What do you think?
Rate this book
Elizabeth
Elizabeth and Her German Garden
An alternative cover for this ISBN can be found here.
"Elizabeth and Her German Garden," a novel by Elizabeth von Arnim, was popular and frequently reprinted during the early years of the 20th century. "Elizabeth and Her German Garden" is a year's diary written by Elizabeth about her experiences learning gardening and interacting with her friends. It includes commentary on the beauty of nature and on society, but is primarily humorous due to Elizabeth's frequent mistakes and her idiosyncratic outlook on life. The story is full of sweet, endearing moments. Elizabeth was an avid reader and has interesting comments on where certain authors are best read; she tells charming stories of her children and has a sometimes sharp sense of humor in regards to the people who will come and disrupt her solitary lifestyle.
"Elizabeth and Her German Garden," a novel by Elizabeth von Arnim, was popular and frequently reprinted during the early years of the 20th century. "Elizabeth and Her German Garden" is a year's diary written by Elizabeth about her experiences learning gardening and interacting with her friends. It includes commentary on the beauty of nature and on society, but is primarily humorous due to Elizabeth's frequent mistakes and her idiosyncratic outlook on life. The story is full of sweet, endearing moments. Elizabeth was an avid reader and has interesting comments on where certain authors are best read; she tells charming stories of her children and has a sometimes sharp sense of humor in regards to the people who will come and disrupt her solitary lifestyle.
207 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1898
About the author
Elizabeth von Arnim
189 books519 followersElizabeth, Countess Russell, was a British novelist and, through marriage, a member of the German nobility, known as Mary Annette Gräfin von Arnim.
Born Mary Annette Beauchamp in Sydney, Australia, she was raised in England and in 1891 married Count Henning August von Arnim, a Prussian aristocrat, and the great-great-great-grandson of King Friedrich Wilhelm I of Prussia.
She had met von Arnim during an Italian tour with her father. They married in London but lived in Berlin and eventually moved to the countryside where, in Nassenheide, Pomerania, the von Arnims had their family estate. The couple had five children, four daughters and a son. The children's tutors at Nassenheide included E. M. Forster and Hugh Walpole.
In 1898 she started her literary career by publishing Elizabeth and Her German Garden, a semi-autobiographical novel about a rural idyll published anonymously and, as it turned out to be highly successful, reprinted 21 times within the first year. Von Arnim wrote another 20 books, which were all published "By the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden".
Count von Arnim died in 1910, and in 1916 Elizabeth married John Francis Stanley Russell, 2nd Earl Russell, Bertrand Russell's elder brother. The marriage ended in disaster, with Elizabeth escaping to the United States and the couple finally agreeing, in 1919, to get a divorce. She also had an affair with H. G. Wells.
She was a cousin of Katherine Mansfield (whose full name was Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp).
Elizabeth von Arnim spent her old age in London, Switzerland, and on the French Riviera. When World War II broke out she permanently took up residence in the United States, where she died in 1941, aged 74.
Born Mary Annette Beauchamp in Sydney, Australia, she was raised in England and in 1891 married Count Henning August von Arnim, a Prussian aristocrat, and the great-great-great-grandson of King Friedrich Wilhelm I of Prussia.
She had met von Arnim during an Italian tour with her father. They married in London but lived in Berlin and eventually moved to the countryside where, in Nassenheide, Pomerania, the von Arnims had their family estate. The couple had five children, four daughters and a son. The children's tutors at Nassenheide included E. M. Forster and Hugh Walpole.
In 1898 she started her literary career by publishing Elizabeth and Her German Garden, a semi-autobiographical novel about a rural idyll published anonymously and, as it turned out to be highly successful, reprinted 21 times within the first year. Von Arnim wrote another 20 books, which were all published "By the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden".
Count von Arnim died in 1910, and in 1916 Elizabeth married John Francis Stanley Russell, 2nd Earl Russell, Bertrand Russell's elder brother. The marriage ended in disaster, with Elizabeth escaping to the United States and the couple finally agreeing, in 1919, to get a divorce. She also had an affair with H. G. Wells.
She was a cousin of Katherine Mansfield (whose full name was Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp).
Elizabeth von Arnim spent her old age in London, Switzerland, and on the French Riviera. When World War II broke out she permanently took up residence in the United States, where she died in 1941, aged 74.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 798 reviews
April 22, 2020
3.5 stars
“… I don’t love things that will only bear the garden for three or four months in the year and require coaxing and petting for the rest of it. Give me a garden full of strong, healthy creatures, able to stand roughness and cold without dismally giving in and dying. I never could see that delicacy of constitution is pretty, either in plants or women.”
A beautiful, verdant garden would be a welcome place to sit with a book right now, while our normal lives are on hold for an indeterminate length of time. There are a few obstacles to doing this right now, however. First, my thumb is not the least bit green. Second – this damnable weather! We’re already past the midway point in April, yet snow has decided to make an uninvited appearance nearly every day for the last several days. As I write, the wind continues to howl outside my bedroom window. The tulips that during a decent year I am barely accomplished at keeping alive are struggling to show their faces. My lilac bushes will likely not bloom when they should. The trees are bare, and brown seems to be the reigning color. So to cheer me up a bit, I decided to grab Elizabeth von Arnim’s semi-autobiographical novel off my shelf. Yes, it did the trick!
“The people round about are persuaded that I am, to put is as kindly as possible, exceedingly eccentric, for the news has travelled that I spend the day out of doors with a book, and that no mortal eye has every yet seen me sew or cook.”
Elizabeth was a woman a bit ahead of her time, and one after my own heart! This memoir of sorts, written in a rather loose diary format over the period of just over a year, was published in 1898. Yet, Elizabeth was not your typical housewife and mother of the time in which she lived. What she adored most in life were her books, her garden, her three little girls, and solitude. Her husband, whom she refers to as simply the “Man of Wrath”… well, you’ll have to decide for yourself what her intentions were with this irreverent nickname. Perhaps she could have done without him altogether?!
With much charm, Elizabeth depicts the progress of her lovely garden, the beauty of the surrounding forest, and the various sounds of nature’s creatures. What I most admired was her sharp wit – that tongue in cheek humor I appreciate so well. She writes about visitors to her home, and more often than not she is happy to see them walk back out the door! It’s nice to have guests now and then, but how often can we relate to that sigh of relief when our home becomes all our own once again?!
“I should like my house to be often full if I could find people capable of enjoying themselves. They should be welcomed and sped with equal heartiness; for truth compels me to confess that, though it pleases me to see them come, it pleases me just as much to see them go.”
I admit one thing got on my nerves a bit – Elizabeth’s somewhat patronizing attitude towards those of a lower social class – namely her gardeners and her house servants. I suppose this notion was a product of the times; still, it rankled. There is a section when she has two visitors – one more welcome than the other. The two seem to gang up on the third and this section is where she lost me a little more. I know the intention was to be humorous, but I was ready to get away from all three women and back into the garden, alone! Other than that, I was pleased with the lovely distraction from looking at the same walls of this same house day after day. Whether you enjoy gardening yourself or simply delight in the gorgeous creations of those that do, then this book might prove a welcome diversion for you as well.
“What a resurrection of beauty there is in my garden, and of brightest hope in my heart!”
“… I don’t love things that will only bear the garden for three or four months in the year and require coaxing and petting for the rest of it. Give me a garden full of strong, healthy creatures, able to stand roughness and cold without dismally giving in and dying. I never could see that delicacy of constitution is pretty, either in plants or women.”
A beautiful, verdant garden would be a welcome place to sit with a book right now, while our normal lives are on hold for an indeterminate length of time. There are a few obstacles to doing this right now, however. First, my thumb is not the least bit green. Second – this damnable weather! We’re already past the midway point in April, yet snow has decided to make an uninvited appearance nearly every day for the last several days. As I write, the wind continues to howl outside my bedroom window. The tulips that during a decent year I am barely accomplished at keeping alive are struggling to show their faces. My lilac bushes will likely not bloom when they should. The trees are bare, and brown seems to be the reigning color. So to cheer me up a bit, I decided to grab Elizabeth von Arnim’s semi-autobiographical novel off my shelf. Yes, it did the trick!
“The people round about are persuaded that I am, to put is as kindly as possible, exceedingly eccentric, for the news has travelled that I spend the day out of doors with a book, and that no mortal eye has every yet seen me sew or cook.”
Elizabeth was a woman a bit ahead of her time, and one after my own heart! This memoir of sorts, written in a rather loose diary format over the period of just over a year, was published in 1898. Yet, Elizabeth was not your typical housewife and mother of the time in which she lived. What she adored most in life were her books, her garden, her three little girls, and solitude. Her husband, whom she refers to as simply the “Man of Wrath”… well, you’ll have to decide for yourself what her intentions were with this irreverent nickname. Perhaps she could have done without him altogether?!
With much charm, Elizabeth depicts the progress of her lovely garden, the beauty of the surrounding forest, and the various sounds of nature’s creatures. What I most admired was her sharp wit – that tongue in cheek humor I appreciate so well. She writes about visitors to her home, and more often than not she is happy to see them walk back out the door! It’s nice to have guests now and then, but how often can we relate to that sigh of relief when our home becomes all our own once again?!
“I should like my house to be often full if I could find people capable of enjoying themselves. They should be welcomed and sped with equal heartiness; for truth compels me to confess that, though it pleases me to see them come, it pleases me just as much to see them go.”
I admit one thing got on my nerves a bit – Elizabeth’s somewhat patronizing attitude towards those of a lower social class – namely her gardeners and her house servants. I suppose this notion was a product of the times; still, it rankled. There is a section when she has two visitors – one more welcome than the other. The two seem to gang up on the third and this section is where she lost me a little more. I know the intention was to be humorous, but I was ready to get away from all three women and back into the garden, alone! Other than that, I was pleased with the lovely distraction from looking at the same walls of this same house day after day. Whether you enjoy gardening yourself or simply delight in the gorgeous creations of those that do, then this book might prove a welcome diversion for you as well.
“What a resurrection of beauty there is in my garden, and of brightest hope in my heart!”
September 13, 2021
Elizabeth and her German Garden is a semi-autobiographical book written in 1898 by Elizabeth von Arnim (author of The Enchanted April) about her life and garden in the area of Nassenheide, Pomerania, where the family had their estate (her husband was minor nobility).
Pomerania is an area in the northeast part of Germany and northwest part of Poland, on the south shores of the Baltic Sea. Random interesting trivia: it's also the home of Malbork Castle, the largest castle in the world:
This book is written in a loose diary form and doesn't have any plot to speak of; it's more like hanging out for a year with Elizabeth and her young family: a husband, called Man of Wrath for reasons not really readily apparent from the text, and three young daughters, ages 3-5, nicknamed the April, May and June babies. Visitors--some pleasant, some vastly irritating--come and go, or sometimes come and stay, even when Elizabeth would rather they just left. Frankly, Elizabeth really would rather everyone just left her alone so she could focus on her garden . . . not that Elizabeth really knows all that much about gardening, but she is determined to learn, and she loves being surrounded by flowers.
I appreciated Elizabeth's passion for nature. If you're a gardening lover, you'll probably love this. In this book you will be frequently confronted with paragraphs like this one:
Elizabeth's husband pops into the story from time to time. Occasionally he goes off into pompous lectures about the frailties and shortcomings of women. He seems to be doing it with tongue in cheek, just to tease his wife or bait the women listening to him, but I did find myself wondering just how much he really meant it, and these parts were irritating to read. So minus a star for those sections and for the parts when the gardening trivialities and minutiae made my eyes glaze over. But overall this is an enjoyable short novel about an unusual, intelligent, literate woman and her dislikes and passions, and a charming glimpse into a time long ago and far away.
3 1/2 stars. Buddy read with Jeannette, Hana and Carolien.
German translations (with apologies for any errors):
sebr (typo in Gutenberg edition; should be "sehr") anspruchlos = very undemanding
Noch ein dummes Frauenzimmer! = Another stupid female! ("Frauenzimmer" literally means "women's room;" it's an archaic, rather derogatory expression for a woman)
unangenehme = unpleasant
Die war doch immer verdreht = She was always nutty/crazy
Gasthof = an inn
Backfisch = an immature, adolescent girl (literally "baked fish")
Unsinn = nonsense
Fetzt (typo, should be "Jetzt") halte ich dich aber fest = Now I'm holding you, but tight! or (more loosely) Now I've got you but good!
das Praktische = the practical
Warte nur, wenn ich dich erst habe! = Just wait until I get hold of you!
Frisur = hairdo
Diesmal wirst du mir aber nicht entschlupfen! = This time you won't escape me!
Kreuzzeitung = The Neue Preußische Zeitung ("New Prussian Newspaper"), a German newspaper printed in Berlin from 1848–1939. It was known as the Kreuzzeitung ("Cross Newspaper") because its emblem was an Iron Cross (per Wikipedia).
Trost in Trauer = consolation in grief
Auge um Auge, Zahn um Zahn = eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth
Hebe dich weg von mir, Sohn des Satans! = Get thee away from me, son of Satan! (this is a loose translation because literally "hebe dich" means "lift yourself")
wenn du schreist, kneife ich dich bis du platzt = if you yell/cry, I'll pinch you until you burst
Will Satan mich verschlingen, so lass die Engel singen Hallelujah! = Satan wants to devour me, so let the angels sing Hallelujah!
Spickgans = smoked breast of goose (a northern German dish)
entzückend, reizend, herrlich, wundervoll and süss = adorable, delightful, splendid, wonderful and sweet (I added the umlauts; the Gutenberg copy is missing them.)
Geburtstagkind = birthday child
Schlass (typo, should be Schloss) = manor house or mansion (in other contexts it means "castle," but I don't think that's what was intended here)
alter Esel = old ass (as in donkey)
Pomerania is an area in the northeast part of Germany and northwest part of Poland, on the south shores of the Baltic Sea. Random interesting trivia: it's also the home of Malbork Castle, the largest castle in the world:
This book is written in a loose diary form and doesn't have any plot to speak of; it's more like hanging out for a year with Elizabeth and her young family: a husband, called Man of Wrath for reasons not really readily apparent from the text, and three young daughters, ages 3-5, nicknamed the April, May and June babies. Visitors--some pleasant, some vastly irritating--come and go, or sometimes come and stay, even when Elizabeth would rather they just left. Frankly, Elizabeth really would rather everyone just left her alone so she could focus on her garden . . . not that Elizabeth really knows all that much about gardening, but she is determined to learn, and she loves being surrounded by flowers.
I appreciated Elizabeth's passion for nature. If you're a gardening lover, you'll probably love this. In this book you will be frequently confronted with paragraphs like this one:
I wish the years would pass quickly that will bring my garden to perfection! The Persian Yellows have gone into their new quarters, and their place is occupied by the tearose Safrano; all the rose beds hare carpeted with pansies sown in July and transplanted in October, each bed having a separate colour. The purple ones are the most charming and go well with every rose, but I have white ones with Laurette Messimy, and yellow ones with Safrano, and a new red sort in the big centre bed of red roses. . . .If this sort of language brings a thrill to your heart, you really need to read this book. Personally I sort of tolerated this kind of botanical rhapsodizing because (a) the book is so short (not much over 100 pages on my Kindle), and (b) Elizabeth pretty much gives equal time to talking--and sometimes snarking--about her family, visitors, and life in general, and she can be extremely funny.
These despicable but irritating [mosquitoes] don't seem to have anything to do but to sit in multitudes on the sand, waiting for any prey Providence may send them; and as soon as the carriage appears they rise up in a cloud, and rush to meet us, almost dragging us out bodily, and never leave us until we drive away again. The sudden view of the sea from the messy, pine-covered height directly above it where we picnic; the wonderful stretch of lonely shore with the forest to the water's edge; the coloured sails in the blue distance; the freshness, the brightness, the vastness—all is lost upon the picnickers, and made worse than indifferent to them, by the perpetual necessity they are under of fighting these horrid creatures. It is nice being the only person who ever goes there or shows it to anybody, but if more people went, perhaps the mosquitoes would be less lean, and hungry, and pleased to see us. It has, however, the advantage of being a suitable place to which to take refractory visitors when they have stayed too long, or left my books out in the garden all night, or otherwise made their presence a burden too grievous to be borne; then one fine hot morning when they are all looking limp, I suddenly propose a picnic on the Baltic. I have never known this proposal fail to be greeted with exclamations of surprise and delight. "The Baltic! You never told us you were within driving distance? How heavenly to get a breath of sea air on a day like this! The very thought puts new life into one! And how delightful to see the Baltic! Oh, please take us!" And then I take them.Elizabeth von Arnim liberally sprinkles her stories with German words and phrases that she doesn't bother translating, so I got to play German translator for our group read. Like Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I love to be of use. :) My German translations are at the end of this review.
Elizabeth's husband pops into the story from time to time. Occasionally he goes off into pompous lectures about the frailties and shortcomings of women. He seems to be doing it with tongue in cheek, just to tease his wife or bait the women listening to him, but I did find myself wondering just how much he really meant it, and these parts were irritating to read. So minus a star for those sections and for the parts when the gardening trivialities and minutiae made my eyes glaze over. But overall this is an enjoyable short novel about an unusual, intelligent, literate woman and her dislikes and passions, and a charming glimpse into a time long ago and far away.
"I don't love things that will only bear the garden for three or four months in the year and require coaxing and petting for the rest of it. Give me a garden full of strong, healthy creatures, able to stand roughness and cold without dismally giving in and dying. I never could see that delicacy of constitution is pretty, either in plants or women."
3 1/2 stars. Buddy read with Jeannette, Hana and Carolien.
German translations (with apologies for any errors):
sebr (typo in Gutenberg edition; should be "sehr") anspruchlos = very undemanding
Noch ein dummes Frauenzimmer! = Another stupid female! ("Frauenzimmer" literally means "women's room;" it's an archaic, rather derogatory expression for a woman)
unangenehme = unpleasant
Die war doch immer verdreht = She was always nutty/crazy
Gasthof = an inn
Backfisch = an immature, adolescent girl (literally "baked fish")
Unsinn = nonsense
Fetzt (typo, should be "Jetzt") halte ich dich aber fest = Now I'm holding you, but tight! or (more loosely) Now I've got you but good!
das Praktische = the practical
Warte nur, wenn ich dich erst habe! = Just wait until I get hold of you!
Frisur = hairdo
Diesmal wirst du mir aber nicht entschlupfen! = This time you won't escape me!
Kreuzzeitung = The Neue Preußische Zeitung ("New Prussian Newspaper"), a German newspaper printed in Berlin from 1848–1939. It was known as the Kreuzzeitung ("Cross Newspaper") because its emblem was an Iron Cross (per Wikipedia).
Trost in Trauer = consolation in grief
Auge um Auge, Zahn um Zahn = eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth
Hebe dich weg von mir, Sohn des Satans! = Get thee away from me, son of Satan! (this is a loose translation because literally "hebe dich" means "lift yourself")
wenn du schreist, kneife ich dich bis du platzt = if you yell/cry, I'll pinch you until you burst
Will Satan mich verschlingen, so lass die Engel singen Hallelujah! = Satan wants to devour me, so let the angels sing Hallelujah!
Spickgans = smoked breast of goose (a northern German dish)
entzückend, reizend, herrlich, wundervoll and süss = adorable, delightful, splendid, wonderful and sweet (I added the umlauts; the Gutenberg copy is missing them.)
Geburtstagkind = birthday child
Schlass (typo, should be Schloss) = manor house or mansion (in other contexts it means "castle," but I don't think that's what was intended here)
alter Esel = old ass (as in donkey)
April 27, 2021
This took me a long time to finish, because a lot of it consists of lists of flowers, in long, run on sentences, and because much of it is atrocious socially. Elizabeth von Arnim wrote this in 1898 and so you may say, well, it's of its time. I beg to differ.
Other women were writing before and after this in a much more forward thinking and enlightened way; for example, although she is enamored of her garden and it's beauty, she didn't lift a finger to make it. Her husband, one of the Prussian nobility and a very wealthy man, paid for slave labor from Poland and Russia to work for him. These men and women were watched over by armed guards to make sure they didn't escape. If they were lucky enough to get away, peasants in the area would pay them more to work for them. Also, the women were expected to have a baby in the morning and get back to work in the afternoon. She also has a discussion with her husband about how it's okay for the local peasants to beat their wives and mothers to beat their children and staff.
Towards the end of the book, she has two guests come to her huge, country estate. Elizabeth and her female friend despise the English woman who is her other guest. They continually bully her throughout her stay, as does Mr. von Arnim. I can't understand why they denigrate her, it isn't made clear. All in all a very unpleasant garden party and one I wouldn't care to attend.
I loved her book, The Enchanted April, so this was very disturbing.
Other women were writing before and after this in a much more forward thinking and enlightened way; for example, although she is enamored of her garden and it's beauty, she didn't lift a finger to make it. Her husband, one of the Prussian nobility and a very wealthy man, paid for slave labor from Poland and Russia to work for him. These men and women were watched over by armed guards to make sure they didn't escape. If they were lucky enough to get away, peasants in the area would pay them more to work for them. Also, the women were expected to have a baby in the morning and get back to work in the afternoon. She also has a discussion with her husband about how it's okay for the local peasants to beat their wives and mothers to beat their children and staff.
Towards the end of the book, she has two guests come to her huge, country estate. Elizabeth and her female friend despise the English woman who is her other guest. They continually bully her throughout her stay, as does Mr. von Arnim. I can't understand why they denigrate her, it isn't made clear. All in all a very unpleasant garden party and one I wouldn't care to attend.
I loved her book, The Enchanted April, so this was very disturbing.
August 20, 2020
This is the fourth book I have read by Elizabeth von Arnim. This is the first book she wrote in her literary career (1898) and it was quite the literary hit, going quickly into multiple printings and being published in different languages. She was 32 at the time, 7 years into her marriage to a rich, previously widowed, older count (who was 47, 15 years her senior). This novel was said to be semi-autobiographical in nature. The male character in the novel is called the “Man of Wrath”…I suppose it is based on her husband although in the book and as far as I can tell in their marriage he was not a wrathful man. He just had his head stuck up his ass. Very pompous and men-know-everything and women should be seen at times but rarely ever heard because nothing of sense comes out of their mouths (that is the attitude of the Man of Wrath). This attitude was found in two other characters I have come across in her oeuvre, Wemyss a despicable and evil sort in 'Vera' (1921) and Otto, just a male chauvinist pig like the Man of Wrath in 'The Caravaners' (1909).
I wouldn’t be at all surprised if I run into other male characters with “an attitude” concocted by her in a number of other books she has written — I have ordered some of them and look forward to reading them because I like her writing so much! 😊
I would rate this book as a solid 3.5 stars so I’m glad to bump it up to a 4, and so it joins the Caravaners (1909) as a 4-star book IMHO. I rated Vera (1921) and This Enchanted April (1922) as 5-star books. I wish I could go back in time and go to a book signing by Ms. von Arnim and tell her I am one of her biggest fans… Although come to think of it I guess they did not have such things as book signings back then… Never mind. 🙃
From what I remember von Arnim did not actually have the garden she describes in this delightful book — it is written in the form of a diary with the first entry being May 7 (springtime and how much she looks forward to the blossoming of flora) and the last entry being April 18 almost a year later. It is a figment of her vivid and colorful imagination. But who cares…she makes it very real for us. Makes me wish I had a garden that she describes. The edition of the book I have (Penguin English Library, 2018) is quite nice with a sea of yellow dandelions on the front. For being a noxious weed, dandelions are really quite pretty when they are blooming.
I would describe the book overall as witty and humorous.
Although there was one part I was not comfortable with and I will be anxious to read other reviews to see if anybody mentions it (yep, in at least one review below it is mentioned). The writer of the diary, Elizabeth, writes about females being beaten…physically…the Man of Wrath is describing how Russian male peasants beat their wives…and he wasn’t horrified when describing such a practice but was praising it…I suppose to von Arnim she was just making a point about reality in some countries, and she was not espousing it….the chauvinistic husband of Elizabeth was, perhaps in keeping with his character. Still in the context of a witty, humorous, and charming book this brough me up short and dimmed my mood temporarily.
Note:
As usual in a number of places von Arnim had me chuckling such as in this passage in which Elizabeth and two women who are staying at her house for a while are having a picnic outside in the dead of winter and one of the visitors is freezing her butt off.
• …It is the most unpleasant thing in the world to eat sandwiches with immense fur and woolen gloves on, and I think we ate as much fur as anything, and choked exceedingly during the process. Minora (one of her visitors) was angry at this, and at last pulled off her glove, but quickly put it on again. …’How very unpleasant,’ she remarked after swallowing a large piece of fur. ‘It will wrap around your pipes, and keep them warm,’ said Irais (the other female visitor). ‘Pipes!’ echoed Minora, greatly disgusted by such vulgarity. …. ‘How many degrees do you suppose there are now?’ asked Minora. ‘Degrees? — Of frost? Oh dear me, are you cold?’ cried Irais solicitously? ‘Well , it isn’t exactly warm, is it?’ said Minora sulkily; and Irais pinched me. ‘Well, but think how much colder you would have been without all that fur you ate for lunch inside you,’ she said.
Reviews I came across (there's a whole gaggle of them...these are just some of them):
• https://www.npr.org/2012/05/28/148673...
• Very interesting! In this blog site review, there is a review of the book from The Lincoln, Nebraska Courier, August, 1900! https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/b...
• Another interesting review from the Financial Times, JULY 24 2015, written by Robin Lane Fox:… https://www.ft.com/content/326a5c2a-2...
• From a blog site..: https://www.tolstoytherapy.com/settle...
• https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-en...
• https://beautyisasleepingcat.com/2016...
I wouldn’t be at all surprised if I run into other male characters with “an attitude” concocted by her in a number of other books she has written — I have ordered some of them and look forward to reading them because I like her writing so much! 😊
I would rate this book as a solid 3.5 stars so I’m glad to bump it up to a 4, and so it joins the Caravaners (1909) as a 4-star book IMHO. I rated Vera (1921) and This Enchanted April (1922) as 5-star books. I wish I could go back in time and go to a book signing by Ms. von Arnim and tell her I am one of her biggest fans… Although come to think of it I guess they did not have such things as book signings back then… Never mind. 🙃
From what I remember von Arnim did not actually have the garden she describes in this delightful book — it is written in the form of a diary with the first entry being May 7 (springtime and how much she looks forward to the blossoming of flora) and the last entry being April 18 almost a year later. It is a figment of her vivid and colorful imagination. But who cares…she makes it very real for us. Makes me wish I had a garden that she describes. The edition of the book I have (Penguin English Library, 2018) is quite nice with a sea of yellow dandelions on the front. For being a noxious weed, dandelions are really quite pretty when they are blooming.
I would describe the book overall as witty and humorous.
Although there was one part I was not comfortable with and I will be anxious to read other reviews to see if anybody mentions it (yep, in at least one review below it is mentioned). The writer of the diary, Elizabeth, writes about females being beaten…physically…the Man of Wrath is describing how Russian male peasants beat their wives…and he wasn’t horrified when describing such a practice but was praising it…I suppose to von Arnim she was just making a point about reality in some countries, and she was not espousing it….the chauvinistic husband of Elizabeth was, perhaps in keeping with his character. Still in the context of a witty, humorous, and charming book this brough me up short and dimmed my mood temporarily.
Note:
As usual in a number of places von Arnim had me chuckling such as in this passage in which Elizabeth and two women who are staying at her house for a while are having a picnic outside in the dead of winter and one of the visitors is freezing her butt off.
• …It is the most unpleasant thing in the world to eat sandwiches with immense fur and woolen gloves on, and I think we ate as much fur as anything, and choked exceedingly during the process. Minora (one of her visitors) was angry at this, and at last pulled off her glove, but quickly put it on again. …’How very unpleasant,’ she remarked after swallowing a large piece of fur. ‘It will wrap around your pipes, and keep them warm,’ said Irais (the other female visitor). ‘Pipes!’ echoed Minora, greatly disgusted by such vulgarity. …. ‘How many degrees do you suppose there are now?’ asked Minora. ‘Degrees? — Of frost? Oh dear me, are you cold?’ cried Irais solicitously? ‘Well , it isn’t exactly warm, is it?’ said Minora sulkily; and Irais pinched me. ‘Well, but think how much colder you would have been without all that fur you ate for lunch inside you,’ she said.
Reviews I came across (there's a whole gaggle of them...these are just some of them):
• https://www.npr.org/2012/05/28/148673...
• Very interesting! In this blog site review, there is a review of the book from The Lincoln, Nebraska Courier, August, 1900! https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/b...
• Another interesting review from the Financial Times, JULY 24 2015, written by Robin Lane Fox:… https://www.ft.com/content/326a5c2a-2...
• From a blog site..: https://www.tolstoytherapy.com/settle...
• https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-en...
• https://beautyisasleepingcat.com/2016...
January 12, 2024
This extraordinarily tedious book does not have any plot or amusing incident, substituting instead lists of flowering varietals interspersed with snobbery. When the narrator is not telling us about the kinds of roses in her flower-beds (Marie van Houette, Viscountess Folkestone, Laurette Messimy, Souvenir de la Malmaison, Adam and Devoniensis, Persian Yellow, Bicolor, Duke of Teck, Cheshunt Scarlet, Prefet de Limburg…it goes on for pages), she is offering up such pearls of wisdom as ‘why cook when you can get some one to cook for you?’, or ‘Servants are only big children’.
Or, again, relating the misogyny of her husband (‘only strong-minded women wish to see you the equals of men, and the strong-minded are invariably plain’) as an amusing and vaguely endearing foible. Elizabeth is dismissive of her children, rude to her houseguests, and she fires the governess after overhearing her airing liberal views.
The overall effect of this is like Dowager Lady Grantham reading you a seed catalogue until you pass out from boredom.
Or, again, relating the misogyny of her husband (‘only strong-minded women wish to see you the equals of men, and the strong-minded are invariably plain’) as an amusing and vaguely endearing foible. Elizabeth is dismissive of her children, rude to her houseguests, and she fires the governess after overhearing her airing liberal views.
The overall effect of this is like Dowager Lady Grantham reading you a seed catalogue until you pass out from boredom.
August 23, 2017
Fictional autobiography would be the proper way to describe this book. Elizabeth is snarky and opinionated but in such an adorable way that you can't help but like her. All she wants to do is take care of her large garden and her three young children, and be left alone. She tolerates her husband and refers to him as the "Man of Wrath". He "talks the talk" but Elizabeth doesn't let him "walk the walk". Her oldest baby girl is five, born in April and is appropriately called "The April Baby". The four year old was born in May and the three year old in June, and yes, they are "The May Baby" and "The June Baby". When some escaped cows threaten to trample the garden, the June Baby grabs a stick bigger than herself and holds the astonished cows at bay until help arrives. Little anecdotes like this are scattered throughout and I was pleasantly surprised and entertained. What more can you ask of a book?
February 24, 2018
Totally loved Elizabeth and her snarky, honest self. She wants to be left alone to enjoy her garden and her books. I can completely identify.
January 1, 2023
“It makes one very humble to see oneself surrounded by such a wealth of beauty and perfection anonymously lavished, and to think of the infinite meanness of our own grudging charities, and how displeased we are if they are not promptly and properly appreciated. I do sincerely trust that the benediction that is always awaiting me in my garden may by degrees be more deserved, and that I may grow in grace, and patience, and cheerfulness, just like the happy flowers I so much love.”
After a glorious and grueling holiday season this was the perfect book to read. Witty, delightful, peaceful! I loved reading it on our porch with the sun shining through the winter trees and felt I could chat with Elizabeth quite nicely.
After a glorious and grueling holiday season this was the perfect book to read. Witty, delightful, peaceful! I loved reading it on our porch with the sun shining through the winter trees and felt I could chat with Elizabeth quite nicely.
April 29, 2018
After enjoying Enchanted April so much I was suprised I didn't enjoy this one. I found Elizabeth unkind and shallow. Taking a baby owl from a nest was horrible. I know you have to view this through eyes of the time but I found her views of people from a class she saw as below her awful.
October 21, 2022
3.5
This book really needs a different title. Elizabeth and Her German Garden suggests that this is a traditional gardening memoir but it is only partly that. One part garden memoir, two parts memoir about a bad marriage and a desire to escape most people and society, in general. Elizabeth retreats to the outdoors whenever possible, usually into her garden, where she finds beauty, peace and solace. She spends full days out of doors, reading and spending time with her 3 children. A bonus, she escapes her husband, the aptly-named "Man of Wrath" about whom she writes with great wit.
As a gardener, I enjoy pouring over gorgeous garden catalogs trying to figure out what to plant this season or next. So it was very easy for me to get caught up in Elizabeth's lyrical descriptions of her plants and her dreams about what her garden might look like in the future.
Elizabeth was a great wit and I enjoyed her humorous quips and anecdotes immensely. But there were a few which rankled. These were about the house staff and guests. These remarks sometimes crossed the line from funny into demeaning. Nevertheless, I closed the book feeling mostly charmed by Elizabeth and her German garden.
This book really needs a different title. Elizabeth and Her German Garden suggests that this is a traditional gardening memoir but it is only partly that. One part garden memoir, two parts memoir about a bad marriage and a desire to escape most people and society, in general. Elizabeth retreats to the outdoors whenever possible, usually into her garden, where she finds beauty, peace and solace. She spends full days out of doors, reading and spending time with her 3 children. A bonus, she escapes her husband, the aptly-named "Man of Wrath" about whom she writes with great wit.
As a gardener, I enjoy pouring over gorgeous garden catalogs trying to figure out what to plant this season or next. So it was very easy for me to get caught up in Elizabeth's lyrical descriptions of her plants and her dreams about what her garden might look like in the future.
Elizabeth was a great wit and I enjoyed her humorous quips and anecdotes immensely. But there were a few which rankled. These were about the house staff and guests. These remarks sometimes crossed the line from funny into demeaning. Nevertheless, I closed the book feeling mostly charmed by Elizabeth and her German garden.
March 9, 2021
Che brutta cosa sono i pregiudizi ed io ne avevo tantissimi riguardo ad Elizabeth von Armin.
Tutto ciò fino ad oggi.
Chiudo il libro con una certa soddisfazione perché questa lettura è risultata essere veramente piacevole.
Un diario che va da maggio ad aprile, e racconta il trasferimento in una residenza di campagna in Pomerania. Un ex convento riconvertito in abitazione.
La passione del giardinaggio non è solo una contemplazione estetica ma anche una dimensione di solitudine e pace impossibile da esperimentare in una città.
Con ironia descrive le giornate accanto alle tre figlie (la bambina di aprile, la bambina di maggio e la bambina di giugno: più insistenti delle zanzare, che imperversano scatenate intorno a me") ed il marito (L’Uomo della Collera), presenze che spesso intralciano:
” Le ore volano quando me ne sto rinchiusa con quei cataloghi e con il Dovere che ringhia astioso dall’altra parte della porta. Non mi piace il Dovere: ogni cosa come minimo sgradevole si può stare sicuri che è sempre il proprio dovere. Perché non può essere mio dovere compilare liste e fare progetti per il mio caro giardino?
– Ed è così – ho sostenuto con l’Uomo della Collera, quando lui ha protestato per quello che chiamava il mio perder tempo di sopra.
– No – ha replicato lui assennatamente; – no, il tuo giardino non è il tuo Dovere, perché è il tuo Piacere.
Che conforto è mai avere di continuo a mia disposizione un tale pozzo di saggezza! “
La morale borghese impone ed obbliga di attenersi al proprio ruolo;
la donna, in particolare, può fare ciò che le piace nei ritagli di tempo, sempre che ne abbia.
Così da una primavera all’altra Elizabeth scopre il piacere della creazione:
studiare le piante, andare per tentativi ed aspettare il momento della fioritura assieme alla speranza che germogli anche la possibilità per le donne di essere rispettate come esseri unici.
” La gente qui intorno è persuasa che io sia, per metterla nei termini più gentili possibile, oltremodo eccentrica; perché si è sparsa la voce che passo la giornata fuori all’aperto con un libro, e che occhi mortali ancora non mi hanno mai visto cucire o cucinare.”
---------
” ...dichiaro solennemente che se mai i miei mobili mi infastidissero perché hanno bisogno di essere spolverati quando io voglio fare qualcos’altro, e non ci fosse nessuno che potesse togliere la polvere al posto mio, li butterei tutti quanti nel falò più vicino e me ne starei seduta con grande soddisfazione a scaldarmi le punte dei piedi alle fiamme,..
Questo lo vorrei fare anch’io!
Tutto ciò fino ad oggi.
Chiudo il libro con una certa soddisfazione perché questa lettura è risultata essere veramente piacevole.
Un diario che va da maggio ad aprile, e racconta il trasferimento in una residenza di campagna in Pomerania. Un ex convento riconvertito in abitazione.
La passione del giardinaggio non è solo una contemplazione estetica ma anche una dimensione di solitudine e pace impossibile da esperimentare in una città.
Con ironia descrive le giornate accanto alle tre figlie (la bambina di aprile, la bambina di maggio e la bambina di giugno: più insistenti delle zanzare, che imperversano scatenate intorno a me") ed il marito (L’Uomo della Collera), presenze che spesso intralciano:
” Le ore volano quando me ne sto rinchiusa con quei cataloghi e con il Dovere che ringhia astioso dall’altra parte della porta. Non mi piace il Dovere: ogni cosa come minimo sgradevole si può stare sicuri che è sempre il proprio dovere. Perché non può essere mio dovere compilare liste e fare progetti per il mio caro giardino?
– Ed è così – ho sostenuto con l’Uomo della Collera, quando lui ha protestato per quello che chiamava il mio perder tempo di sopra.
– No – ha replicato lui assennatamente; – no, il tuo giardino non è il tuo Dovere, perché è il tuo Piacere.
Che conforto è mai avere di continuo a mia disposizione un tale pozzo di saggezza! “
La morale borghese impone ed obbliga di attenersi al proprio ruolo;
la donna, in particolare, può fare ciò che le piace nei ritagli di tempo, sempre che ne abbia.
Così da una primavera all’altra Elizabeth scopre il piacere della creazione:
studiare le piante, andare per tentativi ed aspettare il momento della fioritura assieme alla speranza che germogli anche la possibilità per le donne di essere rispettate come esseri unici.
” La gente qui intorno è persuasa che io sia, per metterla nei termini più gentili possibile, oltremodo eccentrica; perché si è sparsa la voce che passo la giornata fuori all’aperto con un libro, e che occhi mortali ancora non mi hanno mai visto cucire o cucinare.”
---------
” ...dichiaro solennemente che se mai i miei mobili mi infastidissero perché hanno bisogno di essere spolverati quando io voglio fare qualcos’altro, e non ci fosse nessuno che potesse togliere la polvere al posto mio, li butterei tutti quanti nel falò più vicino e me ne starei seduta con grande soddisfazione a scaldarmi le punte dei piedi alle fiamme,..
Questo lo vorrei fare anch’io!
September 3, 2016
Has there ever been an author/protagonist that you loved...but that you weren't sure others would love...so that you felt compelled to defend her...before anyone else had even said anything?...
For me, this is one of those books! I adore Elizabeth, both the author and the protagonist. However, I do get the sense that, being privileged, being sheltered, and being solitary, besides, she wasn't always aware of how she sounded. It's not me judging her, mind you. It's those awful people...that I made up.
I, myself, couldn't have enjoyed this book more. It's so personal, so musical. It has that sweet, lilting quality that I appreciated so much from Dorothy Edwards. But where Dorothy displayed promise, Elizabeth fully achieved her vision.
But I must confess to having felt sometimes quite crushed when some grand person, examining the details of my home through her eyeglass, and coolly dissecting all that I so much prize from the convenient distance of the open window, has finished up by expressing sympathy with my loneliness, and on my protesting that I like it, has murmured, "sebr anspruchslos." Then indeed I have felt ashamed of the fewness of my wants; but only for a moment, and only under the withering influence of the eyeglass; for, after all, the owner's spirit is the same spirit as that which dwells in my servants--girls whose one idea of happiness is to live in a town where there are others of their sort with whom to drink beer and dance on Sunday afternoons. The passion for being for ever with one's fellows, and the fear of being left for a few hours alone, is to me wholly incomprehensible. I can entertain myself quite well for weeks together, hardly aware, except for the pervading peace, that I have been alone at all. Not but what I like to have people staying with me for a few days, or even for a few weeks, should they be as anspruchslos as I am myself, and content with simple joys; only, any one who comes here and would be happy must have something in him; if he be a mere blank creature, empty of head and heart, he will very probably find it dull. I should like my house to be often full if I could find people capable of enjoying themselves. They should be welcomed and sped with equal heartiness; for truth compels me to confess that, though it pleases me to see them come, it pleases me just as much to see them go.
On some very specially divine days, like today, I have actually longed for some one else to be here to enjoy the beauty with me. There has been rain in the night, and the whole garden seems to be singing--not the untiring birds only, but the vigorous plants, the happy grass and trees, the lilac bushes--oh, those lilac bushes! They are all out to-day, and the garden is drenched with the scent. I have brought in armfuls, the picking is such a delight, and every pot and bowl and tub in the house is filled with purple glory, and the servants think there is going to be a party and are extra nimble, and I go from room to room gazing at the sweetness, and the windows are all flung open so as to join the scent within to the scent without; and the servants gradually discover that there is no party, and wonder why the house should be filled with flowers for one woman by herself, and I long more and more for a kindred spirit-- it seems so greedy to have so much loveliness to oneself--but kindred spirits are so very, very rare; I might almost as well cry for the moon. It is true that my garden is full of friends, only they are--dumb.
If only I could write back to her!
For me, this is one of those books! I adore Elizabeth, both the author and the protagonist. However, I do get the sense that, being privileged, being sheltered, and being solitary, besides, she wasn't always aware of how she sounded. It's not me judging her, mind you. It's those awful people...that I made up.
I, myself, couldn't have enjoyed this book more. It's so personal, so musical. It has that sweet, lilting quality that I appreciated so much from Dorothy Edwards. But where Dorothy displayed promise, Elizabeth fully achieved her vision.
But I must confess to having felt sometimes quite crushed when some grand person, examining the details of my home through her eyeglass, and coolly dissecting all that I so much prize from the convenient distance of the open window, has finished up by expressing sympathy with my loneliness, and on my protesting that I like it, has murmured, "sebr anspruchslos." Then indeed I have felt ashamed of the fewness of my wants; but only for a moment, and only under the withering influence of the eyeglass; for, after all, the owner's spirit is the same spirit as that which dwells in my servants--girls whose one idea of happiness is to live in a town where there are others of their sort with whom to drink beer and dance on Sunday afternoons. The passion for being for ever with one's fellows, and the fear of being left for a few hours alone, is to me wholly incomprehensible. I can entertain myself quite well for weeks together, hardly aware, except for the pervading peace, that I have been alone at all. Not but what I like to have people staying with me for a few days, or even for a few weeks, should they be as anspruchslos as I am myself, and content with simple joys; only, any one who comes here and would be happy must have something in him; if he be a mere blank creature, empty of head and heart, he will very probably find it dull. I should like my house to be often full if I could find people capable of enjoying themselves. They should be welcomed and sped with equal heartiness; for truth compels me to confess that, though it pleases me to see them come, it pleases me just as much to see them go.
On some very specially divine days, like today, I have actually longed for some one else to be here to enjoy the beauty with me. There has been rain in the night, and the whole garden seems to be singing--not the untiring birds only, but the vigorous plants, the happy grass and trees, the lilac bushes--oh, those lilac bushes! They are all out to-day, and the garden is drenched with the scent. I have brought in armfuls, the picking is such a delight, and every pot and bowl and tub in the house is filled with purple glory, and the servants think there is going to be a party and are extra nimble, and I go from room to room gazing at the sweetness, and the windows are all flung open so as to join the scent within to the scent without; and the servants gradually discover that there is no party, and wonder why the house should be filled with flowers for one woman by herself, and I long more and more for a kindred spirit-- it seems so greedy to have so much loveliness to oneself--but kindred spirits are so very, very rare; I might almost as well cry for the moon. It is true that my garden is full of friends, only they are--dumb.
If only I could write back to her!
April 28, 2020
Elizabeth and Her German Garden is a memoir by Elizabeth von Arnim (a.k.a. Marie Annette Beauchamp) who wrote the charming book I earlier read, titled The Enchanting April. I was eager to read about her German garden and was disappointed that I did not enjoy it as much as I had hoped.
Undoubtedly, Elizabeth’s love for gardening and her German garden is the strongest attraction of this memoir. In an old house where she lives which was once a convent, Elizabeth spends all her time reading in the garden and planning how to tame the wilderness of a garden she has initially inherited and turn it into a haven. It is an idyllic life made possible by her privileged background and access to governesses, maid servants, and itinerant gardeners. This, being the late 19th century, it seemed unusual for a woman to be sworn off all manner of housework. In her words, ”‘... all forms of needlework of the fancy order are inventions of the evil one for keeping the foolish from applying their heart to wisdom.” She is an unconventional woman of her time.
The garden is lusciously described and its beauty extolled. Being a non-gardener, Elizabeth goes about tending her garden by trial and error, and makes special effort to learn from her mistakes. I had the pleasure of looking up the images of the vast array of flowers she planted (e.g., ipomaea, hollyhocks, sweetpeas, pansies, tea roses, etc.). Given my love for gardens, I read her gardening exploits with relish. I shared her enthusiasm: “How I long for the day when the tea-roses open their buds! Never did I look forward so intensely to anything, and every day I go the rounds, admiring what the dear little things have achieved in the twenty four hours in the way of new leaf or increase of lovely red shoot.”
The memoir is written in the form of diary entries in which Elizabeth records not just the growth of her garden but also her relationship with her husband (whom she called ‘The Man of Wrath’), her three children, and the friends who come to visit and stay at her house. There are some lovely anecdotes of her interactions with her three young children that are quite delightful and humorous.
What is not so pleasing is how she, her husband, and her preferred friend (Irais) conducted themselves toward a young English acquaintance (Minora), a student of art who hails from a humbler background. There is some mean laughing behind Minora’s back, which I found repugnant. When Minora was first introduced as an intelligent and hardworking woman, the Man of Wrath had this to say, “Then she is not pretty. Only ugly girls work hard.” and “I do not like clever girls, they are so stupid.” I want to box his ears. He is a creature of a time in history when women were despised. It sounded like the dark ages as ‘Reading is an occupation for men, for women it is a reprehensible waste of time.’ It seems legal in those days to inflict corporal punishment on one’s maid servants. Elizabeth herself regards her gardener with appalling disdain, ”It is dull work giving orders and trying to describe the bright visions of one’s brain to a person who has no visions and no brains, and who thinks a yellow bed should be calceolarias edged with blue.” Not nice, is it?
Elizabeth, thankfully, is quite aware of her transgressions. She expresses hope that the ‘benediction’ bestowed by her garden will help her grow in grace and patience. I hope so, too.
Undoubtedly, Elizabeth’s love for gardening and her German garden is the strongest attraction of this memoir. In an old house where she lives which was once a convent, Elizabeth spends all her time reading in the garden and planning how to tame the wilderness of a garden she has initially inherited and turn it into a haven. It is an idyllic life made possible by her privileged background and access to governesses, maid servants, and itinerant gardeners. This, being the late 19th century, it seemed unusual for a woman to be sworn off all manner of housework. In her words, ”‘... all forms of needlework of the fancy order are inventions of the evil one for keeping the foolish from applying their heart to wisdom.” She is an unconventional woman of her time.
The garden is lusciously described and its beauty extolled. Being a non-gardener, Elizabeth goes about tending her garden by trial and error, and makes special effort to learn from her mistakes. I had the pleasure of looking up the images of the vast array of flowers she planted (e.g., ipomaea, hollyhocks, sweetpeas, pansies, tea roses, etc.). Given my love for gardens, I read her gardening exploits with relish. I shared her enthusiasm: “How I long for the day when the tea-roses open their buds! Never did I look forward so intensely to anything, and every day I go the rounds, admiring what the dear little things have achieved in the twenty four hours in the way of new leaf or increase of lovely red shoot.”
The memoir is written in the form of diary entries in which Elizabeth records not just the growth of her garden but also her relationship with her husband (whom she called ‘The Man of Wrath’), her three children, and the friends who come to visit and stay at her house. There are some lovely anecdotes of her interactions with her three young children that are quite delightful and humorous.
What is not so pleasing is how she, her husband, and her preferred friend (Irais) conducted themselves toward a young English acquaintance (Minora), a student of art who hails from a humbler background. There is some mean laughing behind Minora’s back, which I found repugnant. When Minora was first introduced as an intelligent and hardworking woman, the Man of Wrath had this to say, “Then she is not pretty. Only ugly girls work hard.” and “I do not like clever girls, they are so stupid.” I want to box his ears. He is a creature of a time in history when women were despised. It sounded like the dark ages as ‘Reading is an occupation for men, for women it is a reprehensible waste of time.’ It seems legal in those days to inflict corporal punishment on one’s maid servants. Elizabeth herself regards her gardener with appalling disdain, ”It is dull work giving orders and trying to describe the bright visions of one’s brain to a person who has no visions and no brains, and who thinks a yellow bed should be calceolarias edged with blue.” Not nice, is it?
Elizabeth, thankfully, is quite aware of her transgressions. She expresses hope that the ‘benediction’ bestowed by her garden will help her grow in grace and patience. I hope so, too.
April 15, 2021
This is an autobiographical fiction written in the form of a diary entry. Elizabeth (though her true christened name is Mary) who married a German count twice her age had little in common with her husband. The husband being of the German aristocracy, Elizabeth was additionally burdened with the traditions, expectations and conventions. Stuck in a foreign land with an overbearing husband, Elizabeth took in to gardening and writing as a solace. Through Elizabeth and her German Garden, she tells us her story with a bit of fiction here and there thrown in.
The major part of this narrative is dedicated to the garden and gardening. But in between the lines as well as through many expressions, the readers get a good insight into what Elizabeth's life was. German aristocratic life was different from what she was used to. Her ways differed. Her love of nature and to be lost in its beauty was incomprehensible to the German society. Also her love for book shocked them. So the German society had no scruple in labeling her an "eccentric". However, amidst all opposition, she works on what is close to her heart, what gives her peace and comfort, and most importantly, what helps her to balance and incompatible marriage; she works on her garden and her writing. I actually admired Elizabeth in this account. She was strong, courageous and optimistic. Without letting the situation she found herself in depresses her, she finds a way to make the best out of it. She is a woman to be commended.
There was a lot of satire here which made it an interesting read. The satire was directed at all quarters - her own self, her husband, her friends, relations, acquaintances and her household. I found it quite amusing that she should refer to her husband as "the man of wrath" and her babies as "April baby", " May baby" and "June baby". These interesting expressions gave a novelty to her writing.
Overall it was an interesting read. I enjoyed story of her life, her satire, and her beautiful descriptions of nature, its landscape, and of course her garden. Had I been a gardening enthusiast, perhaps I would have enjoyed it more.
The major part of this narrative is dedicated to the garden and gardening. But in between the lines as well as through many expressions, the readers get a good insight into what Elizabeth's life was. German aristocratic life was different from what she was used to. Her ways differed. Her love of nature and to be lost in its beauty was incomprehensible to the German society. Also her love for book shocked them. So the German society had no scruple in labeling her an "eccentric". However, amidst all opposition, she works on what is close to her heart, what gives her peace and comfort, and most importantly, what helps her to balance and incompatible marriage; she works on her garden and her writing. I actually admired Elizabeth in this account. She was strong, courageous and optimistic. Without letting the situation she found herself in depresses her, she finds a way to make the best out of it. She is a woman to be commended.
There was a lot of satire here which made it an interesting read. The satire was directed at all quarters - her own self, her husband, her friends, relations, acquaintances and her household. I found it quite amusing that she should refer to her husband as "the man of wrath" and her babies as "April baby", " May baby" and "June baby". These interesting expressions gave a novelty to her writing.
Overall it was an interesting read. I enjoyed story of her life, her satire, and her beautiful descriptions of nature, its landscape, and of course her garden. Had I been a gardening enthusiast, perhaps I would have enjoyed it more.
September 14, 2019
This is Elizabeth von Arnim's first book and I could tell because I've read other books by her and enjoyed them much more than this one. First, for me, the book was really hard to get into. Although it supposedly read like a diary, for me it really didn't, as I've read other "diary" type books that really drew me in immediately. Second, the descriptions of all the flowers and the garden were longish and slightly boring since I'm not into gardening, at all (I unfortunately kill everything!). I'm sure others will love this book because of all the pretty little flowers but not me.
August 21, 2020
This is classified as a piece of semi-autobiographical literature and a classic. It was published in 1898, when Elizabeth von Arnim (1866-1941) was still married to her first husband Henning August von Arnim-Schlagenthin, a Prussian aristocrat. Married in 1891 she became known as Elizabeth von Arnim, although she was born Mary Annette Beauchamp. This is a woman who came to be known under several names, but Elizabeth von Arnim became her most used pen name and by which she is known to family and friends. She was British, but born in Australia. Soon after marriage, she came to live at her husband’s family estate in Nassenheide, Pomerania, now in Poland.
So why have I told you all this? How is this related to the bok? Elizabeth and Her German Garden, written in loose diary format, is about Elizabeth's garden and life there on the estate in Nassenheide. Gardening was her favorite pastime. Gardening and writing became her means of escape while struggling to find a foothold in the foreign culture of the high-class German society to which her husband belonged. Moreover, her husband’s lifestyle soon proved to be incompatible to her own. Arriving in Pomerania she had three little girls, three, four and five years of age, who in the book she amusingly refers to as her June, May and April babies, respectively The diary covers a little more than one year, starting in March and ending the following April. It covers not only what she does in her garden but what she does over the winter months too—the Christmas holiday when two women visit for three weeks. Only through polite persuasion, do they then finally depart. Ice-skating and sleigh rides and winter picnics occupy them. One woman is a friend. The other she invites at the request of a friend.
There is one other I have yet to speak of—Elizabeth’s husband. He goes by the name of “The Man of Wrath”. What does that imply?
There is humor woven into the lines, all the way through. It is for the humor one picks up this book. Do you see the humor in how Elizabeth speaks of her children and husband? To enjoy the book and its humor one must perceive the inherent satire. The satirical tone is not made blatantly evident at the start. Instead it is hinted at and has you thinking, has you wondering what the author is up to. Is the author serious? Is she joking? This is a large part of the nook’s charm. In the beginning you are not quite sure what is intended or how to interpret what is being said. By the end, in a “speech” voiced by Elizabeth’s “oh so sage” husband, the satirical message becomes crystal clear. Actually, I preferred the beginning where the reader is kept wondering, postulating and considering what is meant. The writing is amusing all the way through. You will see it, if it is the kind of humor that speaks to you.
Humor takes a zillion different forms. The humor here is best described as self-deprecating wit. Elizabeth is a woman of her era. Open confrontation is out of the question. She is a woman of high social standing and remains always polite. Even in her diary she bridles vituperative musings. Yet the reader comes to understand exactly what Elizabeth is thinking.
I like her. I like the standards she sets for her own deportment. She does not mope or complain. She is aware of the advantages life with her husband afford her. She appreciates what she has and makes the best of it. I like her positive attitude.
The book will appeal to those who see the satire and enjoy Elisabeth’s self-deprecating wit. It will appeal to those comfortable out in nature, those who see the beauty of nature, those who enjoy being alone, those not particularly drawn to social gatherings, those who easily envision a delightful landscape if told there are marigolds or poppies and nasturtium or other flowers, snow covered firs, twinkling stars or hoarfrost. Flora and fauna are spoken of, but you must be able picture them in your mind’s eye. The closer you are to Elizabeth’s way of being the more you will enjoy this book.
Nadia May reads the audiobook. Her accent is British. It fits perfectly here. She pauses at all the right places. A delightful narration worthy of four stars.
*********************
The Enchanted April 2 stars
Elizabeth and Her German Garden 4 stars
Love TBR
So why have I told you all this? How is this related to the bok? Elizabeth and Her German Garden, written in loose diary format, is about Elizabeth's garden and life there on the estate in Nassenheide. Gardening was her favorite pastime. Gardening and writing became her means of escape while struggling to find a foothold in the foreign culture of the high-class German society to which her husband belonged. Moreover, her husband’s lifestyle soon proved to be incompatible to her own. Arriving in Pomerania she had three little girls, three, four and five years of age, who in the book she amusingly refers to as her June, May and April babies, respectively The diary covers a little more than one year, starting in March and ending the following April. It covers not only what she does in her garden but what she does over the winter months too—the Christmas holiday when two women visit for three weeks. Only through polite persuasion, do they then finally depart. Ice-skating and sleigh rides and winter picnics occupy them. One woman is a friend. The other she invites at the request of a friend.
There is one other I have yet to speak of—Elizabeth’s husband. He goes by the name of “The Man of Wrath”. What does that imply?
There is humor woven into the lines, all the way through. It is for the humor one picks up this book. Do you see the humor in how Elizabeth speaks of her children and husband? To enjoy the book and its humor one must perceive the inherent satire. The satirical tone is not made blatantly evident at the start. Instead it is hinted at and has you thinking, has you wondering what the author is up to. Is the author serious? Is she joking? This is a large part of the nook’s charm. In the beginning you are not quite sure what is intended or how to interpret what is being said. By the end, in a “speech” voiced by Elizabeth’s “oh so sage” husband, the satirical message becomes crystal clear. Actually, I preferred the beginning where the reader is kept wondering, postulating and considering what is meant. The writing is amusing all the way through. You will see it, if it is the kind of humor that speaks to you.
Humor takes a zillion different forms. The humor here is best described as self-deprecating wit. Elizabeth is a woman of her era. Open confrontation is out of the question. She is a woman of high social standing and remains always polite. Even in her diary she bridles vituperative musings. Yet the reader comes to understand exactly what Elizabeth is thinking.
I like her. I like the standards she sets for her own deportment. She does not mope or complain. She is aware of the advantages life with her husband afford her. She appreciates what she has and makes the best of it. I like her positive attitude.
The book will appeal to those who see the satire and enjoy Elisabeth’s self-deprecating wit. It will appeal to those comfortable out in nature, those who see the beauty of nature, those who enjoy being alone, those not particularly drawn to social gatherings, those who easily envision a delightful landscape if told there are marigolds or poppies and nasturtium or other flowers, snow covered firs, twinkling stars or hoarfrost. Flora and fauna are spoken of, but you must be able picture them in your mind’s eye. The closer you are to Elizabeth’s way of being the more you will enjoy this book.
Nadia May reads the audiobook. Her accent is British. It fits perfectly here. She pauses at all the right places. A delightful narration worthy of four stars.
*********************
The Enchanted April 2 stars
Elizabeth and Her German Garden 4 stars
Love TBR
December 16, 2023
3.5★
This novella is at least partly autobiographical & a lot of it is about Elizabeth's passion for gardening.
I read it as a group read over at Women's Classic Literature & I knew it would be a hard sell for me because I don't share this passion, & quite frankly I hear enough about plants from my husband, who does. The endless planning & lists of plants just bored me, & was part of why it took me nine days to read this very short book.
Initially I didn't realise this was a satire, so the thoughtless I so agreed with the Man of Wrath (as the husband was called) on that point.
& with a couple of exceptions, I generally don't like the diary format in novels. To be fair, this was quite a good example of it though.
I've ranked it even this high because von Armin writes beautifully.
But not the right book for me.
"Your husband ought to bring you to town in the winter."
"But I don't want to be brought to town."
"And not let you waste your best years buried."
"But I like being buried."
This novella is at least partly autobiographical & a lot of it is about Elizabeth's passion for gardening.
I read it as a group read over at Women's Classic Literature & I knew it would be a hard sell for me because I don't share this passion, & quite frankly I hear enough about plants from my husband, who does. The endless planning & lists of plants just bored me, & was part of why it took me nine days to read this very short book.
Initially I didn't realise this was a satire, so the thoughtless I so agreed with the Man of Wrath (as the husband was called) on that point.
& with a couple of exceptions, I generally don't like the diary format in novels. To be fair, this was quite a good example of it though.
I've ranked it even this high because von Armin writes beautifully.
But not the right book for me.
https://wordpress.com/view/carolshess...
February 10, 2019
0,4 estrellas
A favoritos!
Es posible que una corta novela como Elizabeth y su jardín alemán sea capaz de llegar tan hondo al alma femenina. Una historia llena de sentimiento e introspección. Absolutamente reflexiva, no sin cierto aire irónico. Elizabeth es feliz con sus pequeñas hijas e incomprendida por su marido "el hombre airado" con su desdén y aires de sabio; quien ni siquiera es capaz de pagar los bulbos y semillas a su esposa a la cual considera excéntrica. Nada es perfecto. Ni siquiera en un jardín idílico. Su vida transcurre a principios de la Alemania del siglo XX donde el papel de la mujer estaba limitado a la atención de la casa y la cocina. A esto Elizabeth se revela como la verdadera alma independiente que es.
Amar la naturaleza y la paz interior, esas son las reflexiones de esta hermosa novela.
A favoritos!
Es posible que una corta novela como Elizabeth y su jardín alemán sea capaz de llegar tan hondo al alma femenina. Una historia llena de sentimiento e introspección. Absolutamente reflexiva, no sin cierto aire irónico. Elizabeth es feliz con sus pequeñas hijas e incomprendida por su marido "el hombre airado" con su desdén y aires de sabio; quien ni siquiera es capaz de pagar los bulbos y semillas a su esposa a la cual considera excéntrica. Nada es perfecto. Ni siquiera en un jardín idílico. Su vida transcurre a principios de la Alemania del siglo XX donde el papel de la mujer estaba limitado a la atención de la casa y la cocina. A esto Elizabeth se revela como la verdadera alma independiente que es.
Amar la naturaleza y la paz interior, esas son las reflexiones de esta hermosa novela.
June 26, 2012
A lovely novel about an English noblewoman who lives in a house in Germany with a beautiful garden. Elizabeth dislikes her husband -- who she calls the Man of Wrath -- and she keeps a wicked and humorous commentary in her diary entries. She prefers to spend as much of her day as possible outdoors in the garden, even on the coldest days of winter, and gets labeled as eccentric by her neighbors.
The book has so many marvelous quotes that I would have made countless notes in the margins if I hadn't been reading a library book. Some favorites:
"The people round about are persuaded that I am, to put it as kindly as possible, exceedingly eccentric, for the news has travelled that I spend the day out of doors with a book, and that no mortal eye has ever yet seen me sew or cook. But why cook when you can get some one to cook for you? And as for sewing, the maids will hem the sheets better and quicker than I could, and all forms of needlework of the fancy order are inventions of the evil one for keeping the foolish from applying their hearts to wisdom."
"What a happy woman I am living in a garden, with books, babies, birds and flowers, and plenty of leisure to enjoy them! Yet my town acquaintances look upon it as imprisonment, and burying, and I don't know what besides, and would rend the air with shrieks if condemned to such a life. Sometimes I feel as if I were blest above all my fellows in being able to find my happiness so easily. I believe I should always be good if the sun always shone, and could enjoy myself very well in Siberia on a fine day."
"A woman's tongue is a deadly weapon and the most difficult thing in the world to keep in order, and things slip off it with a facility nothing short of appalling at the very moment when it ought to be the most quiet."
"I don't love things that will only bear the garden for three or four months in the year and require coaxing and petting for the rest of it. Give me a garden full of strong, healthy creatures, able to stand roughness and cold without dismally giving in and dying. I never could see that delicacy of constitution is pretty, either in plants or in women."
"The passion for being ever with one's fellows, and the fear of being left for a few hours alone, is to me wholly incomprehensible. I can entertain myself quite well for weeks together, hardly aware, except for the pervading peace, that I have been alone at all ... I like to have people staying with me for a few days, or even a few weeks, should they be as undemanding as I am myself, and content with simple joys; only, any one who comes here and would be happy must have something in him; if he be a mere blank creature, empty of head and heart, he will very probably find it dull. I should like my house to be often full if I could find people capable of enjoying themselves. They should be welcomed and sped with equal heartiness; for truth compels me to confess that, though it pleases me to see them come, it pleases me just as much to see them go."
"The dullest book takes on a certain saving grace if read out of doors, just as bread and butter, devoid of charm in the drawing room, is ambrosia eaten under a tree."
"I wish with all my heart I were a man, for of course the first thing I should do would be to buy a spade and go and garden, and then I should have the delight of doing everything for my flowers with my own hands and not waste time explaining what I want done to somebody else. It is dull work giving orders and trying to describe the bright visions of one's brain to a person who has no visions and no brain."
"Relations are like drugs -- useful, sometimes, and even pleasant, if taken in small quantities and seldom, but dreadfully pernicious on the whole, and the truly wise avoid them."
The book has so many marvelous quotes that I would have made countless notes in the margins if I hadn't been reading a library book. Some favorites:
"The people round about are persuaded that I am, to put it as kindly as possible, exceedingly eccentric, for the news has travelled that I spend the day out of doors with a book, and that no mortal eye has ever yet seen me sew or cook. But why cook when you can get some one to cook for you? And as for sewing, the maids will hem the sheets better and quicker than I could, and all forms of needlework of the fancy order are inventions of the evil one for keeping the foolish from applying their hearts to wisdom."
"What a happy woman I am living in a garden, with books, babies, birds and flowers, and plenty of leisure to enjoy them! Yet my town acquaintances look upon it as imprisonment, and burying, and I don't know what besides, and would rend the air with shrieks if condemned to such a life. Sometimes I feel as if I were blest above all my fellows in being able to find my happiness so easily. I believe I should always be good if the sun always shone, and could enjoy myself very well in Siberia on a fine day."
"A woman's tongue is a deadly weapon and the most difficult thing in the world to keep in order, and things slip off it with a facility nothing short of appalling at the very moment when it ought to be the most quiet."
"I don't love things that will only bear the garden for three or four months in the year and require coaxing and petting for the rest of it. Give me a garden full of strong, healthy creatures, able to stand roughness and cold without dismally giving in and dying. I never could see that delicacy of constitution is pretty, either in plants or in women."
"The passion for being ever with one's fellows, and the fear of being left for a few hours alone, is to me wholly incomprehensible. I can entertain myself quite well for weeks together, hardly aware, except for the pervading peace, that I have been alone at all ... I like to have people staying with me for a few days, or even a few weeks, should they be as undemanding as I am myself, and content with simple joys; only, any one who comes here and would be happy must have something in him; if he be a mere blank creature, empty of head and heart, he will very probably find it dull. I should like my house to be often full if I could find people capable of enjoying themselves. They should be welcomed and sped with equal heartiness; for truth compels me to confess that, though it pleases me to see them come, it pleases me just as much to see them go."
"The dullest book takes on a certain saving grace if read out of doors, just as bread and butter, devoid of charm in the drawing room, is ambrosia eaten under a tree."
"I wish with all my heart I were a man, for of course the first thing I should do would be to buy a spade and go and garden, and then I should have the delight of doing everything for my flowers with my own hands and not waste time explaining what I want done to somebody else. It is dull work giving orders and trying to describe the bright visions of one's brain to a person who has no visions and no brain."
"Relations are like drugs -- useful, sometimes, and even pleasant, if taken in small quantities and seldom, but dreadfully pernicious on the whole, and the truly wise avoid them."
January 17, 2024
A short, interesting, subtly subversive novel. I'd definitely recommend it.
May 1, 2018
Es una auténtica delicia, creo que no hay una palabra mejor para describirlo.
Al principio pensé que iba a hablar demasiado para mi gusto de flores y plantas, no es que no me gusten pero sólo sé distinguir las más conocidas y temía perderme, pero no. "Elizabeth y su jardín alemán" es eso pero es mucho más que eso. Lo que más me ha encandilado es la fina ironía y el sentido del humor de la autora y... ¡Me he sentido tan identificada con algunas de sus reflexiones! que no puedo dejar de recomendar este libro a todo aquél que sabe disfrutar de su soledad elegida.
Al principio pensé que iba a hablar demasiado para mi gusto de flores y plantas, no es que no me gusten pero sólo sé distinguir las más conocidas y temía perderme, pero no. "Elizabeth y su jardín alemán" es eso pero es mucho más que eso. Lo que más me ha encandilado es la fina ironía y el sentido del humor de la autora y... ¡Me he sentido tan identificada con algunas de sus reflexiones! que no puedo dejar de recomendar este libro a todo aquél que sabe disfrutar de su soledad elegida.
July 4, 2021
Elizabeth’s garden helps her suffer fools. Sitting in her garden, be it summer or winter, she can then tolerate unwelcome guests, discourses in disciplining women, and the judgmental British tutor. Amidst Elizabeth’s immersion in the beauty of gardening, von Arnim writes a lovely scene of sleighing and skating on the local canals and out to the Baltic Sea.
June 24, 2015
This is a book to disappear into and I did. Where Virginia Woolf said that women need a room of their own, von Arnim makes a strong case for a garden as that most necessary of settings. As Voltaire before her said that happiness lies in the cultivation of a garden; as Cicero said that if you have a garden and a library you have everything you need; as the garden was where Jane Austen went and refreshed herself and as gardens frequently featured in both her novels and her letters, Elizabeth von Arnim is in good company in that little subculture of writers who seem to enter into magical worlds in both their books and in their gardens.
In her writing style, too, I heard echoes of Austen. The book (a biographical novel) is infused with words of love for her garden but gently filled with ironic comments about her babies (her three children, the eldest of whom is five and no baby), her husband (termed only The Man of Wrath), her friends (whom she doesn’t need often, her preference being solitude – in her garden), her horticultural indulgences, as she calls them, and many other details that made up von Arnim’s life of privilege. Like Woolf, however, she was also ahead of her times, voicing defiant feminist views and caring little what everyone else thought.
There was not a page in the book that didn’t make me smile, hardly a paragraph that didn’t include some ironic comment. This is what she had to say about working in a garden (when she was expected to languish prettily indoors):
It is not graceful, and it makes one hot; but it is a blessed sort of work, and if Eve had had a spade in Paradise and known what to do with it, we should not have had all that sad business of the apple.
I managed to read a bit of this book in my own garden the other day, when we finally had a spot of what might be termed summer. With the roses in bloom, and with their fragrances wafting hither and dither, it was the perfect setting for this lovely little book.
In her writing style, too, I heard echoes of Austen. The book (a biographical novel) is infused with words of love for her garden but gently filled with ironic comments about her babies (her three children, the eldest of whom is five and no baby), her husband (termed only The Man of Wrath), her friends (whom she doesn’t need often, her preference being solitude – in her garden), her horticultural indulgences, as she calls them, and many other details that made up von Arnim’s life of privilege. Like Woolf, however, she was also ahead of her times, voicing defiant feminist views and caring little what everyone else thought.
There was not a page in the book that didn’t make me smile, hardly a paragraph that didn’t include some ironic comment. This is what she had to say about working in a garden (when she was expected to languish prettily indoors):
It is not graceful, and it makes one hot; but it is a blessed sort of work, and if Eve had had a spade in Paradise and known what to do with it, we should not have had all that sad business of the apple.
I managed to read a bit of this book in my own garden the other day, when we finally had a spot of what might be termed summer. With the roses in bloom, and with their fragrances wafting hither and dither, it was the perfect setting for this lovely little book.
August 2, 2021
Delightful but with sarcastic ondertones, especially about social life and marriage. Loved it.
September 18, 2014
Elizabeth is the young wife of a minor Prussian nobleman whose estate in Northern Germany near the Baltic is the setting for the garden she is planning. Elizabeth is at her best and happiest in spring and summer, nominally overseeing the renovation of the her husband’s house, but in truth, reveling in long indolent days in the utter solitude of her garden--reading, dreaming, delighting in each new glory of the unfolding spring. She fills the house with lilacs and rejoices in fields of daisies and dandelions.
As an avid gardener myself, I thoroughly enjoyed Elizabeth’s long lyrical descriptions of trees and shrubs and wildflowers in bloom--they go on for pages and pages. When her children appear, they are charming and funny; three girls, all under the age of six and amusingly nicknamed April baby, May baby and June baby. The girls seem to share Elizabeth’s delight in the spring—or at least they don’t detract from it too much since, thankfully, there is plenty of money for nursemaids and other staff. From time to time her husband, dubbed the Man of Wrath, makes an appearance, putting a damper on things but doing little to earn his moniker.
"It is less a garden than a wilderness....in the middle of this plain is the oasis of bird-cherries and greenery where I spend my happy days...."
"During those six weeks I lived in a world of dandelions and delights."
But in the midst of this idyll, Elizabeth seems possessed of a strange restlessness, tearing off to England in one chapter, and in another, making an odd excursion to her ancestral home, now owned by cousins with whom she has quarreled. Here she wanders through the family gardens, terrified lest a relative emerge to find her trespassing. In flashbacks we glimpse her as a solitary child, meet her stern grandfather and equally stern, but more beloved, father. The whole is enlivened by Elizabeth’s sharp wit and sense of the ridiculous: her grandfather, on the death of his wife, comforts himself by developing a new potato variety which he names, Consolation in Grief.
Alas, winter is inevitable, especially in the north of Germany, and Elizabeth in winter is a different creature altogether. I found the months spent in her snowbound house a vaguely claustrophobic experience. Elizabeth and her friend Irais amuse themselves by casting serious shade on another guest of house, an utterly clueless English art student named Minora.
The hapless Minora is also writing a book: '“Oh, I thought of calling it Journeyings in Germany. It sounds well, and would be correct. Or Jottings from German Journeyings--I haven't quite decided yet...”
“By the author of Prowls in Pomerania...,” suggested Irais.
“And Drivel from Dresden,” said I.’
Some weeks later Minora, perhaps under the influence of too much Glühwein, proposed 'to teach us a dance called, I think, the Washington Post....We remained untouched by its beauties, each buried in an easy-chair toasting our toes at the fire. Amongst those toes were those of the Man of Wrath, who sat peaceably reading a book and smoking...."Do let me teach you. Won't you try, Herr Sage?....Oh come, put away that tiresome old book,” she went on gaily...’ This occasions The Man of Wrath to pontificate for pages and pages about the foibles of women. By the end of January, I was heartily sick of the whole lot of them.
I found the feminist musings tiresome, the insights into Prussian culture fascinating, but my favorite part will always be Elizabeth’s glorious garden in springtime.
Buddy read with Tadiana, Jeannette and Carolien. Special thanks to Tadiana for serving as our German translator. Recommended by Karlyne Landrum and Jane Steen
As an avid gardener myself, I thoroughly enjoyed Elizabeth’s long lyrical descriptions of trees and shrubs and wildflowers in bloom--they go on for pages and pages. When her children appear, they are charming and funny; three girls, all under the age of six and amusingly nicknamed April baby, May baby and June baby. The girls seem to share Elizabeth’s delight in the spring—or at least they don’t detract from it too much since, thankfully, there is plenty of money for nursemaids and other staff. From time to time her husband, dubbed the Man of Wrath, makes an appearance, putting a damper on things but doing little to earn his moniker.
"It is less a garden than a wilderness....in the middle of this plain is the oasis of bird-cherries and greenery where I spend my happy days...."
"During those six weeks I lived in a world of dandelions and delights."
But in the midst of this idyll, Elizabeth seems possessed of a strange restlessness, tearing off to England in one chapter, and in another, making an odd excursion to her ancestral home, now owned by cousins with whom she has quarreled. Here she wanders through the family gardens, terrified lest a relative emerge to find her trespassing. In flashbacks we glimpse her as a solitary child, meet her stern grandfather and equally stern, but more beloved, father. The whole is enlivened by Elizabeth’s sharp wit and sense of the ridiculous: her grandfather, on the death of his wife, comforts himself by developing a new potato variety which he names, Consolation in Grief.
Alas, winter is inevitable, especially in the north of Germany, and Elizabeth in winter is a different creature altogether. I found the months spent in her snowbound house a vaguely claustrophobic experience. Elizabeth and her friend Irais amuse themselves by casting serious shade on another guest of house, an utterly clueless English art student named Minora.
The hapless Minora is also writing a book: '“Oh, I thought of calling it Journeyings in Germany. It sounds well, and would be correct. Or Jottings from German Journeyings--I haven't quite decided yet...”
“By the author of Prowls in Pomerania...,” suggested Irais.
“And Drivel from Dresden,” said I.’
Some weeks later Minora, perhaps under the influence of too much Glühwein, proposed 'to teach us a dance called, I think, the Washington Post....We remained untouched by its beauties, each buried in an easy-chair toasting our toes at the fire. Amongst those toes were those of the Man of Wrath, who sat peaceably reading a book and smoking...."Do let me teach you. Won't you try, Herr Sage?....Oh come, put away that tiresome old book,” she went on gaily...’ This occasions The Man of Wrath to pontificate for pages and pages about the foibles of women. By the end of January, I was heartily sick of the whole lot of them.
I found the feminist musings tiresome, the insights into Prussian culture fascinating, but my favorite part will always be Elizabeth’s glorious garden in springtime.
Buddy read with Tadiana, Jeannette and Carolien. Special thanks to Tadiana for serving as our German translator. Recommended by Karlyne Landrum and Jane Steen
November 3, 2023
“ In the middle of this plain is the oasis of bird cherries and greenery where I spend my happy days, and in the middle of the oasis is the gray stone house with many gables where I pass my reluctant nights.”
This book is written in a loose diary format over the course of a year as Elizabeth plans her garden. Being a part of the aristocracy, she cannot do any of the physical work. For this, she has gardeners, who don’t seem to last long under her employ.
Our narrator, Elizabeth, also has a passion for reading and books. She loved to be in her garden, alone and reading. My kind of person!! I loved her annoyances at guests who borrowed her books.
“Besides, they had a knack of finding out my favourite seats and lounging in them just when I longed to lounge myself; and they took books out of the library with them, and left them face downwards on the seats all night to get well drenched with dew, though they might have known that what is meat for roses is poison for books.”
As the year went on, she learned more and more through books and trial and error on managing her garden.
“ Humility, and the most patient perseverance, seem almost as necessary in gardening as rain and sunshine, and every failure must be used as a stepping stone to something better.”
Where her garden and books add to her joy, the same could not be afforded to her husband. She referred to him as “The Man of Wrath.” She had three little children, whom she referred to as the April baby, the May baby and the June baby. It didn’t appear she had much patience for them as well.
I love gardens and I love flowers, but I do not enjoy gardening so I was not inspired by all her gardening. She is a lovely writer for sure. I loved her book The Enchanted April and I look forward to reading more of her books.
3.5 Stars
Published: 1898
This book is written in a loose diary format over the course of a year as Elizabeth plans her garden. Being a part of the aristocracy, she cannot do any of the physical work. For this, she has gardeners, who don’t seem to last long under her employ.
Our narrator, Elizabeth, also has a passion for reading and books. She loved to be in her garden, alone and reading. My kind of person!! I loved her annoyances at guests who borrowed her books.
“Besides, they had a knack of finding out my favourite seats and lounging in them just when I longed to lounge myself; and they took books out of the library with them, and left them face downwards on the seats all night to get well drenched with dew, though they might have known that what is meat for roses is poison for books.”
As the year went on, she learned more and more through books and trial and error on managing her garden.
“ Humility, and the most patient perseverance, seem almost as necessary in gardening as rain and sunshine, and every failure must be used as a stepping stone to something better.”
Where her garden and books add to her joy, the same could not be afforded to her husband. She referred to him as “The Man of Wrath.” She had three little children, whom she referred to as the April baby, the May baby and the June baby. It didn’t appear she had much patience for them as well.
I love gardens and I love flowers, but I do not enjoy gardening so I was not inspired by all her gardening. She is a lovely writer for sure. I loved her book The Enchanted April and I look forward to reading more of her books.
3.5 Stars
Published: 1898
September 30, 2021
I am a bit at a loss with this book.
I enjoyed it, but towards the end the tone of the writing and the 1st-person narrator started grating.
In the beginning I found her eccentric, but charming, but the more I read, the stronger was the feeling that her tone switched from funny to flippant and patronising either somewhere along the line or it had always been so. I simply could not decide and that made me feel uncomfortable.
Anyways, concerning the gardening and change of seasons part -for which I took up the book in the first place- I give it 3 stars and just try and ignore the rest.
I enjoyed it, but towards the end the tone of the writing and the 1st-person narrator started grating.
In the beginning I found her eccentric, but charming, but the more I read, the stronger was the feeling that her tone switched from funny to flippant and patronising either somewhere along the line or it had always been so. I simply could not decide and that made me feel uncomfortable.
Anyways, concerning the gardening and change of seasons part -for which I took up the book in the first place- I give it 3 stars and just try and ignore the rest.
August 18, 2018
I was told the narrator of this novel was charming. Where was her charm though? She was an entitled selfish woman. Nothing charming about her
April 18, 2012
Where I got the book: purchased on Kindle.
"I do sincerely trust that the benediction that is always awaiting me in my garden may by degrees be more deserved, and that I may grow in grace, and patience, and cheerfulness, just like the happy flowers I so much love."
This little gem of a book, the first novel by Elizabeth Von Arnim I had read, both delighted and intrigued me. It is about a woman called Elizabeth who has moved, with her husband and children, to their country estate in a remote part of Germany. Elizabeth dislikes the indoors with its responsibilities, servants and other interruptions, and spends most of the time reading in her garden. She does not actually garden, being a lady; she says on several occasions that she wishes she could just get a spade and dig instead of having to give instructions. I got a very sharp impression of the restrictions on a lady's life in the late 1800s.
In describing her garden, Elizabeth gives the reader glimpses of her own past and present, and of her husband (dubbed "the Man of Wrath") and her "babies," her three young daughters. It occurred to me at some point that if Elizabeth Von Arnim had been alive today, this would not have been a novel but a blog, because that's exactly what it resembles. As a novel it really doesn't have a whole lot of structure, but its charm comes precisely from the juxtaposition of the freedom and beauty of the natural world with that of a wealthy aristocrat who cannot escape all of her duties.
Elizabeth Von Arnim was evidently a very cosmopolitan woman, and that shows in the novel. In fact, from reading the novel I would have thought her an aristocratic German raised, as many were, by English and French governesses. We tend to forget that the Gilded Age society was extremely well traveled and spoke several languages. But I read in her biographical note that the novel is "semi-autobiographical" and maybe this is one way in which the author distances herself from the text. That's what intrigued me, and if I can find a biography of Von Arnim that untangles truth from fiction, I'll definitely read it.
After the initial chapters which are more about the garden than anything else, there is a wonderful November chapter in which Elizabeth returns to her father's house, a train ride away, and deciding not to call upon the cousins who inherited the property (which was entailed, meaning that she lost her father and her home at the same time) wanders around the garden in the damp fog. The episode ends splendidly when she thinks she has encountered her own ghost.
Then follows a winter episode where Elizabeth has to entertain two guests, a close friend and a woman foisted upon her. Here we see the more acid, worldly side of Elizabeth, and learn more about the Man of Wrath who has evidently earned his nickname. Even though it could reasonably be claimed that Elizabeth acted very bitchily toward her unwanted guest, I did find myself sympathizing with her.
This edition did have a few errors, especially in the rendering of the German words with which Von Arnim liberally sprinkles her prose. Readers who do not know German might want to look for a footnoted edition with translations, or have an electronic translator handy.
I have downloaded the next book, The Solitary Summer . I think I've become a fan.
"I do sincerely trust that the benediction that is always awaiting me in my garden may by degrees be more deserved, and that I may grow in grace, and patience, and cheerfulness, just like the happy flowers I so much love."
This little gem of a book, the first novel by Elizabeth Von Arnim I had read, both delighted and intrigued me. It is about a woman called Elizabeth who has moved, with her husband and children, to their country estate in a remote part of Germany. Elizabeth dislikes the indoors with its responsibilities, servants and other interruptions, and spends most of the time reading in her garden. She does not actually garden, being a lady; she says on several occasions that she wishes she could just get a spade and dig instead of having to give instructions. I got a very sharp impression of the restrictions on a lady's life in the late 1800s.
In describing her garden, Elizabeth gives the reader glimpses of her own past and present, and of her husband (dubbed "the Man of Wrath") and her "babies," her three young daughters. It occurred to me at some point that if Elizabeth Von Arnim had been alive today, this would not have been a novel but a blog, because that's exactly what it resembles. As a novel it really doesn't have a whole lot of structure, but its charm comes precisely from the juxtaposition of the freedom and beauty of the natural world with that of a wealthy aristocrat who cannot escape all of her duties.
Elizabeth Von Arnim was evidently a very cosmopolitan woman, and that shows in the novel. In fact, from reading the novel I would have thought her an aristocratic German raised, as many were, by English and French governesses. We tend to forget that the Gilded Age society was extremely well traveled and spoke several languages. But I read in her biographical note that the novel is "semi-autobiographical" and maybe this is one way in which the author distances herself from the text. That's what intrigued me, and if I can find a biography of Von Arnim that untangles truth from fiction, I'll definitely read it.
After the initial chapters which are more about the garden than anything else, there is a wonderful November chapter in which Elizabeth returns to her father's house, a train ride away, and deciding not to call upon the cousins who inherited the property (which was entailed, meaning that she lost her father and her home at the same time) wanders around the garden in the damp fog. The episode ends splendidly when she thinks she has encountered her own ghost.
Then follows a winter episode where Elizabeth has to entertain two guests, a close friend and a woman foisted upon her. Here we see the more acid, worldly side of Elizabeth, and learn more about the Man of Wrath who has evidently earned his nickname. Even though it could reasonably be claimed that Elizabeth acted very bitchily toward her unwanted guest, I did find myself sympathizing with her.
This edition did have a few errors, especially in the rendering of the German words with which Von Arnim liberally sprinkles her prose. Readers who do not know German might want to look for a footnoted edition with translations, or have an electronic translator handy.
I have downloaded the next book, The Solitary Summer . I think I've become a fan.
August 11, 2016
This story is available for free at http://www.math.cornell.edu/~hatcher/...
It began with the statement: May 7th - I love my garden..
Well, so do I.
The story was first published in 1898 but the years soon melted away. Her memoir was loaded with those funny long sentences containing plenty of commas, semi-colons and dashes that were in fashion back then. It covered one year in the life of Elizabeth von Arnim. The moral to this story? Truth is often stranger than fiction.
Elizabeth married a widower twice her age and referred to her first three children as the April baby, the May baby and the June baby. Her husband was called the Man Of Wrath. Elizabeth was considered by the villagers to be an eccentric because *gasp!* she could spend her day out of doors with a book. Apparently, during this era, reading was an occupation for men; for women it was a reprehensible waste of time. Shhh, don't tell anyone but I have been guilty of this.
Like Elizabeth, when I am outside, my thoughts sometimes drift to my childhood. For her it was about daisies and daffodils and her eleven o'clock bread. Her father whom she passionately loved, her grumpy grandfather and her enchanted years between two and eighteen.
In her garden she reminisced about happy frogs, owls having conversations and roses. In my garden you could find a murder of crows, a knot of toads and some gopher tortoises digging holes. With some beetles, crickets and spiders.
I loved the author's first lesson on buying (too much) seed and trying to grow morning glories. The invention of cabbage salad and the superiority of the Teuton (her husband?) and 'the music he makes after eating his meal'. And her quick explanation of the dejected gardener who walked around with a spade in one hand and a revolver in the other. He went mad and was sent to an asylum. Fortunately no one was shot. Or buried.
The utter randomness of Elizabeth's semi-autobiographical memoir may turn off some readers. She begins her tale in the present but regresses to the past roughly halfway through. She blends family and flowers, weather and food. Then she witnesses the treatment of women by their laboring husbands and was lectured by the Man Of Wrath on the acceptability of beating your wife. These women accept their beating with a simplicity worthy of all praise, and far from considering themselves insulted, admire the strength and energy of the man who can administer such eloquent rebukes. Further, the story goes on, with the politics, prejudices, vanities and weaknesses of the German people at the turn of the century. I am not sure what happened to that happy garden and when the diatribes became commonplace.
Sadly, I don't have a housekeeper, handmaiden, workmen, painters, a gardener and his assistant, a cook, maids, nurse and someone to brush my hair in the evening but my garden is still a far-away corner in my kingdom of heaven. I am at peace.
It began with the statement: May 7th - I love my garden..
Well, so do I.
The story was first published in 1898 but the years soon melted away. Her memoir was loaded with those funny long sentences containing plenty of commas, semi-colons and dashes that were in fashion back then. It covered one year in the life of Elizabeth von Arnim. The moral to this story? Truth is often stranger than fiction.
Elizabeth married a widower twice her age and referred to her first three children as the April baby, the May baby and the June baby. Her husband was called the Man Of Wrath. Elizabeth was considered by the villagers to be an eccentric because *gasp!* she could spend her day out of doors with a book. Apparently, during this era, reading was an occupation for men; for women it was a reprehensible waste of time. Shhh, don't tell anyone but I have been guilty of this.
Like Elizabeth, when I am outside, my thoughts sometimes drift to my childhood. For her it was about daisies and daffodils and her eleven o'clock bread. Her father whom she passionately loved, her grumpy grandfather and her enchanted years between two and eighteen.
In her garden she reminisced about happy frogs, owls having conversations and roses. In my garden you could find a murder of crows, a knot of toads and some gopher tortoises digging holes. With some beetles, crickets and spiders.
I loved the author's first lesson on buying (too much) seed and trying to grow morning glories. The invention of cabbage salad and the superiority of the Teuton (her husband?) and 'the music he makes after eating his meal'. And her quick explanation of the dejected gardener who walked around with a spade in one hand and a revolver in the other. He went mad and was sent to an asylum. Fortunately no one was shot. Or buried.
The utter randomness of Elizabeth's semi-autobiographical memoir may turn off some readers. She begins her tale in the present but regresses to the past roughly halfway through. She blends family and flowers, weather and food. Then she witnesses the treatment of women by their laboring husbands and was lectured by the Man Of Wrath on the acceptability of beating your wife. These women accept their beating with a simplicity worthy of all praise, and far from considering themselves insulted, admire the strength and energy of the man who can administer such eloquent rebukes. Further, the story goes on, with the politics, prejudices, vanities and weaknesses of the German people at the turn of the century. I am not sure what happened to that happy garden and when the diatribes became commonplace.
Sadly, I don't have a housekeeper, handmaiden, workmen, painters, a gardener and his assistant, a cook, maids, nurse and someone to brush my hair in the evening but my garden is still a far-away corner in my kingdom of heaven. I am at peace.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 798 reviews