An Ambitious Beginning: Schiller’s Vision for German Literature

In the final decade of the 18th century, Friedrich Schiller, already an established literary giant, embarked on an ambitious project: the creation of a journal that would elevate German letters to new heights. Titled Die Horen , after the Greek goddesses of the seasons, the publication was conceived not merely as a periodical but as a cultural institution. Schiller boldly proclaimed, “Our journal shall become an epoch-making work,” signaling his intention to shape the intellectual and aesthetic currents of his time. The project launched amid great optimism and considerable fanfare. With a remarkable 2,000 subscriptions secured even before the first issue, the journal seemed poised for success. Its roster of contributors glittered with prominent names, and the reading public awaited each installment with keen anticipation.

Schiller employed an innovative, though ultimately controversial, promotional strategy. He arranged with Friedrich Schütz, editor of the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung , to publish detailed quarterly reviews of Die Horen, with payments discreetly covered by Schiller’s publisher, Johann Friedrich Cotta. This approach, however, backfired severely when the public discovered the arrangement, leading to accusations of manipulation and damaging the journal’s credibility. Despite this, Die Horen gained notoriety for offering generous remuneration to its authors—a rarity in the literary world of the time. Cotta, recognizing the prestige associated with the project, willingly invested substantial sums to attract top talent. Yet this very combination of famous names, financial inducements, and editorial hauteur fostered resentment. Many perceived the enterprise as presumptuous, an attempt by a select few to instruct the entire literary establishment.

The “Magic Circle”: Exclusivity and Backlash

The journal quickly acquired a reputation for exclusivity. It was seen not as a forum for open discourse but as a closed circle, accessible only to an initiated few. This perception was powerfully articulated by a philosophy professor from Kiel named Mackensen, who observed that within a publication purportedly dedicated to all the German people, a small clique of idiosyncratic writers operated in isolation. This circle, he noted, had so little connection to the broader public that ordinary readers regarded it with more trepidation than they would a “magic circle.” His criticism found widespread agreement as subscription numbers began to decline noticeably after the first few issues.

Nevertheless, many writers initially clamored to be part of this exclusive group. Those who were rejected often responded with bitterness and ridicule. Among them was the young Friedrich Schlegel, who, after having his submission declined, caustically remarked that contributing to Die Horen was no longer a particular honor for a young writer, given that “a whole crowd of rubbish” had been admitted. This dismissive comment, however, stood in stark contrast to the involvement of his own brother, August Wilhelm Schlegel, who remained one of the journal’s most active and respected contributors. The contradiction highlighted the complex and often fraught relationships within Germany’s literary community.

The Schlegel Brothers: Collaboration and Conflict

August Wilhelm Schlegel, the elder of the two brilliantly gifted brothers, had already carved out a reputation as a perceptive literary critic before Schiller invited him to contribute to Die Horen. His favorable reviews of Schiller’s earlier works, such as the journal Thalia and the poem “The Artists,” had drawn Schiller’s attention. Yet their relationship was not without its complications. Schiller’s friend Christian Gottfried Körner observed that August Wilhelm’s criticism often seemed excessively deferential, too inclined to “look up to” Schiller. This dynamic grew more tense with the publication of Schiller’s devastating critique of the poet Gottfried August Bürger, which placed August Wilhelm in an awkward position. As a member of Bürger’s circle in Göttingen, he felt torn between his admiration for Schiller and his loyalty to his friends.

The situation was further inflamed by August Wilhelm’s future wife, Caroline Böhmer, who held no appreciation for Schiller’s poetry and was incensed by his attack on Bürger. She encouraged August Wilhelm to compose a sharply critical poem aimed at Schiller, which was published in the Göttingen Musenalmanach. The poem questioned why someone endowed with such innate power and genius would bother with such laborious and painful self-refinement. Schiller, unaware of the identity of his critic, remained momentarily in the dark.

Six months later, in May 1792, Schiller met the younger Schlegel brother, 20-year-old Friedrich, at Körner’s home. The encounter left a poor impression. In a letter to Körner, Schiller described Friedrich as an “immodest and coldly witty smart aleck.” Despite this, Friedrich continued to regard Schiller as a “great man” for whom he felt “particular affection,” as he wrote to his brother. Schiller, however, maintained his reservations. He found the young man’s encyclopedic knowledge impressive but judged his conclusions hasty and disliked his mocking, ironic, and arrogant demeanor.

Philosophical Divergences and Aesthetic Revolutions

Friedrich Schlegel’s admiration for Schiller was directed more toward his character than his literary works. He critiqued Schiller’s writing as too “angular” in its emotions, overly ornate in style, and excessively contrived in plot. In his view, Schiller had regrettably descended into the “pitiable art” of stimulating curiosity, and his popularity struck Schlegel as suspect. Unlike Schiller, who sought to refine public taste through accessible yet elevated works, Friedrich aimed to provoke and challenge his readers. He shared Schiller’s desire to purify aesthetics but advocated for more radical methods.

Both Schlegel brothers were standard-bearers for a generation eager for renewal, not only in politics—as friends of the revolution—but in literature as well. They believed that the chaos of the era should be mirrored in artistic expression. Friedrich argued that creative anarchy must be introduced into literature, asserting that “anarchy… is always the mother of good revolution. Could one not expect a similarly fortunate catastrophe from the aesthetic anarchy of our time?” He relished the role of agitator, envisioning himself as a catalyst for disorder. In philosophical terms, he found Schiller insufficiently radical—a view that underwent a dramatic shift with the publication of Schiller’s On Naïve and Sentimental Poetry.

A Turning Point: Schiller’s Theoretical Influence

Schiller’s essay proved a decisive moment in Friedrich Schlegel’s intellectual development. In his own work, On the Study of Greek Poetry, Schlegel had attempted—without prior knowledge of Schiller’s treatise—to distinguish between classical and modern literature using similar conceptual frameworks. Like Schiller, he employed the dichotomy of “objective” , though he expressed a clear preference for the objective ideals of the Greeks. Upon reading Schiller’s work, however, he was electrified. In a letter to his brother dated January 15, 1796, he confessed that Schiller’s theory of sentimental poetry had so captivated him that he spent days doing little else but reading and annotating the essay. Schiller, he acknowledged, had provided significant inspiration, strengthening his resolve to refine and publish his own poetics.

This moment of convergence, however, did not erase the underlying tensions. The relationship between Schiller and the Schlegel brothers remained complex, marked by mutual respect but also by fundamental differences in aesthetic philosophy and personal temperament.

Cultural Impact and the Role of Literature

Die Horen emerged at a time when literature was becoming the dominant medium of intellectual exchange in German-speaking lands. It provided a platform for debates on aesthetics, philosophy, and politics, reflecting the broader cultural shift toward using literary forms to explore profound ideas. Schiller’s journal aimed to synthesize philosophy and poetry, arguing that art should serve as a vehicle for moral and aesthetic education. This vision aligned with the ideals of Weimar Classicism, which sought harmony, clarity, and humanistic values.

Yet the journal’s elitist reputation underscored a growing tension between intellectual elites and the broader reading public. While it featured contributions from luminaries such as Goethe, Herder, and Humboldt, its perceived insularity limited its broader cultural impact. The very ambition that drove Schiller—to create a publication that would instruct and elevate—paradoxically alienated many readers who found it inaccessible or pretentious.

Legacy and Modern Relevance

Although Die Horen ceased publication after just three years, its legacy endures. It exemplified the fraught relationship between artistic innovation and public reception, a dynamic that continues to resonate in contemporary cultural debates. The journal’s efforts to bridge philosophy and literature influenced subsequent movements, including Romanticism, which would soon eclipse the classical ideals Schiller championed.

The Schlegel brothers, despite their early associations with Die Horen, became central figures in the Romantic movement, advocating for the very principles of fragmentation, irony, and subjective expression that Schiller viewed with suspicion. Their evolving relationship with Schiller highlights the broader intellectual transitions of the era, from the Enlightenment’s emphasis on reason and order to Romanticism’s celebration of individuality and emotion.

Today, Die Horen serves as a case study in the challenges of cultural entrepreneurship. It reminds us that even the most brilliantly conceived projects must navigate the complexities of collaboration, public perception, and philosophical disagreement. Schiller’ ambition to create an “epoch-making” work may not have been fully realized in his lifetime, but the journal’s bold vision and the controversies it sparked continue to illuminate the enduring power of literature to provoke, inspire, and divide.