Such passion locked in such compact epistolary novel. Goethe is a true romantic. He is gifted with a cunning ability to draw forth Werther's doomed passion from intricate poetic expressions to crisp punchy terseness. Dislocating himself from his romantic counterparts, Goethe seemed to have written to prove to his contemporaries that he can beg to differ in the zeitgeist where romance flourished in everything possible.
Every page is like a journey. It narrates Werther's mood beautifully - on his perspective, his predicament and how dangerous his desires can be. As much as I sympathize with his sorrows and long to set him free from desolation, I too, found myself getting consumed in anger and impatience for his overtly romantic notions. The sorrows of young Werther was laced with the early conception of Faust, our dear Faust, but in a complete paradox. Werther threw himself into the depths of darkness, burned in passion but one could still emphatize with his fate. While Faust who seemed to have inherited Werther's haughtiness and intelligence, amplified them to mock Fate and religion. Although both protagonists were wasted away because of their longing for the forbidden, they still maintain individual views on self-control and destiny on very different angles.
Goethe's flexibility is by no means docile because one could read his work and immediately identify its proprietor. And my admiration towards Goethe grows because he is a romantic, a poet, a dramatist. He's able to draw emotions from me and weave them into his narration creating a space where reality melds beautifully into fiction. I am definitely a romantic convert.
Look for it here!