Ernst Morwitz became a follower of Stefan George when he was in his late teens/early twenties and formed a close relationship with his venerated poet, ultimately becoming one of the individuals most trusted and favored by George. In his biography of George, Norton speaks of Morwitz, saying, “Morwitz was monkish, taciturn, and, as his name presaged, earnest to the point of a dull sobriety—George teasingly called him ‘the mollusk’ because of his closed reserve. But George also knew he could rely utterly on him—and did” (Norton 346). Although Morwitz was much younger than George, the two had a deeply emotional relationship. Poetry was devoted to him and George’s own writing was vague enough for readers (especially modern ones) to conjecture that some specific poems are about physical intimacy with Morwitz. Norton intimates that Morwitz would repeatedly assure George of his allegiance to him through words such as, ‘how much I live in you and think in you,’ as well as ‘for you accompany me and know my paths and I am forever with you,’ (397). Discussions such as these offer a glimpse of how power dynamics functioned within their relationship, with Morwitz attending to his ‘master’s’ needs. Additionally, Morwitz sometimes housed George during the years of the First World War (Norton 549).

 

An important facet of Morwitz’s story—and its intersection within George’s story as well—is that Morwitz was Jewish. He fled to the United States where he brought George’s literary legacy into English. Particularly, Morwitz’s translations of George’s work appeared in UNC Chapel Hill Literary Journals in the 1940’s. Throughout his life, Morwitz aimed to build George’s legacy. Whenever George’s somewhat anti-Semitic comments and behaviors came into question after WWII, Morwitz would assertively come to his defense. He was a main voice in dismantling any notions that George had any Nazi ties or harbored sentiment in favor of them. Ultimately, his loyalty to his beloved poet manifested itself in how he went to Minusio, Switzerland to die—“where his Master also lies buried” (Norton 347).