[Nachruf:] Ward, Lester F.: Ludwig Gumplowicz, in:
American Journal of Sociology, Vol. 15, No. 3 (Nov., 1909), S. 410-413.
Ward, Lester F.
A great sociological light was extinguished when, on August
20 last, Ludwig
Gumplowicz ceased
to exist. The double suicide of this remarkable man and his accomplished wife,
Franciska, is now well known to the world. It was a deliberate act on the part of
both, without any brain-softening or the slightest tinge of an unbalanced mental
state on the part of either. They were a devoted couple, and his prolonged sacrifice
for her during so many years of her invalid life would form the subject for a
romance of heroism, could it be written. Life for either without the other was
impossible, and the dread malady would soon, as both knew, have left her alone.
Simultaneous death was far preferable.
Nietzsche says
that the suicide displays such heroism that he almost deserves to live. Never was
this more true than in the present case.
As one of the certainly very few Americans who knew
Gumplowicz personally , it seems to me to be almost a duty to join in the
general expression of regret at his loss. But his work was certainly done, and his
tragic end only prevented a far sadder one by a few months at most. He had passed
his seventy-first year, and even good health would not have preserved him for
science many more active years. There is, therefore, reason for being reconciled to
the fact as it has transpired.
The readers of this
Journal
know
[1]
that I
took special pains to journey from Vienna to Graz in 1903 on purpose to meet him and
thresh out face to face some of the problems that we had long been discussing in
letters. He has been called a pessimist, and perhaps deserved the name, but one
passage in the article of his to which I have just referred, well describes himself;
and never will it be more appropriate to repeat it than now. He says:
When we speak of “pessimists,” we think of morose
growlers who are always cursing and never satisfied; while we mean by “optimists”
people
411
who are content with themselves and the world. This association
of ideas is far from exact. On the contrary, the facts are precisely the reverse.
The pessimist in world-philosophy is usually an optimist in life. The troublous
course of the world does not surprise him; he expects nothing better; he knows that
the world does not surprise him; he expects nothing better; he knows that the world
is evil, that it cannot be otherwise. Thus he has no ground whatever for being
unsatisfied with life; it is as it always was, and always will be. He enjoys
des Lebens Unverstand as a comedy of nature. The case is
different with the optimist in world-philosophy. Convinced that things may be better
if man will only better himself, he stumbles against rude disappointments at every
step, and he is constantly complaining that men, and with them life itself, is ever
failing to make improvement. In eternal expectation of better times, he experiences
constantly new disappointments and falls from one despair into another. The optimist
in world-philosophy usually presents to us in life the picture called up by the word
“pessimist.”
[2]
Conformably to this general description I found him the
gentlest of men, the type of kindly suavity and apparent contentment with his lot,
which was hard even then, as he was absolutely confined to Graz and to the tender
care of his beloved invalid wife. As to the latter, I was unable to see her on that
occasion, as her health did not permit, but three years later, when I again visited
Graz and enjoyed a second prolonged interview with
Gumplowicz, I
was so fortunate as to meet her a few minutes in the park and converse with her. She
was a highly cultivated and refined lady with a well-stored mind and charming
manners, speaking French without the slightest accent. I could well understand his
devotion to such a person.
It was he who had prevailed upon the Wagner Publishing
House in Innsbruck to publish Mrs. Johanna
Odenwald-Unger’s German translation of my
Pure
Sociology, and had also volunteered to correct the proofs. I visited Innsbruck
in 1906 while the work was in press, and went thence to Graz. He saw the work
through and in his many letters evinced a profound interest in my views, though
often so much opposed to his own.
Toward the end of 1907 his health began to fail, and in a
letter dated November 16, 1907, he mentions it and says: “The doctor describes my
condition as ‘nervous prostration in consequence of a nervous shock,’” but the did
not intimate at that time
412
anything more definite, although it seems
that a council of doctors had pronounced his case of cancer of the tongue. In
another letter dated February I, 1908, he writes:
My seventieth year is giving me some very unpleasant
experiences, but I am not sick, and moreover I am a perfectly free man. . . . I have
promised myself now to make up something of what I have been neglecting during the
last ten years in the domain of sociology–and therefore, first of all, to occupy
myself with your sociology (whish is really a cosmology) is something that I greatly
desired. The correction of the proofs is a very agreeable (and now almost my only)
occupation.
It was in his letter of October 24, 1908, that he first
explained to me the nature of the “nervous shock” of a year previous. In that letter
he says:
Things are going better with me now, and they were
really bad only in the opinion of the doctors, who appear to have been mistaken.
This is the way it was: At the end of 1907, in consequence of a wound made by the
sharp corner of a tooth there was formed a small scar and swelling on the tongue. I
could not reconcile myself to it, and was resolved to take my life in case the
opinion of the doctors should be proved correct. However, such was not the case.
Since the vote of the doctors ten months have elapsed and no single symptom of carcinoma has shown itself–on the contrary the swelling has
diminished, and I find myself quite well.
Alas ! it was he who was mistaken.
My last letter from him is dated March 28, 1909.
Pure Sociology was (the German edition), and he had offered
to revise the manuscript of Mrs.
Unger’s
German translation of Applied Sociology, not yet finished. At the end of the letter
he says:
I regret that I shall not survive the appearance of your
Angewandte Soziologie, for I am in a bad way–my wife
also, who thanks you heartily for your friendly words, is very poorly, so that we
are both thinking more of the other side (an’s Jenseits
denken), and life is a burden to us. I am sorry that I most close this letter
with such bad news about myself, but I do not consider my situation as at all
tragic, for I have already reached my seventy-second year. I have also the
satisfaction of seeing my Rassenkampf appear in the second
edition (after 26 years!), and before my departure I shall leave to the world still
another little Sozialphilosophie–my swan song.
The new
Rassenkampf with all his
early papers appended, in which he first set forth his great theory in 1875, reached
me on May 27. This work, as he told me at the beginning of our correspondence
contains his “system.” His other numerous works are only amplifications of it. No
one understands
Gumplowicz who
has not read his
Rassenkampf. The
Schwanengesang I have not yet seen. I acknowledged the former with hearty
congratulations, but I was then just leaving for Europe, and I received no further
word from him. Mrs.
Unger,
however received a short pathetic note from him dated August 8 (twelve days before
the fatal act) which she has kindly allowed me to see. He tells her that it will be
his last letter to her and that he writes it with great effort. He makes a
suggestion regarding the English translation of the
Rassenkampf (undertaken by Mrs. Unger::odenwald-unger some time ago from the
original edition, but not completed), sends his greetings to her, and in a
postscript, to me.
At the banquet of the Bern Congress of the International
Institute of Sociology on August 21, a postal card to him was circulated and packed
with signatures of admiring friends. I made mine so plain that he could not overlook
it.
Thus has passed from our midst a striking figure, which,
whatever may be the fate of his theories and original ideas, will ever stand as a
prominent landmark in the history of sociology. The heaviest obligation under which
sociologists now rest, and the one which is most neglected, is that of recognizing,
appreciating, and utilizing the work of their fellow-sociologists, and that of
Ludwig
Gumplowicz deserves this honor as fully as any other work done in this field.