Nelly Sachs's speech at the Nobel Banquet at
the City Hall in Stockholm, December 10, 1966
(Translation)
In the summer of 1939 a German girl friend
of mine went to Sweden to visit Selma Lagerlöf, to ask her to
secure a sanctuary for my mother and myself in that country.
Since my youth I had been so fortunate as to exchange letters
with Selma Lagerlöf; and it is out of her work that my love
for her country grew. The painter-prince Eugen and the novelist
helped to save me.
In the spring of 1940, after tortuous months, we arrived in
Stockholm. The occupation of Denmark and Norway had already taken
place. The great novelist was no more. We breathed the air of
freedom without knowing the language or any person. Today, after
twenty-six years, I think of what my father used to say on every
tenth of December, back in my home town, Berlin: «Now they
celebrate the Nobel ceremony in Stockholm.» Thanks to the
choice of the Swedish Academy, I am now in the midst of that
ceremony. To me a fairy tale seems to have become reality.
In der Flucht
welch grosser Empfang
unterwegs –
Eingehüllt
in der Winde Tuch
Füsse im Gebet des Sandes
der niemals Amen sagen kann
denn er muss
von der Flosse in den Flügel
und weiter –
Der kranke Schmetterling
weiss bald wieder vom Meer –
Dieser Stein
mit der Inschrift der Fliege
hat sich mir in die Hand gegeben –
An Stelle von Heimat
halte ich die Verwandlungen der Welt –
(An English translation by Ruth and Matthew Mead appeared in Nelly Sachs' collection O the Chimneys [Farrar, Straus and Giroux, Inc., I967.)
Prior to the two speeches, Ingvar Andersson
of the Swedish Academy made the following comments: «Shmuel
Yosef Agnon, Nelly Sachs - This year's literary Prize goes to you
both with equal honour for a literary production which records
Israel's vicissitudes in our time and passes on its message to
the peoples of the world.
Mr. Agnon - In your writing we meet once again the ancient unity
between literature and science, as antiquity knew it. In one of
your stories you say that some will no doubt read it as they read
fairy tales, others will read it for edification. Your great
chronicle of the Jewish people's spirit and life has therefore a
manifold message. For the historian it is a precious source, for
the philosopher an inspiration, for those who cannot live without
literature it is a mine of never-failing riches. We honour in you
a combination of tradition and prophecy, of saga and
wisdom.
Miss Sachs - About twenty years ago, through the Swedish poet
Hjalmar Gullberg, I first learned of your fate and your work.
Since then you have lived with us in Sweden and I could talk to
you in our own language. But it is through your mother tongue
that your work reflects a historical drama in which you have
participated. Your lyrical and dramatic writing now belongs to
the great laments of literature, but the feeling of mourning
which inspired you is free from hate and lends sublimity to the
suffering of man. We honour you today as the bearer of a message
of solace to all those who despair of the fate of man.
We honour you both this evening as the laurel-crowned heroes of
intellectual creation and express our conviction that, in the
words of Alfred Nobel, you have conferred the greatest benefit on
mankind, and that you have given it clearsightedness, wisdom,
uplift, and beauty. A famous speech at a Nobel banquet - that of
William Faulkner, held in this
same hall sixteen years ago - contained an idea which he
developed with great intensity. It is suitable as a concluding
quotation which points to the future: ‹I do not believe in
the end of man.›»
From Nobel Lectures, Literature 1901-1967, Editor Horst Frenz, Elsevier Publishing Company, Amsterdam, 1969
Copyright © The Nobel Foundation 1966