Reading check-in + Day Seven + Appreciation of Fine Foreign Prose + reading notes
Christina Brückner’s “If Only I Were the Richer Half of Goethe’s Life” imagines an inner monologue by Goethe’s lover, Christiane. To be honest, I did not understand this prose piece at first; it felt like a woman murmuring in her sleep. It reminded me of a recent study saying that modern people’s language is becoming flatter and flatter, and that we are growing less capable of complex expression. This made me think of my recent reading notes. I cannot say this is true of all of them, but sometimes I have been padding the word count a little. I find myself becoming less and less skilled at writing, less able to express my thoughts and feelings in rich and varied ways. Brückner, however, uses her imagination to write biographies for these women in history who were deprived of a voice, pouring out to the world their similar yet different inner cries of repression and helplessness.
This prose piece is somewhat difficult to explain. First, it is rather long; second, the relationships between the figures are complicated; third, it has no fixed theme. It is best to read it for yourself, both to feel the author’s extraordinarily imaginative portrayal of the inner life and to appreciate the witty language between the lines. At first, Goethe pursued Charlotte, but the aloof Charlotte made him suffer greatly. Goethe traveled far to Italy, and after returning to Germany he entered into a relationship with Christiane, a flower girl. During this time, Charlotte may have slandered Christiane. This essay portrays Christiane’s accusation against all kinds of rumors and her defense of her love with Goethe. Perhaps for the two of them, they neither wanted nor needed to defend their love.
The most interesting sentence in it is: “As with some people, one recognizes the original value of something only after parting ways. I learned this from the garden: if you do not sow, no seedlings will grow.” There is also a part where Charlotte says that Christiane’s son, who died young, was God’s will. Christiane then accuses her: if your own son had been stillborn, then that too would be the inscrutable will of God, wouldn’t it? So, life moves forward with time; face each present moment openly and squarely. Misfortune is misfortune. Enjoy every happiness, and keep goodwill in your heart.
This post was published at https://blog.lazying.art/html/1781.htm