On the 20th, Lenz walked through the mountains. The peaks and high mountain areas were covered in snow, with gray rocks descending into the valleys, green fields, cliffs, and fir trees. It was damp and cold, with water trickling down the rocks and splashing over the path. The branches of the fir trees hung heavily in the moist air. Gray clouds drifted across the sky, but everything felt so dense, and then the fog rose up, moving heavily and damply through the underbrush, so sluggish, so clumsy. The famous opening of Büchner's Lenz, a text that seems almost unbelievable in its time of origin, is so modern and intellectually engaging that this stunning little novella makes you want to start over as soon as you finish it. The lovingly edited linen edition caters to this need. The necessary background for a deeper understanding of the text is provided by Joachim Bark, an expert on 19th-century literature, in his analysis.