In 1782 Johann von Goethe wrote a poem about a mythic king (The Erl King). This poem has lingered in the minds of many artists since it was written. Shubert set the poem to music as a German lied during the Nineteenth Century. More recently, the folk singer and songwriter, Steve Gillette, wrote a song to accompany the poem. This “folk song” attained some popularity during the 1960s. I became acquainted with the poem through Gillette’s version when I was a young man of 27, working on my doctorate in psychology. Since that time my own taste in music has changed several times and the era of folk music is now nothing more than a piece of nostalgia for most men over Fifty years of age. Yet, the song of the Erl King has continued to haunt me. I have played an old taped version of the song many times on the cassette player in my car and have often pondered about why this song and, in particular, the poem contained in the lyrics, has such a hold on me.
Fifteen years ago, I began to write a book about men and women between Fifty and Sixty years of age with my colleagues, Elinor Greenberg and Alan Klaum. At the time I was in my late Forties. I began working on this book in preparation for what lay ahead in my life. My two colleagues served as guides for me. They were both in their late Fifties at the time. I learned from them and from the seventy-three interviews that my graduate students conducted with a highly diverse group of people in this age range. Yet, I was still puzzled about what the Erl King poem meant for me.
I like to tell my friends that I write books to avoid living through the transitions and transformations that I describe in these publications. I claim that I have a contract with God, stating that I don’t have to live through anything I write about. Unfortunately, “God” didn’t keep up with her half of the bargain when it came to the Fifties book, or most of my other books for that matter. I have personally lived through virtually every developmental dilemma, life and career transition, and personal transformation that Alan, Eli and I described in our Fifties book. Given my own personal experience, Greenberg, Klaum and I seemed to have done a good job of describing the many changes I went through in my life. I found that the words we wrote were comforting and helpful to me in confronting many of my own midlife issues. Yet, it is a very different matter to live through these changes than to just write about them. I decided that I needed to write a second book without the assistance of any other authors. This book would build on some of my own personal experiences and insights. I would also reflect on the experiences of the late midlife men whom I coach and to whom I consult. This will insure, hopefully, that my own experiences and insights can be generalized to other mature men.
The key to this decision was the startling set of revelations that have come from the Erl King poem. It is as if a dream suddenly became clear to me. I sense that I am now ready to hear what the poem has to say to me. Undoubtedly, many valid interpretations of this deceptively simple poem are available; however, I believe the Erl King speaks directly to issues that men of our society must confront during the late middle decades of life (ages 50-75). Each time I now replay the Gillette recording, listen to Schubert’s even more dramatic lied or reread the Goethe poem, I discover new depths in the work and new images of my own life—past, present and future.
The Man of Autumn
This book concerns a broad swath in the life of 21st Century men. While other books on adult development—including the one I co-authored during the 1990s—tend to focus on a specific decade of life (such as the 40s or 50s), this book concerns a span of 25 years. I believe that this book is relevant to men throughout this quarter century of life.
Given this broad scope, I am faced with two major challenges. The most important challenge concerns finding themes that are relevant for the 50 year old male who is in the midst of his life and career—and that are relevant to the 75 year old male who is much closer to the end of his life and holds quite different perspectives regarding his life and career. I believe that I have identified some deeply-seated themes that hopefully provide insight and guidance to both of these men. It is up to you, the reader, to decide if I have been successful in this endeavor.
The second challenge is not as daunting—though it is more immediate. What do I call this extended phase in the life of mature men? I could be precise and refer to this as the time in life when men are 50 to 75 years old. I could truncate this rather awkward descriptor and simply talk about men in late mid-life. I decided, however, to use a term that is a bit more lyrical. I will refer to these as the autumnal years (the years of Autumn) and identify these 50-75 years old men as “autumnal males” and the “men of Autumn.”
Why use this less precise term? Perhaps I use this term because I live in a region of North America where Autumn is very special. No one living in New England can even declare that the beauty and vivid presence of autumnal colors is somehow less than the colors of summer or that Autumn is merely a prelude to Winter. There is another reason for speaking of the autumnal male. I am basing my analysis on a poetic image—the Erl King. While I can’t possibly match the poetic power of Goethe, I can at least play in the same park as Goethe by offering my own image of late mid-life men living out their own Autumn—the time of life after the full abundance of Summer, yet preceding the inevitable decline of Winter. Given these reasons and sources of inspiration I lay claim to the Men of Autumn and the Autumnal years of life.
The Erl King
By Johann von Goethe
Who rides there so late through the night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He holds the boy clasped in his arms.
He holds him securely. He keeps him warm.
“My son, why is your face covered up in fear?”
“Father, can you not see the Erl King.
The elfin king with crown and train?”
“My son, it’s only the rising mist.”
“Come now, my child, Do come with me!
I’ll play very fine games with thee.
There are many beautiful flowers by the shore.
My mother shall grace thee with garments of gold.”
“Father, my father, can you not hear?
Promises the Erl King has whispered in my ear?”
“Be calm, stay calm my dearest child.
Tis nothing but wind rustling leaves that are dead.”
“My handsome boy, won’t you come with me?
My daughters will serve you well, with sisterly care.
My daughters will dance round thee, all night in a ring.
They’ll cradle thee, and dance with thee and sing thee to sleep.”
A5
“My father, my father can you not see?
The Erl King’s daughters linger in that dark place?”
“My son, my son, I see it clearly.
It’s the aged willow that looks so gray.”
“I love thee. Your beautiful form entices me!
And if you are unwilling, then I will use force.”
“My father, my father, he has taken hold of me.
The Erl King has done me great harm.”
The father shudders. He rides fast.
He holds the groaning child in his arms.
The father finally reaches home in toil and travail.
In his arms the child was dead.
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This translation of The Erl King is a blending of six different translations. I have chosen to provide a rather literal translation. This means that the poem lacks a lyrical structure, which is unfortunate, given that this poem in German is considered to be quite lyrical, and has been the inspiration for several different composers. I encourage the reader to read several more poetic renderings of The Erl King to gain a feel for the lyricism of this poem.
In essence, Goethe’s poem about the Erl King concerns a man who is journeying on a windy night holding his cherished son. A mythic figure—an elfin lord called the “Erl King”—appears to his son, but is not seen by the father. The Erl King tries to lure away the son with promises of riches, beauty, lovely and attentive women, and, ultimately, the threat of physical force. The father keeps brushing aside the son’s concerns about the Erl King’s presence, dismissing the Erl King as a figment of his son’s imagination. Eventually, as the Erl King threatens physical force, the son cries out that the elfin lord has taken hold of him. At this point, the father seems to take the threat seriously He holds the now groaning child in his arms and races home. However, it is too late. When he arrives home, the father discovers that the cherished son he holds so tightly in his arms is dead.
In one’s initial reading of this poem, the tragedy is profound. The poem speaks of a dying child and a father who is too late in recognizing the threat to his son. The sorrow and regret must be unbearable for the father. There is nothing more difficult to confront then the death of one’s own child. I know of a Korean man who lost a daughter. He cites a Korean saying that “we bury our spouse in the ground, but our child in our heart.” There is no way in which one resolves profound grief attending the death of a child. Friends of mine who have lost children never stop grieving.
Imagine in this case, how the father must feel, having ignored his child’s repeated pleas for attentive care. He thought the Erl King was nothing more than mist or dead leaves rustling in the wind!
At another level, I believe this is no longer a poem about a specific man at midlife. I propose that every male entering the Autumnal decades of life is represented in this poem. The child in our protagonist’s arms represents certain aspects of himself that are central to his being as a man in late midlife. These aspects of the father are being ignored because they are painful for the father to acknowledge. The man in the poem of the Erl King is not alone in this regard. Many men in their Autumnal years choose to ignore certain aspects of their psyche (or selfhood) because they find these aspects to be frightening or the potential source of painful insight and suffering. Like the father in Goethe’s poem, many mature men want neither to acknowledge these aspects of self nor address the implications of threats associated with these aspects of self.
The Erl King offers several temptations that both lure and threaten the son. These same temptations lure and threaten the unacknowledged aspects of our psyche. Yet, we continue to ignore these aspects, choosing instead to dismiss them as figments of our imagination—as nothing more than fantasies and dreams. The outcome of this denial in Goethe’s poem is the death of the child. For mature men this denial can lead to the death of valuable aspects of their psyche. The Erl King poses a major challenge for the men of Autumn. He forces mature men to acknowledge and care for the child. We must tend to the child that is frightened and wounded within us; acknowledging and caring for those aspects of ourselves that are being tempted and threatened by many forces operating within and outside ourselves.
Why This Book?
I have written this book in part for myself. The process of writing about late midlife transformations among men has helped me document the insights I gained about myself during the sixth and seventh decades of life and the changes that are currently occurring in my life. The poem of the Erl King has helped me probe more deeply into these insights and bring them forth in a more tangible form. I have also written this book for the significant people in my life. The Erl King helps me tell them the story of transformations in my life. As I note again in one of the last chapters in this book, one of our greatest challenges as males in our 50s, 60s and 70s is to explain to other people what we have learned, and how and why we have changed. This book hopefully aids my own efforts at describing these transformations. I would be even more pleased if it also helps other Autumnal males communicate their own distinctive stories in a clearer and more compelling manner to the people they love.
In essence, this book is for and about men who are now or soon will be between Fifty and Seventy Five years of age. It is about what I have learned from my experiences during the sixth and seventh decades of my life. At its heart, this book is about the intricate relationship between a father, a son and a mythic elfin king. Goethe’s poem of the Erl King, written more than two hundred years ago, speaks eloquently and deeply to the Autumnal decades in the lives of men. I welcome your own exploration of this poem and its lyrical description of a transforming late
midlife journey.