Exploited world of neurotic mannerism, decentralization, pollution, nothing is valid anymore, no hatred, no “I love you,” only the cry of the whore and the blows of love, everything that exists is thought of crookedly, avoiding the straight line. Nothing can be tackled any longer without ulterior motives, ever more in the background, ducking, nothing open, loss of all direct looks, of naiveties, like a curse.
Gretchen’s love for Faust, the decisive criterion of German poetry and attitude, becomes ridiculous.