Heinrich von Kleist: The Duel – Der Zweikampf (1811)

Today is the bicentennial of Kleist’s death. I had a few different ideas for this post but finally, after having read The Duel – Der Zweikampf, one of the very few of his novellas I hadn’t read before, I decided on focusing on that. The initial idea was to write about his death. Since his death and the novella The Duel have elements in common, it’s only fair, to at least mention it.

Kleist shot himself on November 21 1811, near the Kleiner Wannsee, after having shot his friend Henriette Vogel. This suicide was premeditated and even announced. He wrote letters to different people mentioning it and so did Henriette. It has been argued that one of the reasons why his grave is hard to find and almost hidden isn’t that he was a suicide but that he was also a murderer. I don’t think we can call him that, what he did was assisted suicide. Henriette wanted to die with him and, as was found out later, had reasons. The autopsy showed that she suffered from terminal cancer. In any case, what is striking, is the violence of their deaths which leads me back to The Duel. One of the most striking features of Kleist’s prose, apart from being very unique, and at times challenging to read, is the omnipresence of violence. Rape, abuse, murder, fights, duels, you name, it’s there. The novella The Duel is no exception. The story that is set in the 14th century starts with a murder. From the beginning there is a suspect only he seems to have an alibi. He indicates to have spent the night with a noble woman, a widow. In order to save himself, he reveals her name which has severe consequences. Upon hearing what their sister has done, her brothers beat her up and chase her from their home. She seeks refuge at the castle of another noble man, one who had asked her to marry him before. Convinced of her innocence he wants to duel with the man who has brought shame upon her and in doing so prove that she is not guilty. Since he is convinced she is innoncent, he is convinced the other one will die.

For those who will still read this novella I’m not going to reveal the outcome of the fight. What struck me is that it is believed that a duel equals a judgment of God and that the outcome isn’t only a means to get satisfaction but will show the irrevocable truth. The duel should help clarify who is lying. It’s aim is not a payback for an inflicted injustice or a libel but it will, through God, reveal the truth.

The story felt very archaic, and as I already said, I was, as always with Kleist, amazed how violent the story is. I’m far less familiar with his plays. I think some of them are even comedies. Kleist is a fascinating writer because there is something mysterious in what he writes. His characters react in a very intense way and one of the predominant themes is always sexuality which is linked to violence. The aggression between men is intense but it’s far more intense between men and women.

The Duel is one of Kleist’s shorter novellas and not a bad starting point if you have never read him. My favourite is The Marquise of O. An incredible story of a woman who doesn’t know how she got pregnant and is looking for the father of her child.

The Duel is part of The Art of the Novella series by Melvillehouse Publishing and in this series part of The Duel set of five novellas with the same title from different authors.

Have you read any of them and which one did you like? How do you think Kleist’s book compares to other duel stories?

For those who read German, I attached this link where you can find his letters. Alle Briefe

The review is part of German Literature Month – Week 4 Kleist and other Classics

German Literature Month Week III Wrap-up and The Winners of the Friedrich Glauser Giveaway

When I did the wrap up for the first week I was amazed about the contributions and thought that the enthusiasm might die down further into the month. I’m glad I was wrong with this assumption. The number of reviews and the variety of authors and books that have been chosen is as great as during week I and II. I would really like to thank all of you who contributed and help making this event a huge success.

The complete links and participants list can be found HERE.

Lizzy contributed two posts, one in which Publisher’s and Authors recommend their favourite German books and the other is a review of Julya Rabinowich’s Splithead which sounds like a most unusual book.

The Magic Mountain of German Literature 3 (Publisher and Author Recommendations)

Splithead by Julya Rabinowich

I reviewed a short story collection by Peter Stamm that I liked a lot and also reviewed Vicki Baum’s classic bestseller Grand Hôtel. While it isn’t as refined as Joseph Roth’s Hotel Savoy it is still a surprisingly interesting and character driven book.

In Strange Gardens and Other Stories by Peter Stamm

Grand Hôtel – Menschen im Hotel by Vicki Baum

Danielle (A Work in Progress) reviewed The Murder Farm by Andrea Maria Schenkel which she found a fascinating and unusual crime story in the vein of Capote’s In Cold Blood.

Emma (Book Around the Corner) read Short Stories by Stefan Zweig. The stories had all a historical theme. She did enjoy it but maybe not as much as his non-historical stories.

Ted (BookeyWookey) read The Artificial Silk Girl by Irmgard Keun and liked it a lot. The review captures the frothy playful tone that covers a dark undercurrent very well. The many quotes included in the review give a good impression of the novel (a favourite of mine).

Grace (Books Without Any Pictures)  re-read The Trial by Kafka which she thinks a most unusual and absolute must-read book. She likes it better than most of his short stories.

Richard (Caravana de Recuerdos) read Doctor Faustus by Thomas Mann after having been urged by a few people. He appreciated it a lot but liked it more for its ideas than its style. His review gives an excellent impression of the many interwoven themes of this complex book.

Jackie (Farm Lane Books) came to the conclusion that neither Jelinek’s Piano Teacher nor Grass’ The Tin Drum are to her liking. On Jelinek’s the Piano Teacher and Grass’ The Tin Drum. Judging from the comments, she is far from alone.

Guy (His Futile Preoccupations) read and reviewed Where Do We Go From Here? by Doris Dörrie which seems to have been a very good read, in typical Dörrie style “With piercing wit and a generous view of human nature.” Guy also read and reviewed  The Snowman by Jörg Fauser. A cult classic of gritty German crime which – to quote Guy – “is strongest in its depiction of the seedy underbelly of life –the cheap hotels, the filthy toilets (…).  There’s an intense authenticity to these scenes, and a sour truth to Fred’s realization that he’s small-time for a reason.”

Rise (in lieu of a field guide ) underlined in his review of Rock Crystal by Adalbert Stifter how crystal clear Stifter’s prose is. A captivating story written in a flawless style, concrete and precise like poetry, as he writes.

Fay (Read, Ramble) read Poems by Rilke which impressed her or in her own words “One reading of selected poems gives a sense of striking imagery and intense artistic purpose but not enough mastery of Rilke’s art to make further commentary worthwhile. Rilke is a poet who deserves several careful readings. All I know is that the more I came to know Rilke’s voice, the better I liked him, after a hesitant start. It is a voice to listen to again.”

Rikki (Rikki’s Teleidoscope) read Maybe This Time by Alois Hotschnig in German. She writes “I read this is German and I don’t think I have ever come across a writer who writes in such a precise way and who conjured such a clear picture of what is going on.”

Scott W. (seraillon) reviewed  Beautiful Days – Schöne Tage by Franz Innerhofer. In his in-depth review he writes about the unusual combination of a seemingly cheerful title with the topic of child abuse. The book seems to be well worth reading, complex and arresting.

Priya (Tabula Rasa) liked Hotel Savoy by Joseph Roth a lot and recommends it highly.

Alex (The Children’s War) rediscovered and reviewed an old children’s classic Emil and the Detectives by Erich Kästner and reviewed A Song For Summer by Eva Ibbotson. Ibbotson’s book offers a wide variety of unusual, typical Ibbotoson characters and despite a WWII topic stays light and hopeful.

Parrish (The Parrish Lantern)  introduced a great book on German poetry, including authors like Else Lasker-Schüler as well as Jan Wagner. The Faber Book of 20th Century German Poems. He included the whole list of poets, a poem by Elke Erb and a lot of other information.

Anthony (Time’s Flow Stemmed) calls Old Masters by Thomas Bernhard a flawless book. It seems also a very interesting book and one that was echoed by two other reviews (in lieu of a filed guide and seraillon). Bernard’s character criticizes Austrian art and artists, among them Stifter. The book could be called a rant but Anthony chooses to call it a tirade.

Tony (Tony’s Reading List) What happens when someone reads Kafka’s The Castle and participates in German Literature Month? Given he is an imaginative person it might look a little bit like this Das Schloss – The Play Act One  – Das Schloss – The Play Act Two  – Das Schloss – The Play Act Three Das Schloss – The Play (Director’s Cut). Tony writes his own “Castle Play ” and adds a review of Kafka’s book.

Liz (Tortoisebook) liked the sad but beautiful  The Sorrows of Young Werther by Goethe. She says “This book is a lovely read, beautifully told and achingly heartbreaking.”

Vishy (Vishy’s Blog) reviewed the original sheep crime novel Three Bags Full by Leonie Swann which read as if “Agatha Christie had rewritten The Wind in the Willows“.

Poor Daryl (Who Killed Lemmy Caution?) was ill but is recovering. Soon we will read her review of Klausen by Andreas Meier. Review on Its Way

Week three gives us a slightly puzzled Tom (Wuthering Expectations ) who after having read Wedekind’s Spring Awakening during week II thought he had seen the height of Austrian treatment of  sexuality in plays but no – he hadn’t read the La Ronde/Der Reigen by Arthur Schnitzler yet. He was quite amused by the use of … to cover up the ongoing activities and wonders how they handled this during the play.

Effi Briest Readalong

Week III

Andrew

Caroline

Danielle

Eibhlin

Fay 

Iris

Lizzy

Tony

**************

And here are the winners of the Friedrich Glauser giveaway courtesy of Bitter Lemon Press.

One copy each of In Matto’s Realm goes to

Neer from A Hot Cup of Pleasure and

Richard from Caravana de Recuerdos

Happy reading Neer and Richard!

Please send me your address via beautyisasleepingcat at gmail dot com.

The giveaway is part of German Literature Month.

The next giveaway will take place on Wednesday 23 November 2011.

German Literature Month – Effi Briest Group Read Week III

The picture is taken from the latest film version Effi Briest (2009) starring Julia Jentsch and Sebastian Koch as Effi and Instetten. Here is more about the movie including trailers and pictures.

This is the final week of our Effi Briest Group Read. The questions have been provided by Lizzy. Please, if you haven’t read the book, don’t read the answers. They are not spoiler free.

Why do you think Effi kept Crampas’s letters?

I was wondering exactly this the whole time. Why did she keep those letters? On the other hand it is understandable. They were probably full of flatteries and compliments that she enjoyed re-reading. Knowing Instetten it was very unlikely he would search her things. It was a pure accident that he found them. I think it clearly shows that she thought he really wasn’t too interested in her or she wouldn’t have been so careless. If she’d been married to a man who seemed to have been in love with her and very jealous, I doubt, she would have kept them.

Did Innstetten have a choice?

Yes, I really think he did have a choice. The man he called, who would be his second, advised against it as well. Hee could just have pretended he never found those letters. In the end, I believe, he doubts his own choice. If he had found out while it happened, I think one could debate, whether or not, he had a choice, but six years later…

Are there any events in this final section that make you feel outraged?  Is that how Fontane wants you to feel?

I was not outraged, it made me very sad. My feeling for Effi was stronger than a feeling of outrage. I thought it was utterly pointless. Wasted lives, for nothing else but pride.

Is there a villain in this piece?

The mother is the worst character, closely followed by Instetten. I could imagine that her decision to be so hard on Effi was because she wondered how Effi could have cheated on a husband she would have loved to have. But precisely this history between her and Instetten might have been part of the source why Instetten never really opened up to Effi. I think that a lot of social injustice could have been stopped earlier if the members of a given society didn’t tacitly endure the rules – or even reinforce them – and I find it especially horrible when mothers think their daughters or sons should go through the same experiences they had to go through, no matter how bad they were. It’s as if the mother was thinking “If I was able to endure it, you should be able too.”     

The lot of the real-life Effi, Elizabeth von Plotho, was a much happier one. Why do you think Fontane made the outcome for Effi much harder?

To prove a point, I guess. He clearly condemns the ways of Prussian society, the regulations and rules. To make it crystal clear the ending had to be more drastic.

Were you surprised by the ending?

The first time I read it I was shocked. I don’t know how I thought it would end but not the way it did. Not after such a long time. I’m outraged to think what consequences adultery had for women in these days.

Where would you place Effi in the pantheon of C19th fictional adulteresses?

I found Mme Bovary very annoying and never really had any feeling for her. In the case of Anna Karenina I thought the book was so much more about Vronsky and Lewin than about her but to a certain degree she is more tragic as she loves Vronsky. Effi doesn’t love Crampas. The tragedy in Effi is very different. I think what makes it so harrowing is that it seems so pointless. More than 6 years have passed since the affair and if Instetten hadn’t found the letters accidentally, nothing would have happened.

Do you think you would ever reread Effi Briest?

Yes, I think so. In a few years, I can see myself re-read it.

Vicki Baum: Grand Hôtel – Menschen im Hotel (1929)

Vicki Baum was an Austrian novelist most famous for her Berlin novel Grand Hôtel aka Menschen im Hotel published in 1929. Although this book made her one of the early bestselling novelists and is still widely read in German it seems a bit difficult to find English copies. But since her far lesser known book Life and Death in Bali has just been reissued I hope that her other books, especially Grand Hôtel, will be republished as well. In any case, it is possible to find used copies. Part of the long-lasting success of the novel comes from the fact that it was made into a movie starring Greta Garbo Grand Hôtel (1932) and later into a German movie Menschen im Hotel (1959) starring Michèle Morgan and Heinz Rühmann. Vicki Baum wrote far over 50 novels, 10 of which have been made into movies.

Grand Hôtel is set in a luxurious hotel in Berlin between the wars. It’s walls shelter a microcosm of German society. The novel draws a panorama of the society and the times, reading it is fascinating and gives a good impression and feel for the time and the people. Vicki Baum includes a wide range of characters, the porter who waits for his wife to give birth to the first child, the aristocratic head porter Rohna, the many drivers and maids as well as some very interesting guests. Including the employees of the hotel gives the book a bit of an upstairs-downstairs feel and permits insight into the lives of the “simple people” who earn just enough not to starve.

The main characters are the guests. Dr. Otternschlag is the first to be introduced and he will also be the one closing this novel as he is almost part of the establishment. He stays here year in and year out, sits in the lobby and does nothing much. Badly wounded in Flanders, half of his face is just a scarred mass with a glass eye, he has lost interest in life. Wherever he goes his little black suitcase travels with him. The suitcase is packed for his final trip. It contains a large amount of morphine vials which he intends to inject should he be finally too disgusted by life. For the time being, he endures living but eases it with a regular nightly shot.

The Russian ballet dancer Grusinskaja is another important character. She is an aging beauty who is less and less successful. Her dancing lacks spirit and the public punishes her by leaving the theater almost before the final curtain. Once the lover of a Russian aristocrat, she is now still admired for her looks but not many fall in love with her. She reminded me of Gloria Swanson in the movie Sunset Boulevard or Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire.

The astonishingly handsome Baron von Gaigern is one of the most joyful characters. He is easy-going, always happy, a womanizer and a con artist. Nobody knows that all he has left is his title and that he is without any financial means. He too was in Flanders but apart from a tiny scar on his chin he seems unharmed.

The industrialist Preysing has come to the hotel for an important meeting. If the business men he will meet, will not sign the contract, he is done.

And there is the terminally ill accountant Kringelein, one of the many employees of Preysing.  Kringelein hasn’t done much else than save money all his life. He has never treated himself to anything and now, having been diagnosed with terminal cancer, he has left his wife in some little provincial town and travelled to Berlin to spend all his savings and to finally live.

Flämmchen (little Flame) is Preysing’s temporary secretary. She is very young, as good-looking as Baron von Gaigern, good-natured but without much luck. Because she can’t find work, she started to model and sells her company to business men.

During the course of three days these people meet and interact. Some fall in love, some help each other, one kills one of them and at the end it’s not entirely clear who is a winner and who is a loser.

The character portraits are the strength of this novel. And the variety of themes. I was amazed about the range. It isn’t only about aging, the loss of success and fraud, but it also shows the aftermath of WWI. The war has left its mark on the people, their faces and their souls and changed the society forever. These people are very frivolous and venal. The meaning of life for them equals having a good time. If you want to have a good time you need money. And so another of the central themes is money. There is a whole chapter in which Preysing and his consultant discuss how they want to raise the value of the stocks of Preysing’s factory. What they do to achieve it, sounds so modern.

It’s interesting that the characters can be divided into two diametrically opposed groups. One group embraces life fully and greedily while the other one is weary and suicidally tired of it.

When you read a novel like Grand Hôtel that isn’t only set in the 20s but has been written at the time, you see the whole difference of a historical novel and one that depicts it’s time. Vicki Baum has an insider’s knowledge that is hard to achieve through research. I would really recommend this novel to anyone interested in the era, to those, like me, who love novels set in hotels and to all those who like a character driven story.

I would be very interested to know if anyone has read this one or any of her other novels. The way she described the society of the 20s is a very anthropological one. I’m not surprised, after reading it, that Life and Death in Bali was suggested reading at university in a course on Balinese culture. Our professor said the book was so well written that it was as good as non-fiction in its detailedness and exact observation.

The review is part of German Literature Month – Week III Switzerland and Austria

Wednesdays are wunderbar – It’s Swiss Crime Time – Friedrich Glauser Giveaway

It’s Wednesday again, time for our weekly giveaway. Today’s books by Swiss author Friedrich Glauser have been kindly offered by Bitter Lemon Press.

We can give away 2 copies of his classic crime novel In Matto’s Realm. I know it’s somewhat shameful but I haven’t read Glauser yet that’s why I included the description of the Bitter Lemon Press Glauser Page for you.

Finalist for the 2005 CWA Gold Dagger Award.

A child murderer escapes from an insane asylum in Bern. The stakes get higher when Sergeant Studer discovers the director’s body, neck broken, in the boiler room of the madhouse. The intuitive Studer is drawn into the workings of an institution that darkly mirrors the world outside. Even he cannot escape the pull of the no-man’s-land between reason and madness where Matto, the spirit of insanity, reigns.

Translated into four languages, In Matto’s Realm was originally published in 1936. This European crime classic, now available for the first time in English, is the second in the Sergeant Studer series from Bitter Lemon Press.

Author Information
Friedrich Glauser was born in Vienna in 1896. Often referred to as the Swiss Simenon, he died aged forty-two a few days before he was due to be married. Diagnosed a schizophrenic, addicted to morphine…

The Translator
Mike Mitchell has translated some thirty books, including ‘Simplicissimus’ by Grimmelshausen and all the novels of Gustav Meyrink. He won the 1998 Schlegel-Tieck German translation prize.

If you would like to win one of the books, please leave a comment. The only condition is that you have been participating in German Literature Month, either with comments, posts or reading along. No need to have your own blog.

The giveaway is open internationally, the books will be shipped by the editor. The winner will be announced on Sunday November 20 at 18.00 – European – (Zürich) time.

Peter Stamm: In Strange Gardens and Other Stories – Blitzeis und In fremden Gärten (1999/2003)

In Strange Gardens: And Other Stories by Peter Stamm

In these stories, Stamm’s clean style expresses despair without flash, through softness and small gestures, with disarming retorts full of derision and infinite tenderness. There, where life hesitates, ready to tip over—with nothing yet played out—is where these people and their stories exist. For us, they all become exceptional.  “Sensitive and unnerving. . . . An uncommonly intimate work, one that will remind the reader of his or her own lived experience with a greater intensity than many of the books that are published right here at home.”

I had a hard time picking a Swiss author for German Literature Month as there are so many good ones to pick from. I chose Peter Stamm because the reviews in Swiss and German newspapers tend to be full of praise but I have never read anything by him. Most of what Stamm has written is translated into English, his novels as well as his short stories. I got Agnes (Agnes German), his first novel but from the English and German reviews I know, it’s his only controversial book, one that you either love or hate. I was much more in the mood to read something that critics called one of “the most beautiful and important books” or “one of the most remarkable achievements of contemporary literature written in German”. And so I chose to read his short story collection Blitzeis. You can find it in the English collection In Strange Gardens and Other Stories that combines two German collections, Blitzeis and In fremden Gärten.

Since I have finished the book I tiptoe around this review. The stories are saturated with a fleeting beauty that is hard to capture. What exactly was it that made me love those stories so much? So much that for the first time, I regretted reading short stories and not a novel. I would have loved to go on reading each and every single one of those stories. Nothing much happens in these pages. People dream and float and meet others. They live some moments of intensity, of joy, of disappointment, of regret. The stories take place in different countries, one is set in Switzerland, some in New York, one in Sweden, another one in Italy, one in the Netherlands. The characters are often from Switzerland, they meet people abroad, are fascinated by the cities and the landscapes they don’t know, some are happy to return to Switzerland, some will stay abroad. They enjoy moments in which nothing much happens.

These stories are, as I said, not so much about plot or even atmosphere but about mood. They achieve to convey a wide range of moods. Sadness, melancholy, joy, apathy… each and every story captures either one or more of these emotional states. At times I was reminded of some Japanese stories and their celebration of fleetingness, at times they reminded me of Anna Gavalda’s first short story collection Je voudrais que quelq’un m’attende quelque partI Wish Someone Were Waiting For Me Somewhere.

To give you a better impression I will pick two stories.

In the Outer Suburbs (In den Aussenbezirken) is the story of a chance encounter. A young Swiss man is walking the streets of New York on an early Christmas morning. He is hung over from the night before in which he had a party with friends. Too much alcohol and too many cigarettes were involved. He walks aimlessly through the streets and feels as if he sees them for the first time. He finally enters a bar and is drawn into a conversation with a drunk whom everyone seems to avoid. Without prejudice or preconceived ideas he listens to the man and they drink together. The drunk is full of wisdom, talks about poetry, and the difference of love poems written by men or women. After a long while they leave the bar together. The afternoon is still bright, although they expected that the night had already fallen. When they part, the drunk thanks him for a beautiful afternoon.

Passion (Passion) is the story of a love in its final hours. The beauty of the Italian summer, the happiness of the narrator who lies awake in the hot night listening to his friends talk below the open window of his sleeping room, contrast with the feeling of an imminent ending. He wants to break up with his girlfriend but when she finally leaves him, he is disappointed.

Peter Stamm’s stories may very well be the greatest discovery of German Literature Month for me. I loved each and every one of them and wanted to go on reading. I can’t wait to read one of his novels. I already got An einem Tag wie diesem – On a Day Like This and it’s likely that I will review it during the last week of German Literature Month.

The review is part of German Literature Month – Week 3 Switzerland and Austria

German Literature Month – Effi Briest Group Read Week II

This is the second week of our Effi Briest Group Read. This week the questions have been sent out by me.

What strikes you most in this novel,  what do you like or dislike the most?

What strikes me personally most is that I don’t dislike anything. I find no superfluous words, no false tones in this novel. I think it’s an incredibly accomplished book that is as moving the second time as it was the first time I read it.

I really love everything about the book but I do have pretty strong reactions towards some of the characters. Instetten is for me, this time, a pompous insufferable git. I truly hate people who think they are superior. He patronizes Effi wherever he can. He is very rigid and follows rules and orders.

Do you think Fontane likes Effi? Whose side is he on?

I was wondering very often and think, he must like her a great deal or I wouldn’t feel for her. As a person she is quite opposite to myself or people I’m usually interested in, now as well as when I was 17. She isn’t introspective but fun-seeking. I think if Fontane didn’t like her, I wouldn’t feel the way I feel about her. She is a bit like a little animal that needs protection.

What do you make of the story of the Chinese and the haunted house. How would you interpret it? And what about Crampas’ interpretation?

I’m surprised how important this story is as this is something I had completely forgotten although I love a good ghost story. I think Effi is extremely isolated and all sorts of things play tricks on her mind. I also think it’s foreshadowing things to come but for fear of spoilers I’m not going to elaborate on this.

Crampas interpretation strikes me as spot on and it does enforce my negative feelings for Instetten. Wanting to educate or drilling Effi is so like him.

Descriptions are an important part in Effi Briest. How do you like them and how important do you think they are for the novel?

This question is tied to the next one. I had a feeling that the novel moves back and forth from outdoor to indoor scenes and in the outdoor scenes the descriptions are very important.

The region in which Kessin is located bears a lot of dangers for humans. There are the marshes that can swallow you, the snow can cut you off from the outside, the storms make ships sink. This seems very symbolic and full of foreboding.

The contrast between the loveliness of Effi’s family’s garden compared to the bleak landscape around Kessin emphasizes her loneliness. She would need a welcoming home but the house she lives in scares her as well.

The descriptions of the outside world also seem to point to things to come and the night in which Effi and Crampas sit together in the carriage and almost sink into the “Schloon” (that’s the German expression and I have no clue what the corresponding English word is, I guess marsh) seems full of foreboding.

It struck me while I was reading this novel how Fontane pairs descriptions of cozy and scary. Did you notice this as well and if so, what did you make of this?

For a tormented soul like Effi’s the idea that feet are running over her head and that she is all alone in the dark unwelcoming house in Kessin is very scary. I found the whole novel much more “gothic” this time around than when I first read it. The contrast to her family home, in which everything was cozy is very striking.

Another scene where I saw this pairing was when she walks in the wood with Crampas and it begins to snow. It might be a scary idea usually to be snowed in but Effi mentions a poem set druing the war, in which an old woman was snowed in and the snow-covered her up so the soldiers couldn’t find her. The idea warms Effi, she feels that being snowed in means being sheltered from the outside world.

What do you think of Crampas?

I didn’t think Crampas was such an unlikable character but he is a very irresponsible man. He should have thought of Effi and not start something with her. Of course he is trapped in a loveless marriage as well but he doesn’t seem to love Effi either. He is clearly a player. He likes to break rules and says so early on. I think it’s maybe as much about having an affair for him as about doing something forbidden. Still in the scenes in which we see them together he is far nicer to Effi than her husband and she seems a more mature person in his presence, not a little child that fears to be criticized at any moment.

Fontane chose to describe more than one Christmas in this novel, what do you think Christmas signifies?

Christmas is traditionally a family holiday. There is more than one Christmas in the novel and they are all slightly different. They do mark the passing of time but also show what it means for Effi to have left Hohen-Cremmen. Her first Christmas is a very lonely one. The second is slightly better but she misses her family. What struck me is that there was no attempt at spending Christmas together. I found that unrealistic. I can’t imagine a reason why they didn’t visit Effi’s parents. It felt like a punishment when I read it, as if she was an outcast.

What kind of mother is Effi?

I think she is quite a devoted mother. The child turns her into a grown up but, as it was usual then, someone else, in this case Roswitha, spends much more time with the child.

Where will the novel go from here? What do you think will happen next?

As I have read it before I’ll skip the question of course.

Please leave a link to your post in the comments section or in the Mr. Linky. (To see the participants, you have to click on Mr Linky).