Laudator Temporis Acti

In the penultimate scene of Goethe's Faust, Part II (lines 11656-11675), Mephistopheles instructs his subordinate devils to catch the soul of Faust as it exits from his newly dead body (here in Walter Kaufmann's translation):

(To the fat devils with short, straight horns:)
Now, paunchy rascals with the fiery cheeks,
The hellish sulphur made you red and fat;
Your short block-necks have never turned; you freaks
Can watch for phosphor glow where once he sat:
That is the little soul, Psyche with wings;        11660
You pluck them out, a nasty worm is left;
I place my stamp on her, and then one flings
Her through the fiery storm into the cleft.
You watch the lower parts with care,
You bloats, and do your duty well!        11665
If she was pleased to dwell down there
Is rather more than we can tell.
And of the navel she is fond:
Be on your guard, that's where she might abscond!

(To the lean devils with long, curved horns:)
You harlequins, gigantic flugelmen,        11670
Clutch at the air, keep trying without pause!
Stretch out your arms and use your pointed claws,
And catch the fluttering fugitive again!
In that decaying house she cannot stop,
And genius always strives straight for the top.        11675

In German:

(Zu den Dickteufeln vom kurzen, graden Horne.)
Nun wanst'ge Schuften mit den Feuerbacken!
Ihr glüht so recht vom Höllenschwefel feist;
Klotzart'ge, kurze, nie bewegte Nacken!
Hier unten lauert, ob's wie Phosphor gleißt:
Das ist das Seelchen, Psyche mit den Flügeln,        11660
Die rupft Ihr aus, so ist's ein garst'ger Wurm;
Mit meinem Stempel will ich sie besiegeln,
Dann fort mit ihr im Feuerwirbelsturm!
Paßt auf die niedern Regionen,
Ihr Schläuche, das ist eure Pflicht;        11665
Ob's ihr beliebte, da zu wohnen,
So akkurat weiß man das nicht.
Im Nabel ist sie gern zu Haus,
Nehmt es in Acht sie wischt euch dort heraus.

(Zu den Dürrteufeln vom langen, krummen Horne.)
Ihr Firlefanze, flügelmänn'sche Riesen!        11670
Greift in die Luft, versucht Euch ohne Rast!
Die Arme strack, die Klauen scharf gewiesen,
Daß Ihr die Flatternde, die Flücht'ge faßt!
Es ist ihr sicher schlecht im alten Haus,
Und das Genie, es will gleich obenaus.        11675

Calvin Thomas, Goethes Faust, Vol. II: The Second Part (Boston: D.C. Heath & Co., 1909), p. 451 (on 11664-11669):

The fat devils with the straight horn do not at first obey orders, but fix their attention upon the dead man's mouth. Mephistopheles accordingly repeats his command to keep an eye on 'the lower regions' — the region of the navel. The idea that the 'bowels' are the seat of psychic life, especially of tender and sympathetic emotions, is perfectly familiar from the Bible; see, for example, Jer. xxxi, 20; Lam. i, 20; 1 John iii, 17. It is, therefore, a little far-fetched to suppose with Düntzer, that we have here an allusion to the claim of the clairvoyants to a special organ of vision located in the navel. Goethe was interested at one time in the scientific problem of locating the psychic organ; cf. Werke, H. 27, 37, where he speaks of having read and pondered over Sömmering's Versuch dem eigentlichen Site der Seele nachzuspüren. It may be added that the Gr. φρήν, φρένες, means first the diaphragm, then the parts about the heart, the breast, then the heart itself, and finally the mind. When now we remember that πνεῦμα, spiritus, anima, are simply the breath, that escapes from the mouth, we see that Mephistopheles has reason enough for his uncertainty as to the precise point where the elusive psyche may make its exit.

But maybe "the lower regions" (line 11664) are not "the region of the navel," as Thomas thought, but rather Faust's backside. On the anal egress of the soul see Valerie Allen, On Farting: Language and Laughter in the Middle Ages (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), pp. 69-70, with notes on p. 198, which I quoted in an earlier post. And cf. David Luke's translation of the relevant lines:

                                       You, the gentlemen
Resembling bladders, guard his lower parts!
Don't let our prey squeeze out there—we don't know
Exactly, but it might live where he farts;
Perhaps its whimsy takes it to do so—
Or in the navel maybe; that's a place
It likes. Watch out, or you'll be in disgrace!

Labels: noctes scatologicae