook setting]/to oversee situation) The novella features many passages in which this change of function and aim takes place, but the episode when Hauke overhears his workers name the polder after him stands out: [Er] hob sich im Sattel, gab seinem Schimmel die Sporen und sah mit festen Augen über die weite Landschaft hin, die zu seiner Linken lag. […] Der Schimmel ging in stolzem Galopp; vor seinen 176 Ohren aber summte es: ‘Hauke-Haienkoog! Hauke-Haienkoog!’ In seinen Gedanken wuchs fast der neue Deich zu einem achten Weltwunder; in ganz Friesland war nicht seines Gleichen! Und er ließ den Schimmel tanzen; ihm war, er stünde inmitten aller Friesen; er überragte sie um Kopfeshöhe, und seine Blicke flogen scharf und mitleidig über sie hin. (SR: 73) Hauke rides among his labourers during the construction to watch the work progress and witnesses how they label the project with his name instead of the official “Prinzessinnen-Name” (ibid.). Already sitting elevated on the horse, but then proudly erecting his body to an even more upright position, he views the landscape, and imagines the dike becoming a world wonder before his inner eye, and his supervision expanding over the Frisian people as a whole. Sitting high on Schimmel changes its purpose from overlooking the surroundings to overseeing the situation in a larger socio-political context.107 Riding is connected to ruling in these chained operations, which is typical for policing an area on horseback. Indeed, SR breaks up conventional relationships of purposefulness and practicability, and substitutes linear cause-and-effect structures with bifurcations of aims along recursive chains. Language provides further insight into this shift in intentions with the verb ‘to patrol’ or patroullieren, which is not explicitly used in the text but described often (riding among the workers to supervise dike construction, see SR: 65p., 70p., 73p.; riding along the dike by himself to control and maintain, see SR: 80p., 83p.; riding during emergency to enforce dike repairs, see SR: 88p.). This verb derives from Old French patrouiller, which means ‘to paddle or dabble in water with feet’ or ‘to paw about’ and is related to the German patschen. As a 17th century loan 107 In his observations about Adam’s naming of the animals, Derrida stresses the fact that God makes men to hear what they will call the animals, and “in order to see” (16p.; original emphasis) his creation’s power in action. In SR, similar naming-taming-ruling and purposeful creation is evoked with the dike master listening to his labourers naming his dike, and with him riding in order to see over them. Both represent “his sovereignty and his loneliness” (17). 177 word, it has taken on new meanings and can be paraphrased as ‘to scout or explore an area to guard and protect it from trespassing or transgression’. Ultimately, ‘to patrol’ has become a term in policing and military contexts. There appears to be a link between the physical practice of walking or pawing the ground in a certain space on horseback–riding the Schimmel–and supervising as well as securing the frontiers of that space with an official position–as the dike master–. Furthermore, while patrolling rider and horse ‘feel’ the earthy, muddy, watery surface and leave their trace as a temporary mark; their equestrian patrol is a shared technique to be grounded. Another example for exposing the results of recursive chains in the cultural technique equitation is the overlap of how human and animal operate and of what they do with these operations. Even if horse-riding’s congruency of herstellen/making and darstellen/showing is not as distinct as in other elementary CT, the unique intersection of how the participating species become rider and mount with what the equestrian dyad does together is evident. Looking at the movements of the humanimal protagonists, certain Bewegungsabläufe appear to be choreographies and thus equal part action and act: riding back and forth, to and fro, and along the dike (see SR: 65, 70, 73, 80p., 83), Schimmel pushing forward and Hauke pulling the reins to slow him down (see SR: 81, 89p., 90), or the rider’s spurs driving the mount forward while it reacts with an upward rearing instead (see SR: 88, 90, 91, 94). All these dynamic rhythms culminate in the Schimmelreiter’s dance: “Und er ließ den Schimmel tanzen” (SR: 73). Moving “wie tanzend” (SR: 59) is exemplary for equitation, in which actions are produced and acts are performed, and then coincide in the specific equestrian practice. This convergence is most obvious in the discipline of dressage, which ‘cites' natural movements of horses such as the prance during mating behaviours as a short-stepped trot, or the aggressive rearing during fights 178 as a revolving pirouette on hind legs. The culture of horsemanship is created by the introduction of binary differentiations: wild/domesticated, domesticated is broken up into unridden/ridden, ridden is broken up into untrained/trained and so on. Dancing/riding also adds another layer to the see-oversee chain of expedience, namely ‘to be seen’. Finally, riding, similar to dancing, is time- and place-bound and manifests as a ritual: the fashionable “Zweitritt”108 (SR: 38) that the villagers dance after the ball tossing game in the mudflats establishes the winner as a candidate for the dike master position, while dancing along on Schimmel’s back Hauke entrenches him in his office. SR reveals that riding, especially equitation as part of professional work, represents more than single, straightforward body techniques–however refined they are materially. Instead, it concatenates complex sequences of movements that are entwined with cultural relevance. Therefore, a closer look at the physical aspects of Hauke-Schimmel’s riding and its individual, recursive entanglements is the following step in the analysis of the cultural technique equitation. 220.127.116.11 Body Techniques: Hauke-Augen-Schimmel Mauss’ notion of body techniques is a crucial contribution to CT theories, extending the chains of people, things and signs with concrete bodies entangled by sophisticated techniques. These body techniques are also media in the recursive chains of operations, which renegotiate the demarcation lines between nature and culture, and the communication between these realms. Since there is no conceptual theory, body techniques are considered in their plurality when used 108 The Zweitritt is a couple dance in a two-four-time, similar to a waltz, where man and woman turn around in two steps. Interestingly, this folk dance which was popular in East Frisia is also called Reiter (‘rider’) or Schreiter (derived from schreiten, meaning ‘to stride’, ‘to tread’) (see Franz Magnus Böhme (ed.). Geschichte des Tanzes in Deutschland: Beitrag zur Deutschen Sitten-, Litteratur- und Musikgeschichte. Vol. 2. Leipzig: Druck und Verlag von Breitkopf & Härtel, 1886. 204f. Print.). 179 as analytical tools to approach the following specific literary samples. Concentrating on the human-horse-relationship in SR, there are two body parts that stand out with peculiar connections in technical practices: hands and eyes.109 From the beginning of Hauke’s career, hands and eyes are allocated certain aspects of work in accordance with the concepts of Deicharbeit (SR: 19) and Denkarbeit (ibid.). The two seem simultaneously separated and connected but always concatenated, for example when the boy draws an imaginary line of a new dike design in the air by hand (see SR: 19).110 Facing Hauke’s lanky physique, Elke emphasizes that in the dike master household the ability to see where work is needed is more important than actual physical strength: “[U]ns dienen zwei feste Augen besser als zwei feste Arme” (SR: 26). Her father, himself dike master, remarks that watchfulness is the main requirement of the position: “Zwei Augen hat man nur, und mit hundert soll man sehen (SR: 31). After a while as assistant, Hauke understands that insightful “Einsicht” (SR: 28) and powerful “Kraft” (ibid.) are at a reciprocal play in this world. Clenching his hands in desperate prayer during his wife’s health crisis (see SR: 66p.) also makes the local priest comment on Hauke’s religious mind, stating that disbelief is just as handy as belief: “[N]ach irgend einem Stabe muß die Hand des Menschen greifen” (SR: 68). When becoming dike master and materializing his vision–“ein Werk der Menschenhände” (SR: 66, 73)–, it also becomes clear how important hands-on labour is on the side of the master and on the side of the workers–“alle 109 Regarding the characters‘ quietness, Forssell finds body language to be the dominant medium of communication in SR (see 100f.). She also detects that hands and eyes stand out and even speaks of “Händesprache” (70) and “Augensprache” (100). However, animals are not considered agents in these types of nonverbal connection. 110 Krauß finds Denkarbeit and Deicharbeit, or thinking and seeing, to be linked in an ambivalent way (see 155), relating “Sehen und Nicht-Sehen” (156) and in succession “Sehen, Nicht-Sehen und Wissen” (ibid.) with each other. For her, Hauke’s hand movement becomes a “Geste des Autorisierens” (160) in this aesthetic dike construction. Strowick similarly detects a “Gleichzeitigkeit von Wahrnehmung und Wahrnehmungsausfall” (109) which creates uncanniness, and thus uncertainty about formal representation of reality and reality itself; his hand gesture and what he sees can therefore become one: “Hatte Hauke den Deich als ‘Linie’ in die Luft gezeichnet, so tritt im Folgenden die Linie, das heißt die formale Repräsentation des Wirklichen, an die Stelle des Wirklichen” (112). 180 Hände faßten fester in die Arbeit” (SR: 65)–. In incidents when “sich keine Hand [rührte]” (SR: 71) and the labourers oppose orders, a hand on the shoulder reminds Hauke of his old friend Jewe’s typical gesture of advice, support and praise, and even convinces him to literally let go of the reins with his hands briefly (see SR: 71). A pat on the back is a mode of action that stems from the human physique, but also contains psycho-sociological aspects as soon as the action is assembled in series and in a context such as described above. The only other mention of rein handling shows Hauke actually not really holding the reins: “Hauke’s zornrotes Antlitz war todtenbleich geworden […] seine Arme hingen schlaff, er wußte kaum, daß er den Zügel hielt” (SR: 92). An explanation for this loss of feel could be that the emotions have moved from hands to eyes: “Der Zorn stieg dem Reiter in die Augen“ (SR: 91). It also seems as if the relation between Hauke and Schimmel surprisingly features more body techniques of the eyes than of the hands. The outset of their companionship is characterized by visual connection.111 When Hauke runs into a merchant who drags Schimmel along the dike, the horse looks at him “aus blöden Augen” (SR: 58) as if begging for something. After purchasing the hack whose eyes lie “matt und eingefallen in den Schädelhöhlen” (SR: 57) and nursing it back to health, he identifies what his first visual inspection had promised–Schimmel is an individual and a breed of value: “[N]un sah er auch, es hatte, was die Araber verlangen, ein fleischlos Angesicht; d’raus blitzten ein Paar feurige Augen” (SR: 59). Schimmel’s fiery eyes are either lovingly looking at his master’s little daughter (see SR: 69), frightening his labourers (see 111 Römhild also detects this “wechselseitige, von Empathie getragene Blickinszenierung” (60), but interprets it beyond a partnership of shared physical and symbolical practice, and describes it as love: “Die Beziehung von Ross und Reiter wird im Verlauf der Erzählung als ein Liebes- und Treuebündnis auf Gegenseitigkeit, ja fast schon als eine erotische Beziehung, charakterisiert“ (59). However, comparing the relation between Hauke and Schimmel to the dike count’s erotic and romantic relation to Elke as a similar “wechselseitige Liebe auf den ersten Blick” (62) is anthropocentric; despite acknowledging mutuality, it overlooks the equine perspective and the practical entanglements of the riding pair. 181 SR: 66), or constantly directed at his human partner as soon as he dismounts: “[die] schönen Augen des Thieres, die es, wie gewöhnlich, auf seinen Herrn gerichtet hielt” (SR: 66). For Hauke, however, his eyes seem to be a substantial part of the riding practice beyond a connection to Schimmel. As dike master, he is a warden and inspector of his dike, and patrols along the dam to oversee possible damage and prompt maintenance. There are many moments in which his gaze is glued to the earthy, watery surfaces (“die Augen unablässig auf das neugewühlte Bett des Priehles heftend”, SR: 81) or glides along the build from afar (“Er […] ließ seine Augen längs der Linie des neuen Deichs gleiten”, SR: 90).112 In one rather intense episode,113 Hauke’s discovery of mice dens in the dike with his watchful eyes even comes into conflict with the hands-on side of the Deicharbeit again: Das Jahr ging weiter, aber je weiter es ging und je ungestörter die neugelegten Rasen durch die Strohdecke grünten, umso unruhiger ging oder ritt Hauke an dieser Stelle vorüber, er wandte die Augen ab, er ritt hart an der Binnenseite des Deiches; ein paar Mal, wo er dort hätte vorüber müssen, ließ er sein schon gesatteltes Pferd wieder in den Stall zurückführen; dann wieder, wo er nichts dort zu thun hatte, wanderte er, um nur rasch und ungesehen von seiner Werfte fortzukommen, plötzlich und zu Fuß dahin; manchmal auch war er umgekehrt, er hatte es sich nicht zumuthen können, die unheimliche Stelle aufs Neue zu betrachten; und endlich, mit den Händen hätte er Alles wieder aufreißen mögen; denn wie ein Gewissensbiß, der außer ihm Gestalt gewonnen hatte, lag dieses Stück des Deiches ihm vor Augen. Und doch, seine Hand konnte nicht mehr daran rühren [...] (83p.; my emphasis) 112 For Krauß, “Starren und Schweifen” (161), staring into the distance and letting the eyes run over the landscape represents a discrepancy between phenomenological observations and idealizing “’geistige[m] Sehen’” (156). 113 Strowick interprets this scene along the theme of unreliable and uncertain perception: “An der ‘unheimlichen Stelle’ erodiert visuelle Wahrnehmung hin auf ihr Unheimliches: ein Schwanken zwischen Sehen und Nicht-Sehen, eine radikale Unzuverlässigkeit der Wahrnehmung bei wiederholter In-Augenschein-Nahme“ (100p.). Interestingly, the repeated patrol rides and visual inspection intertwine with the constitutive maintenance and earthy erosion of the dike at this spot, which will later cause the crevasse. 182 Hauke’s position is that of supervising the labourers, who he looks down upon from horseback while they cart the material on the dike: “[I]m selben Augenblick saß er auch wieder hoch im Sattel und sprengte auf den Deich zurück. Seine Augen flogen über die Männer, die bei den Wagen standen“ (SR: 71). Not only does he see his vision materialized by the hands of the workers he gives orders to, Hauke also becomes the warden of the dike, the land and the people living there. When the labourers initially call it the Hauke-Haien-Deich, the protagonist rides along proudly and expands his power: Hauke aber war es, als höre er seinen Ruhm verkünden; er hob sich im Sattel, gab seinem Schimmel die Sporen und sah mit festen Augen über die weite Landschaft hin, die zu seiner Linken lag [...] Der Schimmel ging in stolzem Galopp [...] In seinen Gedanken wuchs fast der neue Deich zu einem achten Weltwunder; in ganz Friesland war nicht seines Gleichen! Und er ließ den Schimmel tanzen; ihm war, er stünde inmitten aller Friesen; er überragte sie um Kopfeshöhe, und seine Blicke flogen scharf und mitleidig über sie hin. (SR: 73) The dike master‘s professional position and his literal position on the horse are about surmounting and overlooking. These practices derive from body techniques using the eyes as the primary physical instrument, and continue in social and psychological chains of operations. First of all, seeing another individual, species or landscape creates companion- and relationships; second, overseeing them is a process that implements power relations. These two are concrete body techniques that should not be considered separately but in connection. Haukes’ and Schimmel’s eyes are neither simple tools, nor is their gaze one single incident–both are part of a complex succession of actions. As analyzed above, the practices of surmounting and overlooking are integrated into practices of profession, construction, and equitation. Thus, they make the dike master’s body–and here especially his eyes–a technical means. It merges with the surrounding people, things and signs in action and is part of the CT dike-building and riding. These CT are 183 not purely physical, mental, or contain body techniques–eye contact, gaze, glance–, they also contain visionary and verbal Geistestechniken, for example Hauke’s design and the discussions with the delegation. Untangling these practices linked in cycles and rhythms unleashes agency, such as the assembly of moments (or literally in German: ‘eyegazes’) the narrator unfolds: “[A]ber auch das war nur ein Augenblick” (SR: 88, 92; my emphasis). CT theories and SR are all about observing. Furthermore, the body techniques of eyes, or rather eyeing, in connection with Hauke’s and Schimmel’s career114 are bound into the time and place of dike building in North Germany in the eighteenth century. Being the Schimmelreiter means certain physical practices are assembled by and for social authority. Rider and mount know what to do and how to do it: “Roß und Reiter wußten wo sie ritten” (SR: 90). Moving his eyes over the landscape or the labourers while being mounted is shaped by his position as an Aufseher or Aufsichtsführender, both in his contemporary society and in his very concrete place on horseback, and therefore becomes a habitus of mastering–dike, horse, people. The Schimmelreiter can be considered an authoritative performer, whose composite practice of seeing-riding-ruling is a collection of prestigious moves.115 These interlinked activities are performed by a human individual interacting with an equine specimen, who in the process rely on certain physical principles and the cultural protocols of a certain society, time and place. Though Mauss’ aspect of training and (oral) transmission is not predominant in this example of what can be called (Auf)Sehtechniken, 114 The etymology of ‘career’ is interesting in this context, since it has obsolete meanings of ‘road’, ‘race course’ and ‘short gallop of a horse’, but nowadays means ‘profession’, ‘occupation’ or ‘calling in life’. All these meanings seem to coincide in the Schimmelreiter figure. 115 It is important to remember the “zu Storms Zeit obligatorische Ikonographie des Herrschers zu Pferde” (Römhild 55) and the fact, “dass der Araber […] als Prestigeobjekt und Herrschaftssymbol etabliert war” (Römhild 60). Nevertheless, the status and effectiveness of the Schimmelreiter is rather rooted in what they do, than in what they are. 184 they are shown to be learnable and teachable as they develop throughout Hauke’s and Schimmel’s biography and profession. Paired with paternal instructions and technical literature by Euclid (see SR: 18p.), the agricultural and mathematical parts of the young dike master’s practice are communicated via tradition and media, similar to body techniques. For equitation as a means of supervising in the novella, it seems that the interspecies companions do what they know and know what they do. Not even the narrator explains their shared activity, their material connections, and their movements outside of their usefulness. There are, however, magical facets of the Schimmelreiter supervisor, that go beyond the mundane into the symbolic realm of signs: the existence as a ghost (see SR: 13pp.) and as a tale (see SR: 16pp.), as a Texttier and Tiertext, dead and alive at the same time.116 Finally, the analyzed body techniques in SR comprise liminality between physical and symbolical action: hands grasp spades, reins or ideas, eyes gliding over land and people simultaneously elevate and ground the rider figure. The Schimmelreiter’s horse-human relation as companions and equitation partners exemplifies an embodied experience of every-day lives containing supervising patrol rides and hands-on, eyes-on work. There is no straightforward reference to the schooling of riding or the specific horseback education of a dike master and their horse in the narrative. Hence, the last part of this interpretation of SR uses a contemporary horsemanship handbook to find patterns of similarity and difference in the practice of riding and 116 Strowick explains how perceiving and not-perceiving cancel each other out in SR (“Weder ist es möglich seinen Augen zu trauen, noch, seinen Augen zu misstrauen.”, 98), and thus places the uncanniness of ghostly encounters “weniger [in] der Figur, dem mutmaßlichen Reiter, als dem Wahrnehmungsakt selbst” (ibid.). There are material and symbolic riders on the dike, there is both a living horse and an equine skeleton on the Hallig, and Storm’s modern strategy of playing with the deficiencies of perception exposes the fusion of fact and fiction to the reader (see 119pp.). 185 the partnership between the species. Eventually, this is the broadest analytical perspective in the quest to untangle the practical and topical nodal points of the equestrian cultural technique. 18.104.22.168 Horsemanship Manuals: Hauke-Liebkosung-Schimmel The study of cultural techniques opens up to posthuman theories which invites to explore horse-riding manuals, and thus introduces new perspectives on this intricate, long-established CS practice, its bodily aspects and use in professional work. These implications match a multidisciplinary CLAS analysis of equestrian and equine in SR, to which Fillis’ contemporary guide on the art of riding adds illustrations of the practical and cultural contextures of riding. Among the multitude of different moments in everyday work life around the dike, there are two aspects of Hauke/Schimmel’s riding that give deeper insights to equitation around the Jahrhundertwende in Germany. The first concerns the communication between horse and rider, and the second is the consequence of that in the form of punishing and caressing. Fillis starts off with the basic requirements for rider and mount, their characters and capabilities. He finds certain physical traits of the human superior to others: “Um gut im Sattel zu sitzen und zu erscheinen, bedarf es übrigens einer gewissen Anzahl guter körperlicher Eigenschaften; denn es ist augenscheinlich, dass ein dicker, kleiner Mensch zu einem guten Reiter weniger geeignet ist, als ein ziemlich grosser und schlanker Mann” (Grundsätze 35). Hauke, “lang aufgeschosse[n]“ (SR: 26) as a boy and still sporting a “hagere Gestalt“ (SR: 70) as an adult fulfills Fillis’ demands for a good rider. Besides being tall and lean, proper balance and equipoise are preferred over “Kraftaufwand” (Grundsätze 33). Even though Hauke keeps a stable seat when Schimmel rears (see SR: 88), he does use strong force to press him down to the ground (see SR: 94). In the case of a quick deceleration, the protagonist even works “mit 186 Gewalt” (SR: 90) or “[g]ewaltsam” (ibid.). Applying a certain violence to the horse is considered the most difficult and courageous skill of a rider (see Grundsätze 107). Being brave and bold counts especially when handling stallions: “Mit solchen wird man […] aber fertig, d.h. wenn man alle Eigenschaften eines guten Reiters besitzt, unter anderem diejenige, in welche alle anderen einbegriffen sind, nämlich: kein Feigling zu sein!” (Grundsätze 105) The ultimate “Reitertalent” (Grundsätze 106) is to master one’s mount via methods such as “Sichanpassen” (ibid.; my emphasis) and by preventing an “Ausdemsitzkommen” (Grundsätze 101; my emphasis) in case of equine resistance. Hence, the rider’s seat is key and determines if a person just sits on a horse or actually rides (see Grundsätze 36). According to Fillis, a rider should sit flexible but firm: “Kurz zusammengefasst ist das vornehmlichste Erfordernis der feste Sitz” (Grundsätze 38). Hauke is described just like that, for example in an episode when Schimmel accelerates fast: “doch der Reiter saß fest” (SR: 59). During the same ride, Schimmel and Hauke seem to become “völlig eins” (SR: 60) with each other. This merger is also laudably mentioned in the manual which recommends a solid seating position in order to “mit dem Pferd eins zu bleiben” (Grundsätze 33). Keeping the torso upright, putting the weight onto the buttocks, and straddling the horse’s sides with the legs inhibits the rider from clamping on the animals back and belly (see Grundsätze 99p.), loosening arms and hands hinders them from holding on to the reins (see Grundsätze 93p.). All these physical practices are part of what Fillis calls “’Reitertakt’” (Grundsätze VI) or “Reitergefühl” (Grundsätze XII), concepts deriving from praxis rather than the theory of kinematics. The author draws from his own experience to explain how a sensitive rider’s rhythm and feeling should be applied: Man entrollte vor mir ein Gesamtbild von den Wechselwirkungen zwischen Reiter und Pferd, welches mir ermöglichte, alles zu ordnen, zu zergliedern und zu begreifen. [...] Hatte ich aber 187 einmal mit dem Verstande die Methode erfasst, dann handelte es sich nur noch darum, dieselbe auf Hand und Schenkel zu übertragen, d.h. die Wechselwirkung dieser zum Ausdruck zu bringen. [...] Alle Halbheit vermeidend, befleissigte ich mich gespannter Aufmerksamkeit durch ganz besondere Beobachtung aller Geringfügigkeiten und einer feiner durchgeführten Behandlung der praktischen Arbeit, um bei mir diejenige Feinheit des Erkennens aller beabsichtigten Bewegungen und Andeutungen des Pferdes auszubilden, welche erlaubt, augenblicklich, aber massvoll mit Wirkung gegen Wirkung einzugreifen. (Grundsätze VII; my emphasis) An example for this reciprocal interaction of feeling each other’s motions and exerting specific influences, is riding under pressure: “Der Schimmel drängte vorwärts und schnob und schlug mit den Vorderhufen; aber der Reiter drückte ihn zurück” (SR: 81). When presenting further human effects on the horse, Fillis states that “[d]ie menschliche Stimme […] einen grossen Einfluss auf das Pferd [hat]” (Grundsätze 12), especially the intonation, but says that “der Blick des Menschen nicht den geringsten Einfluss auf das Pferd ausübt“ (Grundsätze 11). Yet, the line of gaze is important for the rider’s vigilance and circumspection: “Sein Blick muss überall hin und niemals auf irgendeinen festen Punkt gerichtet sein, so dass er alle ihn umgebenden Gegenstände erfasst” (Grundsätze 31). Hauke’s Umsicht and sense of Umgebung is vast, his eyes wander from landscape to workers, glide from the ocean to the dike on his patrol rides, and are cast over the mudflats and polder. Schimmel’s eyes are mostly glued to his master, making one stable boy comment on his scary stare: “Herr, euer Pferd, es ist so ruhig, als ob es Böses vorhabe!” (SR: 66) The ghost story about a horse skeleton surrounding Schimmel brings him the nickname “Teufelspferd[e]” (SR: 61, 68), but his character is first described as dull (see SR: 57p.). Then he gains fiery attributes such as “feurige braune Augen” (SR: 59) and a “feurige[r] Kopf” (SR: 61), and becomes the 188 “feurig[e] Schimmel” (SR: 70). The animal protagonist features some of the most important qualities Fillis prefers in a horse: surefootedness, courage and fearlessness, and lastly a fiery spirit: “Diese hervorragendste Eigenschaft für jedes Pferd ist ein feuriges Temperament, d.h. energisch, eifrig, edelmütig und immer gehlustig zu sein” (Grundsätze 219). As soon as Schimmel recovers from the former abuse and neglect, he bursts with energy (see SR: 59) while also acting gentle with his master and Wienke (see SR: 75). Fillis ascribes these characteristics to the thoroughbred, saying it is “das ausgezeichnetste Pferd für jede Dienstleistung” (Grundsätze 224). Especially the Arabian117 is a favourite, because “[w]enn die arabischen Pferde im allgemeinen leicht und angenehm zu reiten sind, so liegt das daran, dass sie feurig sind” (Grundsätze 221). Besides the breed, the sex of the horse influences riding: mares are “zu kitzlig” (Grundsätze 6), geldings are “viel gelassene[r]” (Grundsätze 7), and stallions are full of “üble Angewohnheit[en]” (Grundsätze 6) and “Widersetzlichkeiten” (ibid.). Since the text mentions that Hauke rides a brown gelding before he gets Schimmel (see SR: 63), and because the latter is referred to with a male pronoun, it can be assumed that he is a stallion. Dealing with equine Widersetzlichkeiten, stallions are most likely to rear (“Sodann bäumt sich ein Hengst mit der grössten Leichtigkeit“, Grundsätze 6), a behaviour Schimmel frequently shows in a milder form of just kicking with his front hooves (see SR: 81, 90, 91). During their final ride then, Schimmel rears when facing the crumbling dike in front of them and almost tumbles before they crash into the ocean: “Er richtete sich hoch auf und stieß dem Schimmel die Sporen in die Weichen; das Thier bäumte sich, es hätte sich fast überschlagen; aber die Kraft des 117 Römhild explains the mythological symbolism and the hippological reality of the Arabian: this Middle Eastern breed is carefully monitored since the Middle Ages and connected to even older religious origins. Stories about Arabians‘ spiritedness arrive in Europe in the 19th century: “Man kann davon ausgehen, dass die vielen Legenden um das Araberpferd zu Storms Zeiten bereits Allgemeingut waren” (52). The legends are followed by the horse itself, whose breeding is established in Germany at the beginning of the 20th century, mainly for cavalry purposes. 189 Mannes drückte es herunter” (SR: 94). According to Fillis, this is the most dangerous form of rearing: “Von wirklichem Steigen kann man erst sprechen, wenn das Pferd mit den Hinterbeinen fest fusst und sich dabei kerzengerade aufrichtet. Diese Widersetzlichkeit, welche zum Überschlagen des Pferdes führen kann, ist die gefährlichste“ (Grundsätze 102). Hauke reacts with “noch ein Sporenstich“ (SR: 94) that pushes the pair forward and eventually down the bursting dike. Applying the spurs is what the manual recommends as well, but only just before the horse rears: Durch einen kräftigen Sporenstich lässt es sich sehr wohl erreichen, dem Steigen oder der Pointe zuvorzukommen. Dazu muss man aber den flüchtigen Augenblick genau abpassen, in welchem das Pferd sich zurückhält und zusammenziehen will, um sich auf die Hinterhand zu setzen. (Grundsätze 101) Here it becomes clear how important exact timing is in the chain of riding operations. The use of the spurs in anticipation of the horse’s misbehavior is stated as a part of the Reitergefühl, the rider’s response-ability to recognize his mount’s distress in advance. Fillis describes that resistance is the most fulfilling aspect of horsemanship. He declares the struggle to be “eine nützliche Leibes- und Geistestätigkeit” (Grundsätze VI) which eventually leads to mutual understanding of human and animal. This accordance of the companion species in action depends on a careful concatenation of reward and punishment. The author stresses the importance of effective timing for the two “Behandlungsarten” (Grundsätze 15). A rewarding caress is supposed to promptly follow the horse’s submission, a punishing stroke needs to happen even more immediately after the equine disobedience. In Fillis’ words: Die Liebkosung muss aber bei der Dressur immer zur richtigen Zeit eintreten; sie muss dem Nachgeben des Pferdes u n m i t t e l b a r folgen, wie dem Ungehorsam die Strafe. [...] Beide müssen unter allen Umständen r e c h t z e i t i g angewandt werden; aber ganz besonders ist dies 190 bei der Strafe notwendig. [...] Dies ist der Grund, weshalb die Strafe ihre ganze Wirksamkeit verliert und zu einer Gedächtnisverwirrung bei dem Pferde wird, wenn sie nicht i n d e m s e l- b e n A u g e n b l i c k zur Anwendung kommt, in welchem der Fehler begangen wird. Die Strafe soll dem Fehler ebenso schnell folgen, wie die Liebkosung der Nachgiebigkeit. (Grundsätze 14pp.; original emphasis) Fillis considers the two forms of contact integral for a functional horse-rider-companionship. They constitute major links in the recursive chain of body practices and technical operations during riding. Right after the timely application of reward and punishment, he also points out how reciprocal and complementary the two acts are: Liebkosungen, wie man sie im nachstehenden öfters kennenlernen wird, sind Hilfsmittel, welche man nicht vernachlässigen darf. Abwechselnd mit Strafen legen sie den Grund zur Erziehung des Pferdes. Sie machen das Pferd zuversichtlich, bringen es in ganz anderer Weise in Übereinstimmung mit seinem Reiter, als durch sonstige energische Einwirkungen. (Grundsätze 14) Fillis does not give detailed examples, especially not for the punishments. Regarding rewards, he just describes one body technique further: patting the horse’s neck. It is the one of the few rewards the rider can perform during riding, and even the most sensitive animals like to be touched on the neck. The loving contact should be varied to gain the horse’s attention, and most importantly not be too soft or too severe–“kräftig, aber ohne Härte” (Grundsätze 14)–, in order to neither tickle the horse or be confused with a punishment. Seemingly, the scale of the contact’s intensity and its intent are central for a successful human-animal practice. To make a Liebkosung even more effective, Fillis recommends combining it with a vocal reward: “Um einen vollständigen Erfolg zu erzielen, muss die Liebkosung von der Stimme begleitet sein” (Grundsätze 15). Elke chooses this type of reward when she and Wienke admire 191 Schimmel’s good behaviour, petting his neck while commenting on his positive development: “’Bist doch ein braves Thier geworden!’ sagte sie dann und klopfte den blanken Hals des Pferdes” (Grundsätze 69). Hauke is pictured cheering the horse on with his voice during their ride through the thunderstorm (“’Vorwärts, Schimmel!’ rief Hauke; ‘wir reiten unseren schlimmsten Ritt!’”, SR: 89), and mostly caresses his horse when gearing up or down. Interesting is that these Liebkosungen are not a unilateral contact118 from the human side, but become reciprocal with Schimmel actively allowing them: “[D]ann legte er den Kopf auf seines Herrn Schulter und duldete behaglich dessen Liebkosung” (SR: 60). The dike master, though mostly applying rough rein and spur contact during equitation, receives ample Liebkosungen from Schimmel: “Hauke lachte und nahm das Pferd selbst am Zügel, das sogleich liebkosend den Kopf an seiner Schulter rieb” (SR: 66). Hauke looks after the horse himself without the help of his stable boys, from bringing it in from the pasture (see SR: 76) to feeding it (“ich werd‘ es selbst versorgen, damit sie mir’s nicht überfüttern”, SR: 57; “Aber nicht allein an jenem Abend fütterte er den Schimmel; er that es fortan immer selbst und ließ kein Auge von dem Thiere”, SR: 59). This intensive bond is illustrated in Schimmel’s strong reaction to Hauke’s presence: “Bald auch, wenn das Pferd im Stall nur seine Schritte hörte, warf es den Kopf herum und wieherte ihm entgegen” (SR: 59). Fillis relativizes this phenomenon in his chapter about horses’ conceptions, in which he claims that “Gedächtnis” (Grundsätze 10) and “Gewohnheiten” (ibid.) outdo “Anhänglichkeit” (ibid.), as this anecdotal reference shows: 118 In Forssell’s study of the body language in SR animals are categorized as “Empfänger von liebevollen Streicheleinheiten” (68). Whether that conveys tenderness (as in the case of Hauke and Schimmel), processes loneliness (as in the case of Trien’ Jans and her tomcat), or appears macabre (as in the case of the old dike master petting his favourite duck in the form of a roast), caresses are considered one-sided: animals receive them in order for humans to express their feelings. 192 Sobald ich in den Stall trete und meine Stimme erhebe–alle wiehern!–Und wenn zufällig ein Fremder zugegen ist, verfehlt dieser niemals zu sagen: ’Wie Ihre Pferde Sie wiedererkennen, wie müssen die Sie lieben!‘ Das ist ein Irrtum. Würde statt meiner ein anderer zu derselben Stunde die Mohrrüben austeilen, so würden die Pferde nicht einmal bemerken, dass ich nicht gekommen bin. Der Beweis dafür ist, dass die Pferde mir nicht die allergeringste Aufmerksamkeit schenkten, wenn ich einige Minuten, nachdem sie die Mohrrüben verzehrt hatten, eingetreten war. (Grundsätze 10p.) Whether the connection bases on habitual or emotional attachment, the Schimmelreiter is a complex, entangled figure, and people witnessing the special relationship are often afraid. Hauke never fears Schimmel, which is why he reciprocally benefits from his loyalty and intrepidity, which, according to the handbook, is typical for a fiery horse “welches wegen seiner beständigen Gehlust furchtlos ist, selbst in der Widersetzlichkeit” (Grundsätze 221). An example for this is the very end of SR, where the horse stops, backs up and rears facing the crumbling dike, but finally jumps over the edge after Hauke applies the spurs. Seemingly, a spirited animal like Schimmel gives its all to the human eagerly and receives fondling readily, in a word: it sacrifices itself for the rider’s best (see Grundsätze 223). The connection of human and horse bodies and character attributes, a certain force and sensitivity, their communication using vision and voice, and the reciprocal chains of punishing and rewarding contact create an all-entangling, coalesced practice. These mutual relatings in riding culminate in a flying movement, as Hauke and Schimmel experience it together (see SR: 59, 65, 66, 81, 90) while patrolling the dike. Fillis resumes: Wo hört der Mensch auf? Wo fängt das Pferd an? Man weiss es nicht recht! Beide sind in eins verschmolzen, beide gleich geschmeidig und zugleich voller Leben, kraftvoll, lebens- und tatenfroh! […] Das ist der Flug, der hohe, berauschende Flug ohne Anstrengung, ohne Ermüdung; das ist eine sinnliche Freude, welche den Geist verzehrt und welche nichts anderes in 193 Ihnen aufkommen lässt, als das närrische Vergnügen, sich des unbegrenzten Raumes zu bemächtigen. Ich sage Ihnen, dass das Vollblutpferd den Menschen vervollkommnet. (Grundsätze 232p.; my emphasis) The Schimmelreiter‘s unlimited space is the coastal edge along the dike where they ride “im Freien” (Grundsätze 231), “auf dem harten Erdboden” (ibid.) or “durchweichte[m] Erdboden” (ibid.). Entangling in riding is not confined to the participating species though, it expands to the equestrian landscape: “Die Landschaft lässt an Ihnen ihr Panorama vorüberziehen, von welchem Sie selbst ein lebendiger vorwärtsschreitender Teil sind; denn Sie werden durch das Land geführt in der gleichmässig fortgesetzen Bewegung des mit langem Schritt ausgreifenden Vollblutpferdes” (Grundsätze 232). How the human rider feels the earthy ground while being elevated on a horse is well illustrated at the novella’s finale, when Hauke simultaneously senses Schimmel’s resistance to going forward and the dike bursting where his hooves step: “Das Pferd sprang zurück, und er fühlte es, ein Deichstück stürzte vor ihm in die Tiefe” (SR: 92p.). In sum, these aspects of equitation in SR analyzed above concern the mutual moving towards each other along spectra of contact, such as the literal hands-on practices of rewarding caresses. This expands to the techniques employed in the entanglements of the riding figures, their physical and temperamental range, and the space they ride through. Fillis’ handbook on horsemanship illustrates and clarifies these manifold liminal moments of riding in SR, and embeds them in the innovative discourses of CLAS and CT studies. 194 4.2 Entangling – Riding3 4.2.1 Emerging Third: Riding on a Line to Entanglement In theories of CS as well as in CT, the emergence of a new, unprecedented third element from two or more entangled humans, animals or other objects is central. This novel subject or practice is the prerequisite and simultaneously the product of the encounter between the ‘original’ two. In SR, there are two examples for emerging thirds: the dike construction, and the dike master and his horse’s riding. First and most notably, the dike can be considered a third object emerging between the two elements water and earth, between the North Sea and Frisia. It starts as an idea and is superficially thought of as a line that separates the destructive ocean from the productive land: “Die Linie aber, welche er unsichtbar gezogen hatte, war ein neuer Deich, neu auch in der Construction seines Profiles, welches bis jetzt nur noch in seinem Kopf vorhanden war” (SR: 51). Looking beyond the mathematical-geographical concept though, the dike not only simultaneously withholds the tidal waters and expands the earthy soils in the form of a line, but also creates a larger zone of liminality. Located in the already hybrid coastal area, the dike generates a vast number of water/earth blends such as mudflats, foreshore, wetlands, fen, heath, polder and Geest, which are much more complex than the simple arrangement water-shore-mainland, especially since the tidal movements change the shoreline daily. Hauke’s disputed design of the dike’s profile is “nicht steil wie früher, sondern allmählig verlaufend nach der Seeseite abfallen[d]” (SR: 61), and this mild descent is supposed to be less of an “Angriffspunkt” (SR: 62) for the waves than a bold embankment. The softly increasing slope contributes further to the concept of the dike as a wider zone instead of a narrow line. Still, when it comes to working and riding on the dike, the construction is often reduced to the 195 “Deichlinie” (SR: 65, 69). For the critics the dike is “ein Werk auf Tod und Leben” (SR: 52), for the dike master and his workers it is a “Werk der Menschenhände” (SR: 66, 73) determined by God’s grace. Interestingly, Hauke’s almost atheistic prayer spoken during his wife’s life-threatening sickness–scandalized by his eavesdropping servants–(see SR: 67pp.) somehow even explains such doubts in His Almightiness and man’s turn towards the palpable, “denn nach irgend einem Stabe muß die Hand des Menschen greifen” (SR: 68). The focus on human creation seems anthropocentric at first, but is diluted by the fact that building the dike is first of all an ongoing process, and second, also involves nonhuman agents. The construction begins with the superior dike master’s consent to Hauke’s proposal (see SR: 58), and continues with filling gaps and floodgates in the dam over several seasons (see SR: 66, 69, 70) until it stands successfully for three years (see SR: 74). However, the impact of wind and water, as well as the mice underground (see SR: 83) not only influences but co-constitutes the dike. The Hauke-Haien-Deich is neither part of the ocean nor the land, but as a protective barrier it engenders the former as frightful and the latter as fruitful; it is generated by the daily grind of the elements, the material, the creatures, and the procedures of the ‘all eyes’ dike master himself, his conceptual design, the hands-on workers, the mice traversing it and the horses treading on it. Second and most importantly, the dike master and his horse riding on the Deichlinie together constitute the concept of a third, an operation that emerges from the entangled partners. Besides riding on top of the dike on its designated trail, the pair also rides along the dike (“auf seinem Deich entlang zu reiten”, SR: 80), around the dike (“auf dem neuen Deich herumgeritten”, ibid.), to and fro along the shore (“und ritt am Ufer hin und her”, SR: 81), or goes in circles in the wharf (“auf der Werfte im Kreise herum”, SR: 69)–their shared motions overlap and intertwine with the space and the surface. Furthermore, the way in which this dyad 196 moves is literally organ-ized. Both of them connect via their eyes from the very beginning (“das Thier aber hob den Kopf und sah mich aus blöden Augen an; mir war’s, als ob es mich um Etwas bitten wolle”, SR: 58p.), and Hauke’s hands and feet work with the horse’s mouth and flanks. While the rider’s spurs grasp the sensitive flesh on the horse’s sides, the horse’s hooves grasp the ground they are moving on, no matter the wetness of the earth: “Der schmale Weg war grundlos; denn die Tage vorher war unermeßlicher Regen gefallen; aber der nasse saugende Klei schien gleichwohl die Hufen des Thieres nicht zu halten, es war als hätte es festen Sommerboden unter sich” (SR: 89). It seems as if only their entangled prehensi
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UBC Theses and Dissertations
Schimmelreitergeschichte : companion species and cultural techniques in Jahrhundertwende novellas by… Kage, Melanie 2016
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