The Runenbergs

Ludwig Tieck introduced the world to his cursed mountain not as an underground temple of carnality, but as a towering peak in his cautionary tale of siren songs and abandoned humanity.  The Runenberg represents a delusion on a grand scale.  This mystical mountain beckons, but what it offers is illusory.  Tieck’s story shows how rejecting a good, stable life in pursuit of a magical one where the rewards are quick leads to ruin and a lack of perspective.  Romanticism looked back at the world of yesterday while technology marched society into an unknown future.  Yes, there is a sense of trepidation at that future, but the elements of the fantastic the german Romanticists employed captured the wonders of a world promised and the tensions to leave the old world behind.  Tieck’s story illustrates a pattern history bears witness to time and again, and it’s at our doorstep once more.

            The main character, Christian, is unsatisfied with his life and rejects the family trade as a gardener in a castle.  It is a life that his father urgers him to embrace, but Christian wants more.  In a twist on the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, Christian rejects growing food and flowers to become a hunter.  He is successful, eventually, marries, and has a family, but there are clear hints that he isn’t satisfied from the story’s outset.  This dissatisfaction manifests as the stranger who tells Christian about the Runenberg and later the woman in the castle who further entices him.  While they lead up to his marriage, these two mysterious figures leave an impression on him that eventually comes back to uproot him from a settled life.

            Now, from this brief summary it may appear that this story has no bearing on the modern world, but it relates to many aspects of venture capitalism.  The chief amongst such endeavors is the funding of AI and the itinerant data centers.  The protagonist’s name also alludes to the tensions between a new order and the old.  In the case of Tieck’s story, it’s a doubling of both Christianity and paganism as well as the pastoral era and industrialization.  “Der Runenberg” means “the Rune Mountain” in English and represents that supernatural space of the old world where a rustic population holds to the old ways despite the encroachment of urban culture.  The mountain itself is inhospitable to life as only spirits can survive in such an austere environment.  It also serves as a physical representation of death.

            This final point is crucial to understanding Tieck’s story as a cautionary tale applicable to modern technology.  What these disparate images and ideas refer to are a shorthand for the unattainable or unknowable alongside the passionless nature of pure information.  Christian is described as melancholic because he looks for a life he cannot live. The stranger who teaches him how to live in the wilds is a guide to the inner world and subsequently into the mythical underworld.  In such a capacity, the stranger can be envisioned as the id.  What the stranger does is reveal to Christian his true desire: the Runenberg.

            This is where Tieck draws upon a Medieval motif to cement the connection between the mythic and pagan past with the mythic future and the promise of untold wealth.  Both speak to a desire, especially one of wish fulfillment.  The embodiment of which is Venus and the Venusberg, the underworld mountain where she holds court, add a carnality to the pleasures of wishes granted.  Christian catches a glimpse of this Venus figure in the dude through a window, she gives him a magic tablet, but then everything recedes and Christian tumbles into darkness.  The symbolism that while he may have lost the memento of the encounter, he has fallen to the temptation.  When he comes to, he is nowhere near the magical mountain but enters a village where he meets his future wife and takes up the life of a gardener and works hard to win her hand in marriage.  Eventually, Christian goes to visit his father to share in his good fortune and finds him at the foot of the Runenberg.

            Later a stranger shows up to visit and there is a sense that this is the same man Christian met in the mountains years before.  The man leaves after three months entrusting Christian with a substantial amount of gold that will become his if the stranger does not return in one year’s time.  This begins to eat at Christian as the deadline draws near and passes.  He cannot accept his good fortune and sets out to find the man.  Christian, however, never does, encountering an old woman who not only captivates him, but also returns the tablet to him.  He failed to understand and accept his reward for avoiding the trap that now ensnares him.  When he shows the tablet to his family, his father is repulsed by how the gems give off an unearthly glow.  Christian, however, is convinced he can gain more and the mysterious Woodwoman is calling to him.  He heads to an abandoned mineshaft and does not return for years.  Christian has turned his back on civilization.  Years pass, and Christian, a disheveled shadow of himself, returns home to ruin.

            What is the link to modern society?  Christian represents the Silicon Valley tech bro and venture capitalists.  They have a stable life, but believe it is stifling.  Also, the garden is symbolic for slow and steady progress that requires patience but is almost certain to yield results in time.  The skills of the forester Chistian learns from the stranger are about immediate gratification focused on the short-term.  The profitability of steady progress does not interest these types.  They want their rewards now and at any cost—including the lives of anything they choose as their quarry.  In this story, it also represents immaturity and references the Prodigal Son parable.

            The stranger’s teaching Christian reflects humanity’s base instincts while the terrain is synonymous with the primordial world and an unknown where some truths remain hidden.  Here, one may find new ideas, but they are elusive and only surface when accidentally discovered or relentlessly pursued to the exclusion of all else.  The Runenberg, then, encapsulates the unattainable ideas that are ultimately barren without interpretation.  They entice specifically to inspire, but are not meant to be made reality prima facia.  This is why nothing organic grows or lives on the mountain.  The Venus figure, her castle, and the magical tablet are there to seduce Christian, who, like the venture capitalists, give up their humanity to dwell in the Runenberg’s embrace.  Christian cannot stay in a dream, hence his fall and coming to in a new place where his passions fade back into a haze when he encounters the tangible Elisabeth.  Her beauty sets Christian on a path to reintegration into society, and this is crucial to the allegory.

            When Christian begins to long for his parents, the implication is not only wanting to reconnect, but also to show them how successful he as become despite the path the took.  The implication is all the stronger with Christian finding his father at the foot of the Runenberg.  Though not stated, it alludes to his father knowing Christian’s unattanable dreams.  The father represents the immediate past and doubles the mountain’s own connection to the superstitions their society had shed.  As the stranger reappears, the nature of Christian’s desires also returns.  The sack of gold he entrusts Christian with induced the suppressed greed and lust for leisure Christian always desired, the hunting phase of his life as a stand-in for no responsibilities.  His growing paranoia is symbolic of his past deeds and reveal his thirst for sensual, material ease never dissipated.  Thus, it shows his lust ruled every decision—including marrying Elisabeth.

            Christian’s name serves as a reminder that the morals of a tradition are not an impervious defense against greed and lust for carnality without effort.  The overlay of this decorum is not a shield and, as with this character, used to cloak his corruption.  It can be argued that the original taste of treasure and the trappings of wealth he spied before settling down revealed his true self and that veneer of civility was kept only to achieve his ends.  This is on par with how venture capitalism works as the person offering the money only does so out of greed.  There is no real labor contributed to the company being funded, just the planting of a financial seed others will tend, such as the castle garden where the story begins.  Thus the castle at Runenberg stands as a symbol of the luxury and power used to further entice the investor to use the labor of others.

            The stranger also serves as the messenger who also strokes the ego of the erstwhile investor by sharing the information of the opportunity.  The nudity of the Venus figure, the proximity to the Runenberg’s secrets, and the power inherent in the castle are the gloss to the mystical tablet with its gems as proof of concept.  That package is the dream to which the financier is drawn, and it only costs one’s humanity to keep it.  Why, you may wonder.  The truth is we cannot live in dreams, we can only be inspired by lofty goals, but we must work to achieve and appreciate them.  But, in the case of Christian, that path was never appealing and the gradual consumption with profit and a fantasy take their toll.  Christian doesn’t want to resist, but he is not corrupted enough to remain in the barren clutches of the mystical, inhuman realm.

            Whether due to his morals or humanity, Christian loses the magical tablet and the obsession recedes into his subconscious.  The hint that this is not the end of the temptation is how quickly he agrees to work hard to obtain Elisabeth’s hand and how the wealth the stranger entrusts to him leads him to abandon his family.  An argument can be made that the search for the stranger is a pretext to return to the Runenberg.  The paranoia Christian experiences may very well be a result of fearing others will see his mask of civility is slipping, especially through the lens of the stranger as Christian’s psychological shadow.  He cannot deny his true nature and does give in to it.

            What is the tablet and why does his father recoil so terribly to its presence?  It serves as another doubled image of the occult past of paganism and the growing use of electricity.  The late 1700s saw an increased use of electricity in salon performances and experiments throughout Europe.  One of the figures who was present for these experiments was Tieck.  He witnessed them given the social circle he and other romanticists occupied.  His work, like his cohorts, was a response to the cold, detached approach of the Enlightenment.  This leads to the Runenberg serving not only as a mysterious location with otherworldly associations, but also as the coming of the Industrial Age and its concentration on the inorganic to dominate the organic spaces of the natural world.  The eerie glow of the gems in the recovered tablet are an allusion to the Leyden jar and as it was used in demonstrations to make theatrical sparks that would briefly glow.

            The imagery of a barren mountain is another doubled symbol of the Woodwoman in that the enchantment itself is empty.  Christian’s desertion of his life in an all-consuming desire to possess the intangible.  Lost in a dream, he is unable to see the wasted, horrifying truth of what he has fallen in love with.  Christian is so engrossed with the Woodwoman and the promise of riches, he leads his family to ruin.  His unrecognizable state after returning years later is an external reflection of his moral bankruptcy and loss of humanity.  Elisabeth has remarried, has more children and a new husband while Christian’s father and her parents have died and their garden withered and failed.  Despite this news, he tells her he has found the treasure of Runenberg and dumps a sack of ordinary rocks at her feet.  Elisabeth spies the Woodwoman’s corrupted guise and even Christian is horrified, but she cloaks herself momentarily in her beauty to show she is one-in-the-same Venus figure he first encountered.  Enticed once more, Christian deserts his former love to never return.

            This final section of the story is the definitive critique of not just the dryness of the Enlightenment, but also the loss of what makes someone human when they pursue knowledge without the motional context that lets one evaluate the moral and ethical implications of the pursuit, the knowledge sought, and the application of those discoveries.  Like the financiers of Tieck’s time, the venture capitalist is dispassionate and removed from the labor of others, they quest for riches rather than the communal wealth of humanity.  Just like the scientist who discarded his humanity for knowledge, Christian disregarded his duties of family.  This sentiment echoes in the pages of Frankenstein sixteen years later.  The Runenberg is empty because its idealized nature cannot endure prolonged contact with the physical realm.

            Herein lies the problem: the ephemeral will always change.  It must mutate into a new form.  This is why the Venus figure becomes the hideous Woodswoman.  She is a representation of the sunk cost fallacy that Christian cannot bear to let go of.  The idea and its viability have grown old and disfigured because he refuses to give up on what once held promise.  Christian cannot see his folly, he is convinced he is almost there and the mountain will reward his devotion.  What he failed to see is Elisabeth was his reward, a family and success beyond what his father had.

            This patten is repeating.  Romanticism, especially the narratives by Germans, are the foundational texts of cyberpunk fiction.  They were the warnings of their day, yet the new obsession at the expense of society and the self is AI.  The view that we just need more data centers to turn the technology into a feasible path is undercut by the self-consumption of the corporations and venture capitalists who have leveraged each other to bring the spirits of the Runenberg under their control.  But Venus has caught them in her grasp and there are no experiences that can inform or satisfy them—both the ephemeral ones and their human pursuers.  They’ve chosen to abandon the garden that provides for the unyielding stone that doesn’t.  And the stones they’ve chosen to display as riches: data centers built on stolen works, like Christian and his attempted scraping of the Runenberg’s power, which only the Venus figure can command.

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