Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke (Review)

In the early 1900s, Franz Xaver Kappus, a 19-year-old cadet at an Austrian military academy, began corresponding with the poet, Rainer Maria Rilke. Kappus, who eventually became a military officer and writer, asked Rilke about poetry and a six-year correspondence began. Those letters became the book, Letters to a Young Poet. The book digs into what it means to live as an artist, which means it digs into philosophy and how these two individuals think about life.  

I found Letters interesting in part because—had I been in Kappus’s position—I would have written back in disagreement. Of course, peaking at the correspondence of a 27-year old and a 19-year old may have something to do with my disagreement, as age has a way of changing one’s perspective.

 The prevailing theme that ran through Rilke’s letters was a message of self: prioritize self in all facets of life. In Jonathan Haidt’s latest book, he notes his experience traveling to India on a fellowship study in India, he noted the differing values with the United States emphasizing individualism and India prioritizing the larger community. He noted that both systems have strengths and weaknesses, and my observations during and after the pandemic have led me to reevaluate the balance we strike in our country. The total emphasis on self seems to be a great driver in dissension, which heightens my criticism of Rilke’s perspective. Here are some excerpts that I would have enjoyed responding to with my own thoughts:

Here are some passages that illustrate:

The necessary thing is after all but this; solitude, great inner solitude. Going into oneself for hours meeting no one—this one must be able to attain. Why are students always so together? … This is their undoing. They can never get to themselves…Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart.

I highlight this passage despite being someone who eagerly welcomes quiet stretches of solitude to read, think, and write. Yet Rilke’s theme emphasizes a perspective that warrants some pushback.

Here is another passage that I would have challenged:

Always trust yourself and your own feeling, as opposed to argumentation, discussions, or introductions of that sort; if it turns out that you are wrong, then the natural growth of your inner life will eventually guide you to other insights.

Our feelings are important, and yet they can easily lie to us. While a very minor example, I have seldom remembered a time over the past twenty years where I really felt like exercising. But the arguments for exercising almost always win out over my fickle feelings. Of course, this example is trite when placed in the broader scope of the Rilke-Kappus discourse. Still, the broader point remains: to live a life based on self and your feelings is a likely source of long-term disappointment and frustration.

Sticking with Jonathan Haidt, in his excellent book, The Coddling of the American Mind, he lists “trust your feelings” as one of the great untruths of our times.” This point in no way minimizes the significance of our feelings, but our emotions should prompt us to evaluate and think well rather than embrace the immediacy of feelings.

Finally, there is one last passage that had me thinking about Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Rilke wrote this passage: 

I want to be usable for Christ, just as I am. 

It is a line that fits neatly with a passage that Bonhoeffer once wrote to his brother-in-law: 

·If it is I who determine where God is to be, I will always find there a God who somehow resembles me, who pleases me, who is akin to my being. 

This seems a sound counterpoint to Rilke’s comment and takes the matter back to my original point on how we should balance self-interests versus the larger community. Rilke seems to have wanted absolution for doing whatever he felt like doing. Admittedly, this short book is not enough to judge Rilke as advocating for pure selfishness. There are portions of Rilke’s writing that promote inner development and connection with others that also warrant consideration. It’s the space between the two themes that would have made it so enjoyable if I could have joined the writers’ correspondence.

Letters is a different book than what I typically read, but I enjoyed it greatly. It is a short read and thoughtful correspondence—thinking and writing that seems atypical today. The writing is lovely and thought-provoking, which makes for a welcome combination. The ideal audience seems to be anyone who likes to write and give thought to the reasons for our beliefs.