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Exploring Europe at the British Library

154 posts categorized "Germany"

03 February 2014

Alsace-Lorraine and Anglophilia: the obsessions of Paul Déroulède

On 3 February 1914 Paris witnessed the greatest funeral procession to pass through its streets since the cortège of Victor Hugo in 1885. On this occasion, too, a poet, dramatist  and political exile was being carried to his grave, but one who was not only a controversial political figure but had a distinguished military career.

Paul Déroulède (1846-1914) had already seen his first play Juan Strenner (Paris, 1869; 11739.cc.17.(3.)) performed at the Théâtre Français in 1869 before joining up as a private to fight in the Franco-Prussian war. Wounded at the battle of Sedan, he escaped from imprisonment in Breslau (Wrocław) to rejoin the army and fight against the Paris Commune (1871)  before being promoted to lieutenant. When an accident put an end to his military activities, he concentrated on literature, and achieved considerable popularity with his collections of patriotic poems Chants du soldat (Paris, 1872; 011483.e.42) and Nouveaux chants de soldat  (Paris, 1875;  11482.aa.2).

Portrait of Paul Déroulède in military uniformPaul Déroulède in 1877 (portrait by Jean-François Pourtaels from Wikimedia Commons)

His experiences in the war heightened the sense of bitterness which he experienced at the loss of Alsace and Lorraine to the newly-established German empire, and he became a familiar figure at the annual commemorations of those who had fallen in the conflict. Together with the historian Henri Martin and Félix Faure, who later became President of France, he founded the Ligue des patriotes in 1882 to avenge the loss of the provinces. It rapidly gained a considerable membership, and in 1885 he became its president.

In the political sphere, though, he was less successful; after finally being elected in 1889 to the Chambre des députés as the member for Angoulême, he proved so noisy and disruptive during debates that he was expelled the following year, and not reinstated until 1898. In the meantime he had been equally vocal in his attacks on Dreyfus. Finally, after failing to persuade General Roget to advance on the presidential palace in 1899, he insisted on being arrested for treason, and was finally sentenced to ten years’ exile from France for conspiracy against the Republic. He retreated to San Sebastián in the Basque country, but was enabled to return by an amnesty decreed in 1905.

One of the most colourful episodes in his career, which inspired a famous painting by Henri Meyer, was a duel to which he challenged the future president Georges Clemenceau in 1892 over the latter’s implication in the scandal resulting from the collapse in 1889 of the Panama Canal Company because of corruption and mismanagement. Neither was wounded, but this reinforced Déroulède’s reputation as an extreme nationalist and opponent of the Third Republic.

Pragmatically as ideologically Déroulède was a notable Anglophile, though his own experiences when seeking election had convinced him that the British parliamentary system was not appropriate for France. However, he saw Britain as an indispensable ally against Germany, and saw the acquisition of French colonies as a poor substitute for the loss of Alsace-Lorraine, especially as he regarded colonialism as a likely source of conflict with the British Empire.

Cover of 'Monsieur le Hulan' showing a soldier seeing a vision of a tricolour cockade

 Cover of Paul Déroulède's Monsieur le Hulan et les trois couleurs: conte de Noël (Paris, [1917]) 1873.dd.8.

It is tantalizing to speculate on the reasons for Baroness Orczy's  choice of the name Paul Déroulède for the hero of her novel I Will Repay (London, 1906; 012633.a.31). Yet it is hard to imagine that, as a convinced Anglophile who, like his fictional namesake, had demanded to be arrested for treason, he would not have been delighted and flattered by this coincidence.

Susan Halstead,  Curator Czech Slovak and Lusatian.

22 January 2014

German Parish Life in London and an East End Church Library

With the Hanoverian Kings came the people…  And with the people came trades, professions, active community life and parishes – and these Germans needed places of worship.

The British Library has housed the St. George’s Church Library since 1995; its acquisition and ongoing investigations into the collection have shed an illuminating light on the history of German life in London during the Hanoverian period.

Bookplate from the St George's Lutheran Church libraryA bookplate from one of the St George's Church Library books: J. H. Daub, Christliche Stimmen von den Bergen, (Essen, 1838) RB.23.a.16559.

The kings of German origin attracted more Germans to come to London in their train – or perhaps Germans had always been coming?  Other contributors to this series might be able to comment further on  this, but certainly many Germans came, and they settled by preference together, within certain areas of London which were themselves as large as small cities, where they could follow their trades, and where parish and social life had already been established.

The history of St. George’s Lutheran Church and its church library provides answers to many questions about the numbers, trades and faith of the Germans in London.  The church was the fifth German church foundation in London.  In the 19th century, the peak period for German settlement in Britain, there were eleven German parishes in London alone – one of them, of course, was the Royal Chapel at St. James’s Palace – and there were 14 German-speaking congregations across Britain.  They were almost all Protestant churches.  Parish life at St. George’s was highly influenced by August Hermann Francke’s Pietist movement and its missionary aims.  Several named pastors and preachers came from the Francke’sche Stiftungen in Halle; their missionary activity is reflected in their fervent publishing output of sermons and religious treatises, highlighting another trade Germans pursued in London: printing and publishing.

As part of this series of blogs, we shall be highlighting some notable items from the St. George’s Church Collection and providing insights into trades including printing and publishing pursued by the German community.

The Lutheran parishes in London were small German worlds within a world.  My own favourite item from the St. George’s Collection reflects this:

Title page of 'Kirchen-Geschichte der deutschen Gemeinden in London' with original ownership stamp of G. MaetzoldKirchen-Geschichte der deutschen Gemeinden in London, nebst historischen Beylagen und Predigten von D. Johann Gottfried Burckhardt, Pastor der deutschen Lutherischen Gemeinden in der Savoy.   (Tübingen: bey Ludwig Fues, 1798) RB.23.a.16354.

This was one of the items found amongst the original church library books in the vestry of St. George’s Lutheran Church, and it harks back to the church’s early days.  The provenance note has always touched me. The item was owned by Pastor Maetzold, and the church organist, who declares himself as a friend of the parish, donates it to the library – thus this little book spans more than two hundred years of German parish history in London.

Dorothea Miehe, Curator German Studies

References:

Dorothea Miehe, ‘Kurze Geschichte einer Rettungsaktion: die Bibliothek der St. Georgs-Gemeinde in Spitalfields, London’, German Studies Library Group Newsletter, no. 22 (July 1997), pp.7-11. ZK.9.b.1089

Dorothea Miehe, ‘The St George’s Lutheran Church Collection’, in Handbuch deutscher historischer Buchbestände in Europa, Bd. 10 (Hildesheim, 2000) §2.110-118, pp. 84-85.  RAR 027.04, and online at http://fabian.sub.uni-goettingen.de/?BritLib2

13 January 2014

Anglo-German centuries: a 'History in Objects' for 2014

The British Library’s current major exhibition, Georgians Revealed, marks the accession of the Hanoverian Dynasty to the British throne in 1714, ushering in the Georgian age. This is one of a number of events in both Britain and Germany  celebrating this anniversary, while later in the year both countries will also commemorate the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War.

The 200 years between these dates saw the growth of a sizeable German community in Britain and of significant political, cultural and personal links between the two countries (or between Britain and the various states which made up Germany for much of the period) and their peoples.

Of course there had been links between Britons and Germans long before 1714:  the British monarch is still known as ‘Defender of the Faith’ because of Henry VIII’s engagement with Martin Luther, and the Steelyard, headquarters of the Hanseatic League in mediaeval  London, is commemorated to this day by a street name and plaque

However, the formal political union between Britain and Hanover from 1714 to 1837, the  political and dynastic ties that persisted into Victoria’s reign and the growing influence of German culture and science in 19th-century Europe made for a different and closer relationship. And while 1914 by no means marked a completely clean break, for the rest of the 20th century Anglo-German relations would be cast in a very different mould from that of the Georgian and Victorian eras.

So, to mark the joint anniversary of 1714 and 1914 we will be presenting over the course of this year a series of themed blog posts examining Anglo-German relations specifically between those two dates through different items from the Library's collections: a kind of ‘History in Objects’ like those promoted by the British Museum in recent years. Some posts will relate to well-known figures and events, although their Anglo-German connections might be less familiar. Others will highlight lesser-known stories, such as the trades followed by German immigrants in Britain, German influences in the history of the Library’s own collections, or the huge celebration of Friedrich Schiller’s 100th birthday held in London.

Montage of books and manuscripts
Some collection items with an Anglo-German story to tell...

We hope you will join us over the coming year to find out more and explore two centuries of Anglo-German ties.

Susan Reed, Lead Curator Germanic Studies

03 January 2014

The Panizzi Lectures - Censors at Work: Bourbon France, Imperialist India, and Communist Germany.

The Panizzi Lectures, based upon the original researches of eminent scholars of the book, have been delivered annually since 1985. They cover a wide and international subject range within the overall umbrella of historical bibliography. In this year’s series of three lectures, on Monday 6, Tuesday 7 and Thursday 9 January 2014, Professor Robert Darnton will look at how censorship operated in three different periods and countries - Bourbon France, Imperialist India, and Communist Germany.

Poster for the 2013 Panizzi Lectures showing censors raiding a printing workshop

The image used in the publicity for the lectures (above) is a detail of a satirical print by J. J. Grandville, published in November 1833 in L’Association mensuelle, a special edition of Charles Philipon’s La Caricature.  It shows King Louis Philippe and his entourage raiding the workshop of the Freedom of the Press. The king is seen on the left, brutally trying to silence a woman worker (a personification of  Freedom of the Press), his right foot treading on a paper called  Le Bon Sens (‘Common Sense’). Other officials are depicted attacking the press itself, or tearing newspapers. Hanging above  are issues of anti-Government papers like  Le Charivari  and  La Caricature, the latter showing a pear - a notorious caricature of the head of Louis-Philippe, created  by Philipon in 1831 and subsequently used by artists (notably Daumier) to represent the king.

The three lectures are:

1.  Monday 6 January 2014. Bourbon France: Privilege and repression.
Censorship under the Ancien Régime in France was positive: a royal endorsement of a book’s quality in the form of a privilege. Books that could not qualify for privileges circulated in a vast underground trade, which a specialized literary police attempted, with limited success, to repress.

2.  Tuesday 7 January 2014. British India: Liberalism and Imperialism.
After the rebellion of 1857, the British masters of India realized they understood little about the country they had conquered and therefore produced extensive surveys of “native” literature. The surveys reveal the nature of imperialist discourse about Indian literature, and they provided material for the repression of everything deemed seditious after the partition of Bengal in 1905.

3. Thursday 9 January 2014. Communist East Germany: Planning and Persecution.
In Communist East Germany, censorship meant “planning,” a literary version of social engineering.  Every book had to be incorporated in an annual plan after a complex process of negotiation and compromise, which made authors complicit with censors and led to struggles that reverberated up to the top of the power structure.

Professor Robert Darnton (right) is Carl H. Pforzheimer UniRobert Darntonversity Professor and Director of the University Library at Harvard.  He has written and edited many books, including The Business of Enlightenment: A publishing History of the Encyclopédie (Cambridge, Mass., 1979, an early attempt to develop the history of books as a field of study; British Library X.981/21846), The Great Cat Massacre and Other Episodes in French Cultural History (New York, 1984, probably his most popular work, which has been translated into 18 languages; X.800/41225), Berlin Journal, 1989-1990 (New York, 1991, an account of the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of East Germany; YC.1993.a.3801), and The Forbidden Best-Sellers of Prerevolutionary France (New York, 1995, a study of the underground book trade; YC.1995.b.3040). His latest books are The Case for Books (New York, 2009; m09/36681), The Devil in the Holy Water, or The Art of Slander in France from Louis XIV to Napoleon (Philadelphia, 2010; YC.2012.a.15402), and Poetry and the Police: Communication Networks in Eighteenth-Century Paris (Cambridge, Mass., 2010; YC.2010.a.16713).

All lectures will be in the Lecture Theatre of the British Library Conference Centre, 96 Euston Road, London NW1 2DB.  18.30-19.30. Admission is free and  the lectures are not ticketed; seats will be allocated on a first come, first served basis.

The last lecture will be followed by a drinks reception to which all are welcome.

Chris Michaelides, Secretary, Panizzi Foundation.

 

09 December 2013

Coming to England with Alfred Kerr

2013 has seen many well-deserved tributes on the 90th birthday of the children’s writer and illustrator Judith Kerr. Although I never encountered her wonderful picture books as a small child, when I was about 10 I read her novel When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit which tells the story of a family exiled from Nazi Germany. I have loved it ever since, and as an adult I still find that it and its two sequels reward re-reading.

I knew that the novels were based largely on the author’s own experience and that she, like Anna in the books, was the daughter of a famous writer. As a student reading German I occasionally wondered who this writer was; the name Kerr never appeared on my reading lists or on the shelves of the university library. But I didn’t pursue the question until a couple of years later when, working in what was then the Institute of Germanic Studies Library, I came across a book called Ich kam nach England by one Alfred Kerr. In the opening paragraphs the author describes fleeing Berlin with a high fever and living in Switzerland and Paris before coming to England. A little further on he writes that, if the family had stayed in Berlin “my son would never have won the Prix d’excellence at the Lycée Michelet …[and] my eleven-year old daughter would never have said … ‘Papa, it’s wonderful to be a refugee.’” (p. 26). All this I recognised from When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit: these children were the ‘Anna’ and ‘Max’ of the books, and the author was their father.

But he was, of course,  much more too: Alfred Kerr (1867-1948) was best known as a brilliant and influential theatre critic but he was also a poet and editor and wrote about a range of political and cultural topics and about his travels in Europe, America and Africa. He knew many of the major cultural and intellectual figures of his day and was indeed counted among them: the list of contributors to a ‘Book of Friendship’ published in Kerr’s honour in 1928 reads like a who’s who of contemporary German letters.


Book cover with a portrait of Alfred Kerr
Chapiro, Joseph (ed.) Für Alfred Kerr: ein Buch der Freundschaft (Berlin, 1928). British Library 01703.df.16. A collection of essays and tributes from Kerr’s contemporaries and friends, with a cover portrait of Kerr by Emil Stumpp

Kerr was outspoken in his opposition to the rise of Nazism, and it is proof of the influence of his writing and opinions that his arrest was ordered as soon as Hitler  came to power and that his books were among those publicly burned in May 1933. Fortunately Kerr was forewarned of the planned arrest, and he and his family were able to escape in time. From his exile he published a collection of  attacks on Germany’s new rulers entitled Die Diktatur des Hausknechts (‘The Dictatorship of the Servant Boy’).

Cover of 'Die Diktatur des Hausknechts' with a caricature of a thuggish Nazi embraced by a skeleton
Alfred Kerr, Die Diktatur des Hausknechts (Brussels, 1934) 11567.bb.52

Ich kam nach England is not a straightforward autobiography or diary but a series of impressions and sketches of England as seen through the eyes of an outsider. Sometimes Kerr comments with wry humour on English manners and customs (such as the arcane traditions of his son’s boarding school or the confrontational language of MPs in the House of Commons), but he also takes a serious critical look at the country and is often concerned at the apparent blindness of many of its people towards the true state of affairs in Germany; he is bitterly disappointed, for example, when his friend Bernard Shaw expresses admiration for Hitler. However he ends, writing in the dark days of 1940, by praising England as the country which “has saved humanity for humankind – from Hitlerism which is the cruellest form of idiocy given life.” (p. 199).

The book is written in Kerr’s typical highly accomplished and individual style with brief and often aphoristic sentences combined into short, numbered paragraphs; he frequently incorporates dialect or foreign words or phrases, quotations and snatches of conversation. It’s a difficult style to translate and his work is therefore little known outside Germany - which is one of the reasons why, despite his many years in England, Kerr found it hard to make a living as a writer here.

As far as I can discover, to this day none of his works have been translated into English. It would be wonderful if a brave translator could take up the challenge with Ich kam nach England for a start, and introduce Alfred Kerr also to a nation already brought up on his daughter’s books.

Susan Reed, Lead Curator Germanic Studies

References/further reading:

Kerr, Alfred, Ich kam nach England: ein Tagebuch aus dem Nachlaß, herausgegeben von Walter Huder und Thomas Koebner (Bonn, 1979). X:909/88514

Dove, Richard, Journey of no return: five German-speaking literary exiles in Britain, 1933-1945 (London, 2000)  YC.2006.a.20750

Kerr, Michael, As Far as I Remember (Oxford, 2002) YC.2002.a23013 (A memoir by Alfred Kerr’s son)

Kerr, Judith, Out of the Hitler Time (London, 2002) H.2002/4250 (An omnibus edition of the three autobiographical novels, When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, Bombs on Aunt Dainty, and A Small Person Far Away)

17 October 2013

Georg Büchner - German literature's great "what if...?"

What is it about years ending in 13? They must be lucky for some, because 2013 has seen the anniversaries of many major cultural figures and events. Today we can add another to the list: Georg Büchner, born on 17 October 1813 and considered one of the most innovative, influential and brilliant figures in German literature. Germany’s most prestigious literary prize bears his name and the German film director Werner Herzog  described Büchner’s unfinished play Woyzeck as “the best thing ever written in our language”.

His posthumous reputation is all the more amazing considering that Büchner died at the age of only 23, none of his plays were performed in his own lifetime, and his only work of prose fiction also remained unfinished. Indeed, only one of his works was published without alteration or censorship before his death: his doctoral dissertation on the nervous system of fish.

Büchner dissertation 2
Büchner’s (uncontroversial) dissertation, in  Mémoires de la Société d'histoire naturelle de Strasbourg, tom. 2 (Strasbourg, [1836]), British Library shelfmark Ac.2858.

Büchner was involved in both literature and radical politics from his student days. In 1834 he wrote the pamphlet Der Hessische Landbote, a call for revolution with the slogan “Friede den Hütten! Krieg den Palästen” (Peace to the huts! War to the palaces!). The pamphlet was revised and published by Friedrich Ludwig Weidig and, although Büchner apparently repudiated Weidig’s revised text, he was forced into exile as a result of its publication.

Büchner Landbote
The (very controversial) pamphlet Der hessische Landbote. Image from Wikimedia commons; the British Library holds a facsimile edition (Marburg, 1973) at X.909/30246.

His plays also have a radical social edge. Dantons Tod, set during the French Revolution, depicts the conflict between Danton and Robespierre. The comedy Leonce und Lena satirises the small, absolutist German states of the time: its hero and heroine, prince and princess of the states of Popo and Pipi, each run away to avoid their arranged marriage only to meet, fall in love, and eventually end up married and resigned to the meaningless court life they had sought to flee.

The unfinished novella Lenz, based on a real episode in the life of the 18th-century playwright J.M.R. Lenz, is more concerned with human psychology as Lenz seeks refuge in a small mountain village from the mental illness that increasingly torments him.

Social and psychological themes come together in Woyzeck, the story of a poor soldier trying to support his common-law wife Marie and their child. Overwork, exploitation and poverty are destroying him physically and mentally, and he is haunted by apocalyptic visions. When Marie is seduced by another man, Woyzeck kills her in an act of desperate violence.

Woyzeck was first published in 1870 and its unsparing depiction of poverty and cast of mainly working-class characters, unique in Büchner’s own day, immediately appealed to the Naturalist writers of the time. A generation later its fragmentary form and hallucinatory images made it equally attractive to the Expressionists. 

It is perhaps Woyzeck above all which has gained Büchner the reputation of a writer ahead of his time, but all his works demonstrate the formal, linguistic and intellectual boldness which make him seem so modern. His early death deprived German literature of a major talent, and makes him the country’s greatest literary “what if…?”

Susan Reed, Lead Curator Germanic Studies

Portrait of Georg Büchner

The best-known image of Büchner, used as the frontispiece to the first complete edition of his works, Georg Büchner's sämmtliche Werke und handschriftlicher Nachlass ... herausgegeben von Karl Emil Franzos (Frankfurt am Main, 1879).  12252.b.4.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

14 October 2013

Verdi and Wagner: two composers, two bicentenaries, four portraits

The bicentenaries of the births of Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) and Richard Wagner (1813-1883) are being magnificently commemorated in various countries, though not without the occasional controversy. Last December, La Scala’s  decision to open its season  not with a Verdi opera but with Wagner’s  Lohengrin  was seen  as ‘a blow for national pride in a moment of crisis’; this summer’s Proms were also widely criticised for programming seven Wagner operas (including a complete Ring Cycle) and none by Verdi, who was represented only by a concert of choral music and half a concert of tenor arias. It has to be said, though, that during this anniversary year the BBC is broadcasting the complete works of both composers and that Verdi is more in evidence this autumn in the weeks around the exact anniversary of his birth on 10 October. Finally, the inauguration of La Scala’s new season with La traviata will hopefully restore national pride (even though it will have a German Violetta)! 

The anniversary has also engendered innumerable discussions about the relative merits of these two towering figures, embodiments of the cultures of their respective nations. Verdi’s status as the symbol of the Risorgimento, has recently been  been questioned. Even more unexpected is the revelation that at times during the Third Reich Verdi’s operas were more performed in Germany than Wagner’s.

I would like commemorate this bicentenary year with a brief, and uncontroversial, look at portraits of the two composers in old age, painted in the 1880s and 1890s, Verdi  by Giovanni Boldini, and Wagner by Pierre-Auguste Renoir.

Giovanni Boldini (1842-1931) was an immensely successful society portrait painter. He was one of the ‘Italians in Paris’ who worked in the orbit of Degas and his two portraits of Verdi were painted  in the spring of 1886, during the composer’s brief visit to Paris to hear the baritone Victor Maurel, who went on to create the roles of  Iago and Falstaff, in the composer’s last two operas. The first portrait was the larger, more official and sober oil painting which Verdi later presented to the Rest Home for Musicians, which he himself had founded.

Portrait of Verdi, seated
Portrait of Giuseppe Verdi seated.  1886. Milan, Oil on canvas. 

Boldini, who was dissatisfied with that first portrait, invited Verdi to a second sitting in which the pastel portrait in a top hat and  a scarf knotted at his neck, was finished in just  three hours.

Portrait of Verdi with a top hat and scarf
Giovanni Boldini (1842-1931) Portrait of Giuseppe Verdi in a Top Hat.  1886. Rome, Galleria nazionale d’arte moderna.  Pastel on board.

It is a more delicate, informal and lively work, and Boldini liked it so much that he kept it in his studio, refusing to sell it to eager buyers (including the Prince of Wales). He lent it, however, to various important exhibitions and its fame spread, especially after Verdi’s publisher Giulio Ricordi  commissioned an etching after it. In 1918 Boldini finally presented it to the Galleria nazionale d’arte moderna in Rome. It is now one of the most reproduced portraits of Verdi.

Renoir’s portrait of Wagner (now in the Musée d’Orsay) was painted just one year before the composer’s death

Portrait of Wagner
Pierre-Auguste Renoir  Portrait of Richard Wagner. 15 January 1882 Paris, Musée d’Orsay.

The artist, whose circle of friends included numerous Wagner enthusiasts at a time of considerable anti-German feeling in France after the Franco-Prussian War, was in Naples when he received a commission from a French music lover, the magistrate Antoine Lascoux, to paint a portrait of the composer. After several misadventures on his journey to Palermo, amusingly recounted in a letter to a friend, he was finally received by Wagner, who was staying at the Grand Hotel et des Palmes.

The portrait was painted in just 35 minutes, on 15 January 1882, two days after Wagner had completed the orchestral score of Parsifal. The session, also documented in Cosima Wagner’s diary, was by all accounts a jovial occasion, though Renoir was very nervous and was shocked by Wagner’s comments about painting and his anti-Semitic remarks. Wagner was amused by Renoir’s nervousness and grimacing while painting, and commented that the portrait made him look like ‘a protestant pastor’ (in Renoir’s account) or ‘the embryo of an angel, an oyster swallowed by an epicure’ (in Cosima’s).

A copy of the 1882 portrait was commissioned by another French Wagner enthusiast, Paul-Alfred Chéramy. This version (now in the Bibliothèque-Musée de l'Opéra National de Paris) is smaller and sketchier than the original.

Portrait of Wagner
Pierre-Auguste Renoir  Portrait of Richard Wagner. 1893. Paris, Musée del’Opéra.

Renoir visited Bayreuth in 1896 but was bored by the length of the operas. Moreover, he detested the new development of performances taking place in a darkened auditorium that deprived him the pleasure of observing the activities of other spectators.

This celebration of these two great composers will, however, have to end on a sad note – the recent death of Patrice Chéreau. Chéreau’s 1976 centenary production of the Ring cycle in Bayreuth is now,  like Giorgio Strehler’s  productions of Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra and Macbeth, the stuff of operatic legend.

Chris Michaelides, Curator Italian and Modern Greek studies

References:

Barbara Ehrlich White, Renoir, his life, art, and letters. (New York, 2010) LC.31.b.8596

Jean Renoir,  Renoir, my father  (London, 1962)  7852.s.52.

Boldini / a cura di Francesca Dini, Fernando Mazzocca, Carlo Sisi.  (Venice, 2005) YF.2006.b.182

Cosima Wagner, Die Tagebücher, ediert und kommentiert von Martin Gregor-Dellin und Dietrich Mack (Munich, 1976-1977) X:439/4604

25 September 2013

Marcel Reich-Ranicki (1920-2013)

Germany’s renowned literary critic, the “Pope of Literature”, Marcel Reich-Ranicki died on 18 September 2013. Reich-Ranicki was an institution in Germany. His programme Literarisches Quartett (“Literary Quartet”) was a fixed point of the weekly schedule on German TV channel ZDF from 1998 until 2001. The programme’s passionate discussions attracted even those otherwise not so interested in literature to the screen to watch. Yet he mainly had built his reputation through newspaper essays, his reviews featured in the “Feuilleton” (culture section) of the heavyweight Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (British Library shelfmark MF522NPL).

Reich-Ranicki was of Polish-Jewish origin and survived the Warsaw Ghetto and the Holocaust. From 1948-49 he worked as a diplomat in the Polish Consulate-General in London; in 1958 he settled in the Federal Republic of Germany.  Within a short time he grew to be an established figure in West German literary life and became associated with the literary association “Gruppe 47”.

He wrote more than fifty books, including works on Goethe, Thomas Mann and Bertolt Brecht. The British Library Catalogue has over a hundred entries for works by him, edited by him, or about him, including Sieben Wegbereiter: Schriftsteller des 20. Jahrhunderts: Arthur Schnitzler, Thomas Mann, Alfred Döblin, Robert Musil, Franz Kafka, Kurt Tucholsky, Bertolt Brecht. (Stuttgart, 2002; YA.2002.a.38364). His autobiography Mein Leben (Stuttgart, 1999; YA.2000.a.4908) was top of the German bestseller list for several years running, and has been translated into English by Ewald Osers as Marcel Reich-Ranicki: the Author of Himself (London 2001; YC.2001.a.21184).

Graffiti mural of Marcel Reich-Ranicki
Marcel Reich-Ranicki portrayed in a graffiti mural outside a bookshop in Menden, Germany - a demonstration of his huge public impact and high popular profile. (Image by Mbdortmund from Wikimedia Commons)

Marcel Reich-Ranicki was a friend of literature, freedom and democracy. His death marks the end of an era – not least because it so happens that two of his great contemporaries and friends – Hans Werner Richter, the founder of Gruppe 47, and Walter Jens – also died during the last year.

Dorothea Miehe, Curator German Studies

28 August 2013

Church - Parliament - Monument

As readers of our predecessor blog DACH will know, I have a research interest in the social and political upheavals of 1848 in the German-speaking countries. So a recent trip to Frankfurt am Main had to include a visit to the Paulskirche (St Paul’s Church) where in that year representatives from all over what was then the German Confederation assembled as the first democratically-elected German Parliament to draw up a constitution for a united Germany.

The church was chosen as a venue because of its large size and circular shape: designed so that a preacher could be clearly seen and heard throughout the body of the building, it lent itself well to political speeches and debates.

Drawing of the Frankfurt Parliament 1848
A session of  Parliament in the Paulskirche, 1848  (Picture by Leo von Elliott, from Wikimedia Commons)

As we now know, the work of the Frankfurt Parliament was largely in vain. It successfully drafted a constitution but when in April 1849 the Prussian King Friedrich Wilhelm IV refused to become constitutional ruler of the planned German state,  support for the Parliament – already fragile –  began to ebb away. It was finally dissolved two months later and in 1852 the Paulskirche’s Lutheran congregation moved back in and the building returned to its religious function.

Despite its failure at the time, seventy years later the constitution drafted in Frankfurt  was to be an important influence on Germany’s 1919 Weimar Constitution. During the years of the Weimar Republic, the Paulskirche began to take on a powerful symbolic role for democrats – somewhat to the dismay of its clergy, whose views tended more towards conservative nationalism. Nonetheless the church hosted annual commemorations of the new constitution and a celebration to mark the 75th anniversary of the  Parliament in 1923.

After the Second World War the Paulskirche was an empty shell, seriously damaged but not completely destroyed by bombing in 1944. When the new West German Federal Republic (which also modelled its constitution in part on that devised by the Frankfurt Parliament) was looking for new national symbols of a democratic tradition, the Paulskirche was an obvious choice.  A decision was made early on not to restore it as a church but to turn it into a secular monument, the ‘cradle of German democracy’.

Today the centre of the building is taken up by a large and rather austere hall used for civic and national events. Perhaps the best known of these is the annual award of the Peace Prize of the German Book trade. Another regular award ceremony is that of the Goethe-Prize, named for Frankfurt’s most famous son and awarded on the anniversary of his birth, 28 August – although there will be no ceremony today as the prize is only given every three years and the next award will be in 2014.

Photograph of the assembly hall in the PaulskircheThe central assembly hall in today's Paulskirche (Picture by Blueknow from Wikimedia Commons)w:en:Creative Commons

Around the outside of the central hall is an exhibition telling the story of the church and the Frankfurt Parliament. This also looks a bit austere and rather wordy at first glance, but is fascinating and well worth spending time on if you’re visiting Frankfurt. On the outside of the building are various memorials to historical figures who embody German and international democratic traditions, and a striking monument to the victims of Nazi concentration camps.

Exterior of the Paulskirche
The Paulskirche today (photo by Susan Reed)

The conservative clergy of the Weimar period might be shocked to see their church today, but I like to think that the men who assembled in 1848 to try and create a democratic, united Germany would be delighted.

Susan Reed, Lead Curator Germanic Studies

References:

Stenographischer Bericht über die Verhandlungen der deutschen constituirenden Nationalversammlung zu Frankfurt am Main (Leipzig, 1848-1850). 9335.l.12

Verfassung des deutschen Reiches, einschliesslich der Grundrechte und der Reichswahlordnung.  (Karlsruhe, 1849).  RB.23.a.28060

Von der Barfüsserkirche zur Paulskirche : Beiträge zur Frankfurter Stadt- und Kirchengeschichte, herausgegeben von Roman Fischer  (Frankfurt am Main,  2000). YA.2002.a.7395

 

19 August 2013

Second World War Soviet Propaganda

Eighteen envelopes full of World War II Soviet propaganda material, containing about 350 items, including leaflets, newspapers and flyers are held in the  Official Publications collection at the British Library (S.N.6/11.(2.)) and were accessioned by the British Museum on 31 August 1955. A short typewritten note in Russian, signed by one IU.Okov and addressed to a Mr Barman survives as part of the collection: “Dear Mr Barman, please find enclosed several of our leaflets in German and Hungarian. Yours sincerely, IU. Okov”.

Okov's note and typewritten list

In the same envelope is a typewritten list of items, probably enclosed with the same letter. The letter is dated January 1945 and was sent by the Soviet Office of Propaganda, presumably to some British counterpart. However, as the collection contains more items in other languages, including Finnish, Polish and Romanian, it is very likely that this correspondence originated on more than one occasion. It would be very interesting to learn more about the provenance of the collection and its whereabouts before it came to the Library. Unfortunately, we don’t have any information on Mr Okov or Mr Barman, but it would be very interesting to learn who they were.

When war with the Nazi Germany broke out on 22 June 1941, the Communist Party of the USSR took a decision  to create a new organisation, which was called the Soviet Office of Political and Military Propaganda (later reformed into the Office of Propaganda on Enemy and Occupied Territories). By the end of 1941, eighteen propaganda newspapers were being published in the Soviet Union in various foreign languages, ten of them in German.

Even the German intelligence accepted that the Soviet propaganda was very effective. Propaganda aimed at Nazi soldiers and civilians in Germany and on occupied territories didn’t focus on communist ideology or criticise religion, the class structure of society, etc. The main objective was to condemn Hitler and his National Socialist German Workers Party.

Four issues of the periodical Front-Illustrierte

The propaganda materials vividly illustrated atrocities by Nazi troops on the occupied territories on the one hand and the strength of the Soviet Army and consequently its inevitable victory on the other. Among various propaganda techniques one of the most important was an emotional appeal to ‘common’ people who were forced to fight a war that was not in their interests. Images of women and children waiting for their husbands, sons and fathers back at home were widely used. Women and children in these pictures appeared miserable and ashamed that their loved ones were fighting on the Eastern front, and these impressions came out as genuinely poignant and moving.

Most of the flyers contain a pass written in German and Russian that could be torn off and presented to the Soviet troops when surrendering. In 1942, after the first German defeats, a special series of propaganda materials demonstrating the enemy's losses was launched. The propaganda message addressed to Germany's allies stressed the argument that the German fascists were using their allies' troops in the most dangerous situations and campaigns.

Anti-German propaganda leaflets

Several items from this collection can be seen in the current BL exhibition 'Propaganda: Power and Persuasion' which is on till 17 September 2013.

 Katya Rogatchevskaia, Lead Curator Russian Studies

 

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