Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 177 Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste- Hülshoff’s Judenbuche Vance Byrd Grinnell College Abstract: This article focuses on paratextual relations in the periodical edition of Annette von Droste-Hülshoff’s (1797-1848) Die Judenbuche (1842)� The first sections of the essay theorize how paratextual relations structure the experience of reading periodical literature. Then it demonstrates how epigraphs, brief excerpts found in the masthead of every issue of Hauff’s Morgenblatt für gebildete Leser , link seemingly unrelated texts. It argues that these connections reinforce a literary repertoire which elevates the quality of the periodical and cultivates subscribers. These epigraphs not only outline the contours of a legitimate intellectual field. It proposes that the use of epigraphs is a response to the unwieldy textual thickness of the periodical’s printed page and installment structure. These brief quotations from European literature bring up to speed readers and provide a framework for engagement with the current issue� An analysis of these connections demonstrates their importance for understanding plot, theme, and character development in Droste-Hülshoff’s Die Judenbuche insofar as they foreground morality, the proper education of children, as well as the dangers of excessive pride. This article concludes that it is precisely in their dual functions as guarantors of narrative coherence and as producers of a discursive field that close attention to epigraphs is crucial for scholars of periodical literature. Keywords: Annette von Droste-Hülshoff, Die Judenbuche , serial publication, periodical literature, epigraphs, paratextuality On April 4, 1842, Levin Schücking presented Hermann Hauff an advanced copy of Annette von Droste-Hülshoff’s “Ein Sittengemälde aus dem gebirgigten Westphalen” for publication in the Morgenblatt für gebildete Leser , a serial published by the J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung in Stuttgart. 1 Published daily except for 178 Vance Byrd Sundays, the Morgenblatt integrated reading into the everyday routines of its subscribers. In the editor’s view, the Morgenblatt directed attention away from political news after Prussia’s defeat against Napoleon at Jena and Auerstedt ( MB 1.3 [1807]: 9), 2 while avoiding the escape luxury and consumption fashion journals offered ( MB 1.4 [1807]: 13). Unlike a newspaper, Cotta’s Zeitschrift did not cover current events. Instead, the daily paper aimed to cultivate the German literary seeds sowed by Schiller ( MB 1.3 [1807]: 9). Reading a poem or an article about aesthetics, philosophy, or religion should become a morning ritual that prepared readers for the day ahead ( MB 1.1 [1807]: 2). When Hermann Hauff assumed editorial responsibility in 1828, the period in which the publishing house was important for the dissemination of German philosophy and classical literature had largely passed. 3 Hauff reported that commitment of prominent German intellectuals and writers was on the wane: “Originalbeiträge waren selten, der Hauptbestandtheil Uebersetzungen.” The supplements for art and literary criticism, he contended, had grown more popular than the main periodical ( MB 59.52 [1865]: 1230). 4 In light of declining subscriptions, Hauff decided to strengthen the periodical’s focus on original German literary contributions for his readers. The editor gave word of his approval to Droste- Hülshoff two days later: “Die mir gütigst mitgetheilte Erzählung behalte ich mit Vergnügen, obgleich dieselbe etwa zwei Bogen unseres Formats füllen wird” ( HKA V,2: 207)� 5 Hauff’s comment about the number and format of printed sheets needed to publish Droste-Hülshoff’s story can be understood as an editor’s practical awareness of how the entire printed page related to other material scheduled to appear in the journal issue� Yet these editorial decisions also transformed the stories published in the journal. When Droste-Hülshoff completed “Ein Sittengemälde aus dem gebirgigten Westphalen” in the summer of 1840, her story about Friedrich Mergel’s involvement in the murders of a forester and a Jew had a relatively closed narrative form. The manuscript’s unity was lost when Hauff divided the story for serial publication. He published Droste-Hülshoff’s novella, which he renamed Die Judenbuche , in sixteen installments that appeared daily from April 22 until May 10, 1842. Unlike serial literature by Balzac or Dickens, the single installments Hauff created could no longer stand alone as an independent story� 6 Instead, a new liminal relationship emerged between other texts in the journal issues, making this story an example of periodical literature worthy of closer examination� Annette von Droste-Hülshoff paid close attention to how the textual thickness of the heterogeneous printed matter contained in each journal issue affected her story. Her correspondence with editors, friends, and family members documents how nineteenth-century writers felt the pressures of publishing pe- Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 179 riodical literature in a rapidly expanding and commercializing literary market, in which emergent notions of professional authorship were linked to innovative printing processes and publication form (cf. Peters). In a letter sent to her friend and literary intermediary Schücking after the final installment, she notes: “ich [fand] den Effekt[,] wo ich ihn nicht suchte, und umgekehrt […] - es ist mir eine Lehre für die Zukunft, und mir viel werth die Wirkung des Drucks kennen gelernt zu haben” ( HKA V,2: 208). For her part, Droste-Hülshoff had wanted to publish Die Judenbuche within a lengthier book on Westphalia, based on Washington Irving’s Bracebridge Hall (1822). Despite considerable efforts, neither this collection nor Die Judenbuche appeared as a book in her lifetime. The character that the publication in the periodical had and the effects that so astonished the author were removed from subsequent book editions beginning with Letzte Gaben. Nachgelassene Blätter (1860). For many of us, the book edition is the only way we know this story� Rather than suppose conclusive answers to questions of guilt and innocence to which the scholarship on the novella has paid much attention, this article focuses on how the composition of the printed page in its original publication form helps us understand Droste-Hülshoff’s story. The author and editor paid close attention to how the textual thickness of the heterogeneous printed matter contained in installments affected the narrative. The spatial organization of synchronous texts in the journal issues raises questions about examining Die Judenbuche in terms of a predetermined hierarchy in a linear or temporal manner (cf. Kaminski et al. 24—25, 32). This examination of the serial publication of Annette von Droste-Hülshoff’s novella in Hauff’s Morgenblatt applies a particular reading practice, in which these spatial and temporal thresholds are interrogated. Indeed, this article is indebted to Gérard Genette’s typologies which describe how paratextual elements “[belong] to the text, […] surround it and extend it, precisely in order to present it” (1). 7 Genette asked literary scholars to acknowledge the heterogeneity of printed material and its evolution “depending on period, culture, genre, author, work, and edition” (3). In his view, certain paratexts have an “intermittent” status and are constantly evolving as new book editions of the text are published (6). Like the work of Nicola Kaminski, Nora Ramtke, and Carsten Zelle, this article seeks to modify Genette’s book-oriented terminology so that it suits the intermittent character and publication format of periodical literature� This article cannot elaborate the typologies needed to capture the complexity of paratextual relations in nineteenth-century periodicals. Instead, it takes a more modest approach� It includes a selection of articles and supplements from volumes thirty-five and thirty-six of Hauff’s Morgenblatt , the issues in which Die 180 Vance Byrd Judenbuche appeared. It examines epigraphs, textual elements easily dispensed of in book editions. An epigraph appeared in every issue of the Morgenblatt für gebildete Leser . In this publication, the epigraph is part of an ensemble of peritexts, which are textual conventions with which the periodical presents itself to the reader. The epigraph was located between the masthead at the top of the page, which consisted of the issue number, journal title, and date. The main articles, which all these peritexts frame, are found in two-columns immediately below (see image 1). 8 Image 1. The masthead of Hauff’s Morgenblatt für gebildete Leser with a Shakespeare epigraph and first installment of Droste-Hülshoff’s Die Judenbuche ( MB 36.96 [1842]: 381). Droste-Hülshoff’s concern that her story would be judged based on the texts that surrounded it was warranted. The first sections of this essay make clear that paratextual relations of all kinds structure the experience of reading periodical literature. When we turn our attention specifically to epigraphs, we note that they establish thematic links to seemingly unrelated texts in this periodical. On the one hand, these textual connections reinforce a literary repertoire which elevates the quality of the periodical and cultivates subscribers. Not only do epigraphs outline the contours of a legitimate intellectual field, the use of epigraphs in the masthead was a response to the unwieldy textual thickness of the printed page and installments. Less conspicuous than other paratexts, such as annotations, parenthetical references to previous issues, and markers for continuations and conclusions, epigraphs bring up to speed readers who did not recall themes raised in a previous installment and these brief excerpts provide a framework for engagement with the current issue. While their foregrounding of morality, the proper education of children, as well as the dangers of excessive pride illustrate how epigraphs relate to plot, theme, and character development in Droste-Hülshoff’s hermeneutically dark story, it is their dual function as guarantors of narrative coherence and as producers of a discursive field that is most valuable for scholars of periodical literature. Although Droste-Hülshoff had published short forms like poetry in Hauff’s Morgenblatt , Die Judenbuche would be her first and only lengthier prose work published in the periodical. 9 Droste-Hülshoff’s letters suggest that the author was concerned with how a journal issue established a textual economy that could impact her standing as a writer in the literary community. She wrote to Schücking on May 4, 1842, the day the eleventh installment appeared, that little space remained for other writers in the four-page issues. The author feared that the expansiveness of her story might lead to animosity from other contributors who want to see their work in print: […] und dann füttert [das Morgenblatt] seit 10-12 Tagen sein Publikum so unbarmherzig mit meiner Erzählung […] daß alle Dichter, die sich gedruckt sehen möchten mich verwünschen müssen, denn ich und noch ein andrer Prosaist haben vorläufig das Blatt unter uns getheilt, und werden wohl in diesem ganzen Monat auch nicht ein fremdes Hälmchen aufkommen lassen. ( HKA V,2: 208) We may never know whether her contemporary competitors liked the attention given to her story. There was little critical response when it was first published. We might conclude that much of the Morgenblatt and its supplements published in April and May 1842 did not contain obvious connections to Droste-Hülshoff’s tale. Yet the writer’s correspondence challenges such assumptions. She con- Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 181 182 Vance Byrd tinued to read the Morgenblatt and comment on how her recently published story related to other essays appearing in the periodical. Droste-Hülshoff was quite concerned about how proximity to F. G. Kohl’s “Die Judenstadt in Prag” (1842), a short text concerning Jewish emancipation published shortly after Die Judenbuche , might lead to unfavorable judgment of her own tale ( HKA V,2: 209)� Martha Helfer is the only scholar to have taken under consideration the original publication form of Droste-Hülshoff’s novella in Hauff’s Morgenblatt and its relation to other texts published in the journal. Helfer argues that Die Judenbuche is “a profoundly anti-Semitic text” (228), in which Droste-Hülshoff’s stereotypical portrayal of Jews relates to the issues of Jewish emancipation and assimilation in nineteenth-century Germany. In her analysis, the narrative’s indeterminacy is linked to Droste-Hülshoff’s uneasiness about the veiled identity of assimilated Jews in Christian society. How can you tell if someone is really a Jew? Her excellent close reading suggests that ambivalence is what is important: “the mere suggestion that he [Friedrich] may be a Jew is what is really at stake” (Helfer 247). Apart from her analyzing “the semantic network of etymologies, ellipses, and allusions” (232), Helfer suggests that we read together Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche and Kohl’s “Die Judenstadt in Prag,” texts which appeared issues apart, because these two stories share an anti-Semitic undercurrent that can be confirmed when an epigraph from the Morgenblatt masthead, lines taken from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice , is carefully examined (249)� In so doing, Helfer demonstrates the importance of the original printed edition to confirm the ideological force that guides the story. Although it was not Helfer’s main concern in the article, this connection illustrates how literature first printed in periodicals may have meaningful peritextual (epigraph) and paratextual (Kohl’s text) relations in the original publication, which are eliminated from subsequent book editions. By discarding this textual material, one loses a sense of how latent and overt anti-Semitism is embedded in the entire periodical, not just in one story� If Helfer identified anti-Semitic sentiment in Kohl’s “Die Judenstadt in Prag,” we might ask whether other parts of the periodical provide further evidence for such an undercurrent. An article from an earlier issue is even more abhorrent. The presence of an additional paratext in the newspaper edition leads the way to this evidence. Hauff’s annotation in the first installment of “Die Judenstadt in Prag” encourages the reader to compare the story to “Wanderungen in Prag” ( MB 36.116 [1842]: 461). (How else would you know to read a story that had been published two years ago in a daily newspaper without such an annotation? ) Both essays depict one of the largest Jewish communities in 1840s Europe. “Die Wanderungen in Prag” (1840) opens as a historical account of the destruction of Israel, tells how the Jews arrived in Bohemia, and provides lengthy comparisons of contemporary Jewish life in the Prague and Frankfurt am Main ghettos. While the preliminaries have the character of a rather matter-of-fact historical overview, its commentary about assimilation in Prague, where the absence of “Gebräuchen, Benehmen und Kleidung” is common, is highly anti-Semitic in character ( MB 34.276 [1840]: 1101-02). The article goes on to characterize the “Gestalt und Gesichtsbildung” of Central European Jews, whose most positive attribute is that they are almost too human: “[S]ie besitzen für Juden viel Gemüth.” The exceptional character of these “honest,” assimilated Jews is exemplified by their aversion to cutting out the hearts of Christians and eating them ( MB 34.277 [1840]: 1107). The Bible, the article continues, is the only thing that is not filthy in their synagogues ( MB 34.277 [1840]: 1110). In contrast to the invective from “Die Wanderungen in Prag,” “Die Judenstadt in Prag,” the article on which Droste-Hülshoff and Helfer focus their attention, provides statistical information about Jews and describes the synagogue and the streets of the Jewish ghetto in a less inflammatory manner. A discussion of Jewish burial rituals and gravestones serves to tell the history of the Jewish community and its institutions in Prague. Reforms and charismatic Rabbis have made religious services appealing to non-Jews. Jewish life is acceptable, in the Morgenblatt ’s account, when it is most inclusive and comfortable for Christians (cf� MB 36.120 [1842]: 477-78). This brief excursus illustrates what happens when we pay close attention to Droste-Hülshoff’s Die Judenbuche as an example of installment literature surrounded by paratextual elements that precede, neighbor, and follow her story, all of which help us constitute the unexpected effects we encounter when reading the entire page of periodicals. It has always been challenging to read Die Judenbuche due to the narrative’s indeterminacy but also due to the wealth of material that frames it. Droste-Hülshoff’s twenty-five-year compositional process created an expansive textual corpus - at least eight manuscript versions - with which we can examine the evolution of Friedrich Mergel’s story. I have argued elsewhere for an interpretive approach that includes these prior manuscript versions (Byrd 361-63). The Niemeyer edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s works, which compiles archival material such as manuscript versions and letters in its critical apparatus, is a valuable resource for such studies. However, Walter Huge’s documentation volume in the Niemeyer edition excludes the story in its original periodical context. The present article, by contrast, addresses the shortcomings of exclusive reliance on stand-alone book editions by returning to Droste-Hülshoff’s story as it appeared in installments in Hauff’s Morgenblatt � Serial publication creates new challenges for interpretation because the printed page introduces even more textual material that could be drawn upon for interpretation or disregard. The Morgenblatt provided its readers with a variety Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 183 184 Vance Byrd of subject matter for these textual encounters. Hermann Hauff observed in the periodical’s final issue in 1865 that his newspaper had focused on short literary forms, especially epigrams and poems ( MB 59.52 [1865]: 1228). Indeed, an issue of the Morgenblatt often featured a single or series of stand-alone poems or the beginning of a lengthier one, which would be completed in a future installment. In addition to these short texts, the solution to a puzzle or the announcement of a new one would be revealed at the lower right section of an issue’s fourth page before information about the supplements delivered within an issue is listed. These short forms filled in gaps between the texts that occupied most of an issue’s columns: the main articles and news reports. Main articles occupy much of a given four-page, two-columned newspaper issue. The brevity of publication form to which Hauff refers and a newspaper’s heterogeneity are achieved by the installment publication of several longer texts� Die Judenbuche appeared in alteration between Hermann Hauff’s appeal for drama reform titled “Briefe über das Schauspiel” and the German diplomat Alfred von Reumont’s account “Rom im Winter.” Droste-Hülshoff’s fiction appeared between drama theory and travel literature, but author attribution to her work functioned as a continuation, as well. Her name, “Annette E. Freiin von Droste zu Hülshoff,” and the story’s introductory poem were familiar signs to subscribers who had encountered her poetry on occasion in issues of the periodical in the year 1842. As a regular named contributor that year, Droste- Hülshoff’s name and poetry was a thread that cut through these heterogeneous main articles and issue numbers. These texts by Droste-Hülshoff entered into a dialogue with other contributions from 1842, which include Freiligrath’s translations of poems by the English poet Felicia Hemans; articles on art galleries on the Danube; descriptions of otherworldly events such as clairvoyance, speaking in tongues, and magnetism; scientific reports on comets and other topics from astronomy; and travel literature on Bohemia, Rome, and Turkey. To this heterogeneous content, the final section of each issue of the Morgenblatt was dedicated to “Korrespondenz-Nachrichten.” These short news reports and reviews of events in European cities lent the periodical a newspaper-like topicality not found in the issue’s literary installments, poems, or scientific articles� 10 Correspondents from London, Prague, Paris, and a host of German cities reported on European innovation in theater, literature, architecture, new monuments, infrastructure projects, and means of transportation. Frequent reading of this section of the periodical resulted in a chronicle of city life lengthier and more varied than the narrative worlds established by the main articles, short stories, or poems. Reports on Berlin, for example, appeared across several issue numbers, sometimes with longer temporal interruptions, and without author attribution ( MB 36.16-21 [1842], 36.38-42 [1842], 36.63-68 [1842], 36.91-92 [1842], 36.116-120 [1842], 36.135-139 [1842], 36.167-172 [1842], 36.191-194 [1842], 36.215-216 [1842], 36.219 [1842], 36.252-256 [1842], 36.287-290 [1842], 36.295-298 [1842]). Here, rather than a piece of installment literature by a single author, a sense of continuity and coherence was assured by the location from which correspondents reported� Apart from reoccurring authors, genres, and subject matter, paratexts frame heterogeneous elements and aid the decipherment of a newspaper issue. The editor and publisher - perhaps in consultation with the writer - also determined a periodical’s paratexts. Indicators for continuations and conclusions of periodical installments are the most common examples� Continuation in a future issue, “Fortsetzung folgt,” is marked at the bottom of a column; a conclusion by the word “Schluß.” Whereas I suggested that a series of poems by Droste-Hülshoff over several months or the recurrence of news reports from a city aid a reader in making sense out of a lengthier periodical run, annotations and parenthetical reference to previous issues serve as precise reading aids for the serial publication: “Ich habe die Leser am Schlusse der vorigen Abtheilung dieser Arbeit bei Betrachtung unseres Mondes verlassen, und muß hier darauf zurückkommen” ( MB 36.21 [1842]: 81). This introductory sentence to this main article would only be necessary for publication in a newspaper or journal; the reference to the previous year’s issues, “s. Nro. 237-240, 1841,” instruct old and new readers how to locate previous material and compare it to the newest astronomical findings published in the current number of the periodical ( MB 36.21 [1842]: 81). In a similar manner, the periodical instructs readers to compare the original Uhland poem “Das Schloß am Meere” to the English ( MB 36.56 [1842]: 221-22) and the French translations ( MB 35.66 [1841]: 261-62), which appeared juxtaposed in separate issues� Parenthetical reference found directly under the article titles fulfill the same function elsewhere: Uhland’s “Die verlorene Kirche” appeared in French ( MB 35.67 [1841]: 266-68) and in English ( MB 35.291 [1841]: 1161-62). Paratextual conventions can also signal whether installment character was merely provisional. Publication plans did change. The Korrespondenz-Nachrichten “Aus Oesterreichischen-Schlesien” appear to conclude, “(Schluß.),” in January 1842 ( MB 36.14 [1842]: 56). The editors resumed publication of these reports again for unexplained reasons a month later and annotations refer the reader back to where the reports had previously ended, “(S. Nr. 12-14 d. J.)” ( MB 36.35 [1842]: 140). In another instance, positive reader response was given as the reason for the continuation of the articles titled “Bilder aus dem Soldatenleben im Frieden.” As a continuation, the installments demanded a certain degree of familiarity with the content of previously published issues: “In der Fortsetzung, die wir hiemit beginnen, wird der Gegenstand in derselben muntern, lebendigen Weise behandelt. […] Die aus dem ersten Abschnitt bekannten militärischen Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 185 186 Vance Byrd Charaktere treten auch hier auf” ( MB 36.57 [1842]: 225). To follow the continuation, readers had to refer to previous issues, as well. Alternatively, the Morgenblatt ’s monthly register provided subscribers and other readers with title and author information for the approximately one-hundred pages of each publication Cotta had already delivered. The register included the contents of the Literaturblatt and Kunstblatt , as well, although subscription preferences determined whether these periodicals would be read alongside its companion publications. The editors of periodicals established conventions to structure how subscribers read literature in their publications. Parenthetical references, annotations, and monthly registers function as signposts for the decipherment of the excessive amount of unrelated heterogeneous textual material found in a newspaper or journal issue. These conventions provide a sense of thematic unity while reinforcing the spatial and temporal interruptions inherent to reading a serial publication. Epigraphs - one of the shortest textual forms Hauff included in the Morgenblatt - were an essential element for structuring the periodical’s reading experience and establishing coordinates for interpretation of the publication form’s many texts. An epigraph is generally understood to be a word or phrase that introduces a book or portion thereof. Epigraphs were paratexts determined by the editor or publisher (typically after consulting with the main text’s author) that came from the fine arts and literature, philosophy, the natural sciences, and politics. Apart from formal or intellectual domains of knowledge, epigraphs could be proverbs or old sayings. Quotations from classical antiquity and biblical sources were used as epigraphs in German literature starting in the seventeenth century; the opening quotation by Horace in Martin Opitz’s Buch von der Deutschen Poeterey (1624) is considered one of the first epigraphs in German literature (Antonsen 32-33). By the eighteenth century, epigraphs from ancient Greek and Roman writers and thinkers and the Bible were the exception, and by the first half of the nineteenth century, epigraphs mainly from English, French, Italian, and German sources appeared in German publications (Antonsen 36-38). Notable nineteenth-century German writers, such as Jean Paul, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Achim von Arnim, Wilhelm Raabe, Heinrich Heine, and Friedrich Nietzsche, made use of epigraphs in their works. In the issues in which Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche was first published, Hauff selected epigraphs from works written by William Shakespeare ( Henry IV, part 2 ; Romeo and Juliet ; Hamlet ; Julius Caesar ; Merchant of Venice ), Johann Gottfried Herder (“Ueber die Wirkung der Dichtkunst auf die Sitten der Völker”), Terence ( Adelphoe ), Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ( Hermann und Dorothea ), George Crabbe (“Smugglers and Poachers” from Tales of the Hall ), Juvenal ( Satires ), Pierre Corneille ( Le Cid ), Julius Krais (“Ulrich von Hutten”), and Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (“Ein verkleinertes Bild seines Gedankenlebens”). The epigraphs taken from these works appear as oneto seven-line excerpts without quotation marks in the original English, French, German, Italian, and Latin except for Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice , which appears in German translation� As is typical of epigraphs, they stand alone: the quoted works and authors do not reappear in each issue’s main articles. Lines from Goethe’s Hermann und Dorothea , for example, do not precede a poem or the first installment of a short story by the author; one finds the sixth installment of Die Judenbuche instead ( MB 36.101 [1842]: 401). Author and work attributions for epigraphs may not necessarily be accurate or authentic (Genette 147). Writers and editors have been known to invent epigraphs or quote themselves (Gläser 262). For example, Friedrich Haug, who edited the Morgenblatt in the years 1811-17, attributed epigraphs to famous writers even though he wrote the quotations himself on occasion ( MB 59.52 [1865]: 1229)� 11 The issues examined in this article do not have autographic epigraphs of any kind (cf. Genette 151). Neither Droste-Hülshoff nor Hermann Hauff created epigraphs for the publication. Both author and title of the epigraphs are not always given; and this information never appears in the periodical’s monthly register. Although authors are attributed in individual issues, only the epigraphs from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar and Hamlet , as well as Crabbe’s “Smugglers and Poachers” appear with work attribution. To be clear, the epigraphs in the Morgenblatt edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Die Judenbuche are para textual rather than inter textual elements. Genette defines intertextuality as “the literal presence of one text within another,” as a form of quotation� 12 This form of citation is found throughout the story’s main text. Although religious epigraphs are absent from her text, biblical intertextual references play a prominent role in her story. The prologue poem’s lines about judgment draw from several New and Old Testament sources. “Laß ruhn den Stein - er trifft dein eignes Haupt,” for example, refers to the Gospel of John 8: 7, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone” ( HKA V,1: 3)� 13 Later, when Simon Semmler attempts to manipulate Friedrich Mergel, who wants to confess his sins after being interrogated about the forester’s murder, he intentionally misquotes “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor” from the Book of Exodus 20: 16: “Denk an die zehn Gebote: du sollst kein Zeugniß ablegen gegen deinen Nächsten.” - “Kein falsches! ” - “Nein, gar keines; du bist schlecht unterrichtet; wer einen andern in der Beichte anklagt, der empfängt das Sakrament unwürdig” ( HKA V,1: 25). In response to Samuel’s account of the circumstances that led to her husband Aaron’s murder, his widow exclaims, Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 187 188 Vance Byrd “Aug um Auge, Zahn um Zahn,” a quotation from Leviticus 24: 20, the law of retaliation ( HKA V,1: 31)� 14 By contrast, the story’s most famous quotation, “Wenn du dich diesem Orte nahest, so wird es dir ergehen, wie du mir gethan hast” ( MB 36.111 [1842]: 443), the Hebrew phrase inscribed into the beech tree, is neither an intertext nor a paratext. The words were inspired by Droste-Hülshoff’s uncle August von Haxthausen’s Geschichte des Algierer Sklaven (1818), one of the sources she used to write Die Judenbuche . A German phrase was invented by the author and is thought to have been translated into Hebrew by the surgeon Alexander Haindorf ( HKA V,2: 243). The Hebrew inscription in the beech tree is an element of the story’s meaning that testifies to the periodical’s seriality and conventions for building suspense in the narrative. It functions much like the other puzzles in the Morgenblatt , which hold the reader’s attention: the German translation of the warning in Hebrew appears three issues apart ( MB 36.108 [1842]: 430; MB 36.111 [1842]: 443). Shedding seriality with book publication transforms the nature of this anticipation, but the phrase itself cannot be eliminated without removing its ambiguous warning, which could be directed at members of the Jewish community or could function as a curse for gentiles who do not observe Aaron’s memory. The original context and meaning are important for the selection and interpretation of intertexts and paratexts. Each intertextual reference belongs to distinctive moments of creative production and spatial relations on the printed page. Intertexts are integral to the integrity of the story. The biblical references mentioned above were selected by the author as she wrote the main narrative. As textual elements woven synchronously into the story at the moment of its origination, their elimination in future editions would be akin to the abridgment of the entire work� An epigraph, by contrast, is less integrated into the fabric of a story. Jan Erik Antonsen writes that an epigraph is typically not the occasion for writing; it is usually selected after the completion of a text (43). Once inserted into a given text, an epigraph is an isolated island with its own meaning because it has been decontextualized from its original source, a feature it shares with intertextual elements. However, an epigraph is much more ambiguous because it does not have a well-defined function within its adopted text. It stands temporally and spatially apart from all the texts surrounding it (11, 20-21, 45). In terms of reception, readers can ignore or interpret an epigraph; some epigraphs were selected to address only a segment of the reading market (cf. Genette 4). For cases in which readers may be unfamiliar with the author or work or do not possess the proficiency to read an untranslated quotation, it is left up to the reader to decipher its origins or simply to ignore it (Genette 153). As such, indeterminacy of function and reception is a defining feature of epigraphs. When readers take notice of and use an epigraph to make sense of a text, it is transformed into a reading or interpretive aid since it provides a framework for navigating a journal issue. An epigraph can lend a journal issue coherence. It can set the tone by introducing themes found within one or several articles in an issue. It links together seemingly unrelated subject matter and heterogeneous textual elements. Here, proximity to the epigraph is often important. The strongest affinity is possessed by the text found directly below the epigraph. A look to earlier issues from the year 1842 confirms this tendency. A Christmas poem by Johann Rist relates to an installment of holiday poetry found immediately below ( MB 36.7 [1842] : 25). Lines from Gottfried August Bürger’s poem “Auch ein Lied an den lieben Mond! ” introduce the moon as a theme in Franz Freiherr von Dingelstedt’s Lieder eines kosmopolitischen Nachtwächters (1841/ 42) ( MB 36.9 [1842]: 33). An epigraph from Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia is linked to an article on astronomical discoveries by Dr. Nürnberger ( MB 36.21 [1842] : 81). A quotation from Madame de Staël on Rome appears directly before the travel account “Rom im Winter” ( MB 36.93 [1842]: 369). The proximity rule does not necessarily hold for an entire section of the periodical. An epigraph may refer to a part, especially with shorter literary texts such as poems� An excerpt from Goethe’s “An den Mond” precedes poems by K.A. Mayer, to which the moon is likewise referred in his first poem, “Der Mond und die Liebenden”; the rest of the section’s poems do not have an obvious thematic link to the masthead’s epigraph ( MB 36.30 [1842]: 117). The proximity of an epigraph can establish a thematic link to several articles within an issue. An excerpt from Montesquieu’s Persian Letters appears before the main article “Bilder aus der türkischen Hauptstadt,” which, in turn, is followed by “Briefe aus Paris. Geschrieben von einem deutschen Kleinstädter.” Here, the orient and France are linked as exotic locations for German readers ( MB 36.29 [1842]: 113-14, 116). Although epigraphs have a prospective function for material found within an issue, linkages can also be traced to previously published and future issues. An epigraph by Alphonse de Lamartine appears in the masthead, and then the writer is the subject of a report in the Korrespondenz-Nachrichten in the following issue ( MB 36.45 [1842]: 177, 180). Here, a negative portrayal of Lamartine is given in the first lines of the report to elevate the fame of Victor Hugo, whose Parisian apartment and lifestyle are described in detail ( MB 36.46 [1842]: 184). An epigraph establishes linkages to social worlds found outside the text, as well. Genette observes that the early nineteenth century was a period in which epigraphs proliferated and served as Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 189 190 Vance Byrd a signal (intended as a sign ) of culture, a password of intellectuality� While the author awaits hypothetical newspaper reviews, literary prizes, and other official recognitions, the epigraph is already, a bit, his consecration. With it, he chooses his peers and thus his place in the pantheon. (Genette 160) Thus epigraphs can elevate the individual authors and works quoted. They contribute to the cultivation of a publication’s readership. They establish and reaffirm a catalogue of expressions and a repertoire of writers and works to whom readers can refer in ordinary and formal situations. Moreover, epigraphs elevate publication forms, such as novels, which were considered a questionable genre. Likewise, quotations add prestige or enhance the standing of a journal. Gerhard Plumpe argues that epigraphs lent cultural legitimacy to German short stories at the end of the nineteenth century. The placement of an epigraph in a work of contemporary literature sold books in a segmented publishing market. An epigraph might put at ease a discriminating reader who might have questioned the quality of a work, while the subject matter of the book might appeal to readers who disregard the epigraph’s social or textual functions. For example, Hermann Hauff’s brother Wilhelm, who served as an editor of the Morgenblatt for eleven months until his untimely death in 1827, modeled the use of epigraphs in his fiction after Walter Scott’s historical novels. Plumpe suggests, but does not analyze at length, that these epigraphs linked Wilhelm Hauff’s fiction to an established literary canon of great works (49-50). 15 Epigraphs held a legitimating and promotional function for the Morgenblatt � For example, quotations in the masthead from Friedrich Schiller’s historical tragedy Don Carlos introduce scenes from Julius Mosen’s previously unpublished “Sohn des Fürsten” ( MB 36.13 [1842]: 53 and MB 36.15 [1842]: 57). These epigraphs lend a genre designation, prestige, and publicity to the popular poet and novelist’s forthcoming play about Friedrich der Große’s close friend Hans Hermann von Katte, a production which would lead to Mosen’s appointment as Dramaturg at the court theater of Großherzog Paul Friedrich August von Oldenburg ( Jäger 171-72). As an element of the printed page, then, an epigraph established a peer group for the Morgenblatt and for the works that appeared in it� The epigraphs in the Morgenblatt ’s mastheads illustrate the character of the original publication venue and help us in our interpretive work. As previously mentioned, Hermann Hauff divided Droste-Hülshoff’s story into sixteen installments for publication in the Morgenblatt . On the one hand, the quotations in the mastheads generally announce the content of a given installment. For example, Jack Cade’s exclamation from Shakespeare’s Henry VI , “[t]hen we are in order, when we are most out of order,” opens her story even before her poem about morals and justice. With this, a powerful symbol of popular conflict with ruling authorities over private property provides a framework for understanding a first installment in which representatives of the legal system are as guilty of crimes as the poor in the village community. In the second installment, “All things, that we ordained festival, / Turn from their office to black funeral” from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet serves as a point of orientation to describe the installment’s treatment of Hermann Mergel’s second marriage and death and the deterioration of Margreth’s will. At times, however, the quotation at the top of an issue provides little guidance about the Judenbuche ’s content since the quotations only point to the first story in an issue� When the Judenbuche is not this first story, the quotation in the following issue creates narrative coherence by connecting the second main story of one issue with the first main story of the next. The quotation from Terence about adoption, childrearing, and wrongdoing, for instance, builds a bridge for the reader between the third and fourth installments’ focus on Simon Semmler’s influence on Friedrich’s moral development ( MB 36.99 [1842]: 393). 16 A quotation from Goethe’s Hermann und Dorothea on the same subject - “Wir können die Kinder nach unserem Sinne nicht formen; / So wie Gott sie uns gab, so muß man sie haben und lieben” - in the following installment, by contrast, does not relate to the installment’s focus on wood theft, the Blaukittel , and the question of property relations. Instead, it fills the reader in on what happened in the previous two installments ( MB 36.101 [1842]: 402). Hauff’s use of quotations maintains narrative coherence despite heterogeneous material by moving in a linear as well as in a zigzag, nonlinear fashion between issues. The quotations are important for the content clues the reader is given because Hauff largely ignored the temporal markers - dates - and caesurae Droste-Hülshoff used to structure the original version. The masthead quotations have an additional function. If the epigraph does not directly precede the next installment, its links can be retrospective and prospective. The epigraph from April 30, 1842, stems from George Crabbe’s Tales of the Hall (1835). This quotation punctuates the cliffhanger in the confrontation between the shepherd Friedrich and the forester Brandis. Previous installments had addressed Margreth’s financial downfall and the transformation of Friedrich’s character while under her brother Simon Semmler’s care. Friedrich had grown up to become a physically strong and prideful eighteen-year-old, who, perhaps paradoxically, prefers to sleep under the stars with cows than assume greater responsibility. Members of the community feel that he should have given up his duties as a shepherd long ago. The constellation of installments in dialogue with the Crabbe epigraph highlight the dilemma faced by this “zerlumpten Hirtenbuben,” when he must take a stand on forest use ( MB 36.101 [1842]: 402). Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 191 192 Vance Byrd One moonlit night, Brandis, along with seven to eight armed men in the typical green garb of foresters, asks Friedrich if he had heard anything suspicious that evening. Friedrich, whose light sleep had been interrupted by the distant sound of falling trees all night, replies that he had only heard wood thieves like them: “Eure Holzfäller, sonst nichts” (407). Brandis tells his men to go ahead while he stays behind with Friedrich, who accuses the forester a second time of being involved in wood theft. Thereupon, Brandis insults the precarious economic situation of the youth’s family. Friedrich reiterates that he did not see the wood thieves but may have heard them. At the moment when Friedrich asks whether the forester Brandis had ever cut down a tree without permission, the installment ends ( MB 36.102 [1842]: 407). The epigraph on April 30, 1842, from George Crabbe’s Tales of the Hall (1835), lends Friedrich and Brandis’s conversation an air of imminent conflict: “They resisted boldly ere they fled, / And blows were dealt around, and blood was shed” ( MB 36.103 [1842]: 409 / Crabbe 261). In this story, a widow named Rachel is in love with two brothers named James and Robert, who stand on opposite sides of the law. James is a respectable gamekeeper charged with the preservation of local regulations; Robert a lawless and godless poacher. As in Die Judenbuche, the woods are a site of bloody violence over nature. Robert’s involvement in poaching and smuggling wildlife recalls the conflict over property ownership in Droste-Hülshoff’s story, especially when the smugglers exclaim: “What guilt is his who pays for what he buys? ” / The Poacher questions, with perverted mind, / “Were not the gifts of Heaven for all design’d? ” (Crabbe 258). This illicit activity underpins the community since businesses and consumers happily profit from the crimes: “The well-known shops received a large supply, / That they who could not kill at least might buy” (Crabbe 261). Once again, a parallel can be found in Droste-Hülshoff’s fictional Westphalian community, whose proximity to a river facilitated delivery of stolen wood “sicher und bequem außer Land” on covered ships for profit ( MB 36.96 [1842]: 382). Against a common backdrop of competing legal understandings of natural resource use, Crabbe’s lord offers a reward for the identification and capture of the poachers. Hauff’s selected epigraph depicts a moment of confrontation in the Crabbe story, the result of which is Robert’s capture. The poacher’s lawlessness is contrasted with his brother James’s positive reputation in the community. James is held in high esteem by the lords and tries to save his brother Robert from a death sentence. Crabbe’s story presents a cliffhanger concerning just punishment for Robert’s offences and the restoration of order in the community. As for the romantic conflict, Rachel must decide who would be the most suitable suitor. She chooses James the do-gooder, but the brothers kill each other during a nighttime encounter. In this regard, the Crabbe epigraph foretells the conclusion to his story. In the installment from May 3, 1842, Friedrich admits to Simon that he might have sent the forester Brandis directly into the hands of wood thieves. A guilty conscience weighs on Friedrich, but Simon persuades him not to confess. Friedrich intentionally misled the forester out of a sense of excessive pride, Simon argues, which would annul the sacrament. Moreover, the church works jointly with forest officials, and both groups exploit the poor. Considering this theological-economic rationale, Friedrich heeds Simon’s advice. A four-year gap in narration, which is marked by a printed caesura, conceals Friedrich’s further moral decline under Simon’s watchful eye. Rather than the typographical division of the page column, the editors intensify scrutiny of the character’s boundless pride. The installment concludes once again with a cliffhanger: What is the significance of other characters calling Johannes a butter thief at the wedding dance he is attending with Friedrich? The epigraph from the next day on May 4, 1842, from Pierre Corneille’s Le Cid , links the Count’s and Don Diegue’s excessive pride to Droste-Hülshoff’s Friedrich. In the play, the Count does not want to accept the king’s decision to allow Don Diegue to educate his son. After the youthful Count insults the retired general Don Diegue, he effortlessly disarms the old man when he attempts to fight back. Don Diegue concedes: “I’m proved unfit through your proud jealousy. / This, my sword, once a glorious instrument, / Is but a bloodless old man’s ornament. / Once so respected, it could not prevent / My loss of honor in this argument” (Corneille 50). Because of this defeat, Don Diegue tells his son Rodrigue that he has suffered great shame at the hands of the Count. Although Rodrigue wants to marry the Count’s daughter Chimène, he decides to avenge his father’s honor, which sets off a new cycle of revenge. If the previous installment and the epigraph are read together, the question of pride and physical dominance, central features of Friedrich’s character, are infused with the question of revenge. After the epigraph, the main story continues with an old woman’s explanation: Johannes is poor and simpleminded. He stole the butter and tried to conceal it in his pocket; but it melted when he stood too close to a stove. The theft is a minor offense that Droste-Hülshoff uses to set the stage for an extreme exchange, which illustrates how Friedrich’s character has deteriorated. Friedrich wants to uphold his brash pride and continue dancing wildly, rather than be upstaged by his weak friend, whom Friedrich does not hesitate to attack and humiliate before the entire wedding party. As he retreats to a corner, Friedrich pulls out a silver watch - a contrast to the poverty Johannes’s action pointed to - and Wilm Hülsmeyer asks Friedrich if he had stolen it. Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 193 194 Vance Byrd Friedrich warf einen stolzen Blick auf ihn und griff in schweigender Majestät zum Fidelbogen. - “Nun, nun,” sagte Hülsmeyer, “dergleichen hat man schon erlebt. Du weißt wohl, der Franz Ebel hatte auch eine schöne Uhr, bis der Jude Aaron sie ihm wieder abnahm.” Friedrich antwortete nicht, sondern winkte stolz der ersten Violine, und sie begannen aus Leibeskräften zu streichen. ( MB 36.106 [1842]: 421) Like Don Diegue’s sword, the watch does not prevent the loss of honor in this argument either. With this conjecture, Hülsmeyer accuses Friedrich of dishonest dealings with Aaron the Jew. If we read between the lines, perhaps Franz had borrowed money from Aaron and not repaid him. The watch may have been the security against the debt, and Friedrich may have received Franz’s watch in a separate transaction with the Jewish “Althändler” ( MB 36.106 [1842]: 422). Friedrich pays little attention to Hülsmeyer, but Aaron the Jew, who appears at the social gathering at this inopportune moment, he cannot ignore. Aaron asks Friedrich to repay him ten thalers for a watch he received months ago, a public accusation which devastates Friedrich. Friedrich is a debtor not a thief, but the unconstrained threats against Aaron from the members of the wedding party damningly expose the community’s anti-Semitism. The insertion of the Corneille epigraph before this installment’s action fulfills a prospective function: How will Friedrich recuperate his honor? Will the murder of Aaron the Jew, which is confirmed in the subsequent installment, be a consequence of Friedrich’s humiliation, more generalized anti-Semitism in the community, or both? When we look to the conclusion, the May 10, 1842, issue of the Morgenblatt opens with an epigraph by Lichtenberg. It asserts that a good actor in a good play in a bad costume will ruin the performance. The epigraph is followed by a deliberation from “Briefe über das deutsche Schauspiel” in which the harmony of an actor’s physiognomy and pathognomy is necessary for his performance to be effective ( MB 36.111 [1842]: 441-42). Both texts frame the final installment of Droste-Hülshoff’s Die Judenbuche . Here, a decomposing body is discovered hanging from the beech tree. At first, the well-worn shoes seem to point to the identity of Johannes Niemand. However, after having the body removed from the tree, the Baron believes he can positively identify the dead man by his costume and his scar. Whereupon he remarks: “‘Es ist nicht recht, daß der Unschuldige für den Schuldigen leide; sagt es nur allen Leuten: der da’ - er deutete auf den Todten - ‘war Friedrich Mergel’. - Die Leiche ward auf dem Schindanger verscharrt” ( MB 36.111 [1842]: 443). This final textual constellation is exemplary of the interpretative quandary Droste-Hülshoff’s readers faced. Friedrich and Johannes were uncanny doubles in the story, and Droste-Hülshoff scholars are hardly in agreement about how to read the signs attributed to character found in the tree. On the one hand, the foregoing paratexts underscore that the dress must match the physical traits to be a convincing act. Did Friedrich charade around as Johannes more than once in the story? Why did the Baron deny the dead man a proper Christian burial? How did he sin? Was he even Christian? The Hebrew inscription in the beech tree’s trunk, “Wenn du dich diesem Orte nahest, so wird es dir ergehen, wie du mir gethan hast.” ( MB 36.111 [1842]: 443), seems to conform to a logic of retribution. Was it a suicide or did members of the Jewish community avenge Aaron’s murder? We cannot know the answers to all these questions, even with these instances of paratextual guidance. Literary scholars have relied on book editions to interpret a story in which the title, genre, manner of narration, and symbols make it difficult to reach definitive conclusions. The interpretative challenges that scholars face is exemplified by the fact that basics of the story are unresolved even at its conclusion. This article has focused on how the composition of the printed page had an impact on interpretative possibilities for the story, even if the epigraphs did not provide definitive answers to the unresolved issues in Droste-Hülshoff’s story. The liminal relationship and uncertainty about how to draw conclusions are defining features of periodical literature. The medial and paratextual context in which periodical literature was published invites a much more exploratory manner of reading literature than encountered in most books. The operation of a periodical meant that readers were constantly reaching for other materials, including supplements and older issues. Hauff’s Morgenblatt drew upon paratextual conventions for periodical literature with which readers were well acquainted, such as parenthetical references, annotations, monthly registers, and epigraphs. This material helped readers navigate the printed page and, as a reoccurring feature of each issue, readers could rely on epigraphs in particular to establish order in a publication format defined by heterogeneity. Engagement with a periodical’s materiality and page format relied on manual and intellectual labor as well as temporality, all of which epigraphs foreground. The latter point means that epigraphs from literary sources, such as Shakespeare or Corneille, did not belong to the same temporal frame as the stories found in a journal or newspaper issue; they were selected synchronously for a periodical edition and highlight how the production of periodical literature involved writers, editors, and publishers. These actors selected epigraphs, which introduced a repertoire of writers and thinkers into the field in which Droste-Hülshoff’s first prose work appeared. As such, epigraphs made her story much more expansive by connecting it to a host of other literary works. Moreover, they established a peer group for the periodical and for the publications that appeared in it. It is this interpretive, material, social, temporal, and spatial richness that book editions eliminate, and epigraphs in issues of periodical literature illuminate� Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 195 196 Vance Byrd Notes 1 Johann Friedrich Cotta was one of the most successful publishers in the Age of Goethe. He cultivated publishing relationships with Schiller, Goethe, Hölderlin, Jean Paul, Herder, Alexander von Humboldt, Fichte, and Schelling. In addition to publishing editions by these writers and thinkers, the J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung published books on mathematics, the sciences, medicine, philosophy, geography, art history, archaeology, pedagogical works, and travel guides. Cotta’s son Georg was his successor after his father’s death in 1832. The Morgenblatt für gebildete Stände (1807-37), which continued under the title Morgenblatt für gebildete Leser (1837-65), was published daily until June 1851, with the exception of Sundays. It appeared weekly from 1851-65. I refer to the periodical throughout this article as the Morgenblatt , which I abbreviate hereafter as MB in parenthetical citations� In-text citations indicate volume, issue number, and page number in that order� 2 In the third issue, C. A. Böttiger’s “An die Leser des Morgenblatts” underscores that politics was reserved for other papers, such as the Argus , Times , Hamburger Correspondent , and Cotta’s own Augsburger Allgemeine Zeitung ( MB 1.3 [1807]: 9). 3 The Morgenblatt reached the most readers during the period in which Theresa Huber edited the periodical (1817-23). At its peak in 1817-18, approximately 1,800 copies of the journal were sold. Magdalene Heuser estimates that each issue had a readership of approximately 15,000, including members of Lesegesellschaften and those who shared subscriptions privately among family and friends. In 1837, the number had dropped to 1,400, although periodicals of the period rarely had a circulation of more than 1,000 copies. See Heuser 167; Fischer 9. For an overview of the periodical, see Estermann 358—408. Hermann Hauff also published an overview of the Morgenblatt ’s history in its final issue ( MB 59.52 [1865]: 1225-31). 4 In 1820, the Morgenblatt was reorganized into a main journal with supplementary literary and art historical publications. With this change, the Kunstblatt (1816-49) and Literaturblatt (1817-49) had separate editorial operations and were treated as independent publications. Both periodicals were published twice weekly and could be subscribed to independent of a Morgenblatt subscription. 5 I refer to the Niemeyer critical edition of Annette von Droste-Hülshoff’s works as HKA , volume, and page number. 6 The anticipation or thrill of reading literature in installments is commonly associated with serial novels with stand-alone, action-driven plots printed in the second half of the nineteenth century. In this later period, the genre of thrillers entered a broader media ecology with the advent of cinema and radio, while nineteenth-century criminal fiction was a print phenomenon. With regard to genre, Droste-Hülshoff’s crime story should be more closely associated with serial publications such as Gayot de Pitaval’s Cause célèbres et interéssantes (1735ff.), Gothic novels such as E.T.A. Hoffmann’s Das Fräulein von Scuderi (1819), James F. Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans (1826) and The Pathfinder (1840); and E. F. Vidocq’s Memoiren (1828)� 7 Genette makes finer distinctions between the textual materials inside the book, “peritexts,” and outside of it, “epitexts.” I use the terms “paratext” and “paratextuality” for simplicity’s sake throughout this article, although I am aware that epigraphs are peritexts. 8 In later editions of the periodical, the masthead included a table of contents for the issue. Epigraphs proliferated in the nineteenth-century books due to their use in Walter Scott’s historical novels (Genette 305-06). These quotations were not a common feature of late eighteenthand nineteenth-century periodicals� Neither the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung (1785-1849), Journal des Luxus und der Moden (1787-1812), Die Horen (1795-97), Allgemeine Zeitung (1798-1895), Die Zeitung für die elegante Welt (1801-59), Flora (1793-1803), Gesellschafter oder Blätter für Geist und Herz (1817-48); Das Ausland (1828-93), Telegraph für Deutschland (1838-48), nor Die Gartenlaube (1853-1944) made use of epigraphs in the masthead. Other common elements of mastheads, such as an illustrated vignette or sales and distribution information for domestic and foreign subscribers, are absent from the masthead of the Morgenblatt � 9 Droste-Hülshoff published “Der Knabe im Moor” ( MB 36.40 [1842]: 159-60), “Im Moose” ( MB 36.54 [1842]: 213), “Warnung an die Weltverbesserer” ( MB 36.73 [1842]: 289), “Gruß an …” ( MB 36.94 [1842]: 373), and “Die Taxuswand” ( MB 36.192 [1842]: 765-66); “Die Schenke am See” ( MB 37.48 [1843]: 189); “Das Ich der Mittelpunkt der Welt” ( MB 38.192 [1844]: 765-66), “Spätes Erwachen” ( MB 38.197 [1844]: 785-86), “Die tote Lerche” ( MB 38.207 [1844]: 825), “Lebt wohl” ( MB 38.207 [1844]: 825-26), “Mein Beruf” ( MB 38�222 [1844]: 885-86) and “Das Haus in der Heide” ( MB 38.222 [1844]: 886-87). See Peek 979. As for other prose publications in periodicals in her lifetime, Droste-Hülshoff published the Westphälische Schilderungen aus einer westphälischen Feder in Guido Görres’s biweekly newspaper Historisch-politische Blätter für das katholische Deutschland in October and November 1845. 10 Peek 951� 11 “Sein [Georg Reinbecks] Nachfolger wurde Haug, der zuvor schon das tägliche Motto ausgewählt und, wie die böswillige Ueberlieferung wissen will, in Epigraphs and the Journal Edition of Droste-Hülshoff’s Judenbuche 197 198 Vance Byrd Ermanglung eines zutreffenden Dichterwortes auch wohl ein eigenes unter beliebigem Namen improvisirt hatte.” 12 Macksey in Genette xviii. 13 The Niemeyer edition identifies a number of additional biblical intertexts in the prologue poem: “And he said unto them, Take heed what ye hear: with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you: and unto you that hear shall more be given” (Mark 4: 24); “There is one lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy: who are thou that judgest another? ” ( James 4: 12); “Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest; for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things.” (Romans 2: 1). See HKA V,2: 235� 14 For a recent discussion of the lex talionis see Hückmann. 15 With regard to epigraphs see Genette 156-59 and Gläser 263-64. Gläser focuses on epigraphs in twentieth-century text types including fiction, edited volumes and monographs published by university presses, textbooks, non-fiction, popular-scientific publications, and memoires. 16 “Tuum filium dedisti adoptandum mihi: / Is meus est factus; si quid peccat, / Mihi peccat. Terent.” Works Cited Antonsen, Jan Erik� Text-Inseln. Studien zum Motto in der deutschen Literatur vom 17. bis 20. Jahrhundert . Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 1998. Bell, David F. “Technologies of Speed, Technologies of Crime.” Yale French Studies 108 (2005): 8-19. Byrd, Vance. “Der Holzgerechte Jäger: Forester Fictions and Annette von Droste- Hülshoff’s Die Judenbuche .” The Germanic Review: Literature, Culture, Theory 89�4 (2014): 345-64. Casey, Edward S. The World at a Glance . Bloomington: Indiana UP, 2007. 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