Valérie Leyh and Vera Viehöver
This essay was originally written in German and was translated into English by Christina A. Menzies.
In October of 1789, shortly after what had been an uncomplicated delivery of her first child, the unexpected death of Sophie Schwarz, née Becker, the daughter of a Courland parson, caused a great deal of dismay in her circle of friends in Halberstadt. Only two and a half years before, Sophie had wed the nephew of the poet Johann Wilhelm Ludwig Gleim. Together with her new husband, the lawyer Johann Ludwig Georg Schwarz, she set up home in Halberstadt. There had been a period of hesitation between their first meeting in the winter of 1784/85 in the Harz Mountains and their marriage in April 1787. Sophie, although more than well-disposed to Schwarz, was concerned that her obligations to her ailing parents in Courland would not be compatible with her liaison to Schwarz. Only after the death of both parents, who died within a month of each other in 1786, did she commit to marry Schwarz.
In the few years she spent in Halberstadt, she gained much more respect and recognition in the circle of friends around Gleim than expected. The admiration she received – less as an author than as an attractive personality – was expressed in a “memorial” dedicated to her in the Deutsche Monatsschrift (Vieweg: 1790), which alongside a portrayal of Sophie penned by Göckingk, comprised her correspondence with Moses Mendelssohn and her story Arindas as well as her collection of lyrical obituaries. Her husband published these lyrical obituaries “Flowers on [Sophie’s] Grave”103 (Schwarz 1790: 249) as an annex to a book of poetry Elisens und Sophiens Gedichte, in the preparation of which Sophie herself had been involved before her death. In the foreword of the collection, the widower evokes the tragic circumstances surrounding the publication and explains that the last poem by his deceased wife, a farewell verse from September 1788 entitled “An den Baron Thuri aus Siebenbürgen,” had not been intended to be included by Sophie because it was “rashly written” (Schwarz 1790: 250). However, Schwarz decided to include it after her death. The poem’s message has become programmatic for Sophie’s lyrical legacy:
Friend, brighten your face.
Time and space do not divide souls.
Thank the Lord! That we saw you,
Man of simple heart, here
[…]
No pleasure is enduring,
We must travel on.
But certainly! At the end of our journey
We shall meet again.104 (251)
Four times, at the beginning of every verse, the line “No pleasure is enduring!” (Schmidt in Schwarz 1790: 252 – 256) is quoted in Klamer Schmidt’s elegy “An Elisa über den Tod ihrer Freundin Sophia” and transformed into a “swan song” (Schwarz 1790: 252). Hereby, the most important message of the deceased to the living is implicitly transformed into a leitmotif of life, meaning “eternal life.” In any case, taken together, the “Flowers on [Sophie’s] Grave” can be read as a repertory of Christian ideology that seeks to suppress the scandalon of death. And not only by conjuring up the bliss of the afterlife which was then to be bestowed upon the deceased,105 but also by admonishing the bereaved, that instead of grieving, they should display cheerfulness and serenity: “Alas! Sophia is laid to rest! / But brighten your pained face.” This is how Gleim himself comforts Sophie’s friend Elisa von der Recke: “Show thanks to your God that you had her, / And cry not.”106 (264)
In the lyrical obituaries, Sophie figures as a fully integrated member of the Halberstadt Enlightenment community – truly as one of them. There is hardly a single word that reminds us that she was a “newcomer,” who not only in her childhood and youth, but also in adulthood, was exposed to completely different cultural influences than her writer friends who had been brought up in Central Germany. It was not until July 1784, when she was already 30 years old, that she set off on a great journey as chaperone to her aristocratic friend, Elisa von der Recke, née von Medem (see Leyh/Müller/Viehöver 2018 and Viehöver/Leyh 2015). This journey was to cause far-reaching changes, and not only in a private sense. As we will show below, Sophie’s attitude about writing changed after this journey. Before an inquisitive, open-minded rapporteur on cultural matters, she became a propagator of education for women – a transformation that did not take place without losses. To illustrate the magnitude of this change, we will first outline Sophie’s educational background in Courland. We will then present an in-depth analysis of the travel journal which was first published more than a hundred years after her death. To date, this work has not been read as an independent literary text, and yet it sheds light on how Sophie regarded the society of her time before she became a member of the male-dominated “Halberstädter Kreis.”
Sophie Becker’s educational background can be reconstructed through statements made by third parties who, intent on honoring her memory after her death, recall her personality and how she made her way through life. The two most elaborate testimonies are by Göckingk, Elisa von der Recke’s long-time friend, and Sophie’s husband. In his autobiography, the latter evokes Elisa’s travels to Germany:
On this journey, she was accompanied by Sophie Becker, daughter of a parson in Neuautz in Courland, who in educational matters was on a par with the noble Elisa v. d. R., and who wrote letters which were “ready for press”. Her recreation was playing the piano and singing. She found pleasure in writing poetry, spoke four languages and was as experienced as Penelope in all female matters.107 (Schwarz 1828: 131)
Beyond the skills and arts mentioned here, Sophie had also received drawing and dance lessons in Neu-Autz. “Such a high level of education for the fairer sex was at that time not common in Germany,”108 (132) Schwarz ascertained. He saw the extensive education of his late wife in striking contrast to the level he was used to among the women in his homeland:
When we arrived in W. [Wülferode, Göckingk’s country estate, where the Courland ladies were guests; ed.] I felt I had entered another world, for I had never come across women of such intellectual sweetness. One felt lifted by their conversation, and the hours passed as though they were minutes […].109(132)
When Schwarz speaks of the particular “intellectual sweetness” of his new acquaintances, this expression touches on another aspect, which had obviously taken on a great importance in Sophie’s education and which cannot be explained by her parsonage background. The young ladies from Courland, both the aristocratic Elisa and the bourgeois Sophie had not only enjoyed a multifaceted education and were well-versed in literature, art, music and dancing, in Schwarz’s eyes they set themselves apart from the – also educated – women and girls of Halberstadt by their “sophistication of manners”:
When a motion to kiss the hand of a lady was made, normally only a […] leather glove was offered; the Courland ladies, however, if a gesture was made to take their hand, removed their glove and, if drawn by the daintiness of the hand, allowed their palm to be kissed without any affectation.110 (Schwarz 1828: 132 – 133)
Sophie may well have learned the confident elegance and social graces from the von Medem family at the neighboring country estate Gut Alt-Autz, rather than in her parents’ house. As she herself expressed, she considered “grace” an integral part of an all-around female education, as was made quite clear in her not quite so flattering observations of the ladies of Danzig:
I found them all to be more enriched in their knowledge of the fine arts, but they were lacking in gentle, female grace in movement and speech, which you [her brother Bernhard; ed.] love so much and which also in our little country is admittedly not in abundance. (eds. Karo and Geyer: 13)111
In his contribution to “Denkmal”, Göckingk emphasizes that the “intellectual sweetness”, that struck Sophie’s husband so positively, is really the result of parental or family decisions – in this case the decision to free the talented Sophie with her wide interests from certain “female” tasks:
In her parents’ home she was never allowed to busy herself with housekeeping tasks, her sisters would never have suffered it, but for their love of Sophie, they took on all tasks, so that Sophie could pursue her inclination for reading, sketching and music quite undisturbed.112 (Göckingk 1790: 73)
The “four living languages” Sophie could speak were German, English, French and one supposes − thanks to her music lessons – Italian. As far as German is concerned, Sophie’s mother tongue, it can be deduced from her writings and Göckingk’s testimony that she was skilled in switching from her Courland vernacular to a highly standardized literary language. Göckingk recognized her enormous aplomb in the use of written German:
She expressed herself with great ease, however, conversation in company was never quite free of its own manner, how her fellow countrymen formed their syntax, and the occasional Courland provincial word came to light. Her written essays showed almost no trace of this! (74)113
Sophie mastered the art of code switching – a skill not to be ignored for any woman seeking recognition in the linguistically standardized society of the Enlightenment.
Even before Sophie set out on her journey to Germany and came into contact with some of the leading representatives of the Enlightenment, she already had a considerable knowledge of German literature. It may be presumed that she knew Gellert’s Geistliche Oden und Lieder since her friend Elisa had used Gellert as a model, composing her own ballads which were published in 1780 by Johann Adam Hiller, who on his part was also an admirer of Gellert (in Viehöver 2013). It can also be assumed that she knew Gellert’s popular fables.114 Moreover, she often mentions Lessing who had played a special part in Elisa’s intellectual biography.115 In addition, for her elder brother Bernhard Becker, to whom many of the letters from her travel journal were addressed and who was her role model and dialogue partner, and who also had an impact on Sophie’s education, Lessing was the outstanding German poet. When Sophie noticed that the Stolberg brothers were not very appreciative of music, she comments to her brother: “Lessing was also insensitive towards music. So, please, in future do not sneer at certain people since this was also the case of your idol”.116 (RT: 31) Sophie had obviously seen stage productions by Lessing in Courland and had an exact idea of how his plays should be staged. In Schwedt, at the beginning of her journey, she attended a production of Emilia Galotti and noted: “The actors may not have been the most perfect, but the play itself was by Lessing, and my soul was preoccupied with the spirit of the incomparable author”.117 (20)
Most likely, Sophie knew Goethe’s Werther. As early as 1775, her friend Elisa read the novel together with Gottlob David Hartmann, who was wretchedly in love with her, and who very strongly identified with the figure of Werther (Goodman 1990: 124 – 125). In her journal, Sophie writes about life in the countryside and the reader has the impression that reading Werther informs Sophie’s view of people and how they deal with one another. For instance, in the following passage she comments on a country scene in a lyrically enthusiastic Werther tone:
How it did my heart good when by a small house, in the shade of a mighty tree, we saw a group of country people enjoying their meal! Oh! you pastoral scenes, how sweet you have always been to my heart, but now, that I so often compare you to the big wide world, it is worth twice as much. We descended, accepted some bread and cheese from the mother of the house, who had 11 children, and joined the people. In the face of such open innocence and joy, I felt so exhilarated that I finally had to drag myself away to join my carriage.118 (RT: 25)
Sophie’s familiarity with the literary production of the Göttingen Circle before she embarked on her journey is evident in her experienced judgement of a poem by Friedrich Leopold zu Stolberg: “As always, a lot of painting in his verses, but towards the end also a self-expression of the heart”.119 (27)
The travel journal indicates that Sophie was not only familiar with German literature but also with the popular English novels of that time and some works of French literature (120).120 At the beginning of her journal, she mentions a conversation with a young Englishman in which she benefitted from her familiarity with popular works in English literature: “Milton, Young, Yorick, Fielding were his favorites, so that in contemplating these great men, we two became somewhat closer”.121 (29) However, Sophie was not as familiar with French literature and Göckingk notes that she had a rather distant relationship with it, since she associated the French language with court and a certain affectedness (1790: 78).122 Even so, La Bruyère’s Characters still had a special significance for her. She writes in her journal that if you are exhausted in company, it is “very good to have La Bruyère to hand. One verse of this great man contains […] the result of so many foregone observations that you immediately have the thread again, where you can pick up on a new conversation”.123 (RT: 95) This practical assistance was not the only reason why Sophie had chosen La Bruyère as her constant companion. At the time La Bruyère, much like Sophie, was a bourgeois observer of aristocratic society: he was not a fully-fledged member of this society but rather a marginal figure and therefore an ideal projection surface for Sophie.
As part of her upbringing in a protestant parsonage, Sophie received an education in theology. This went far beyond what was generally expected of protestant bourgeois daughters of that era. As Renker explains, the study in the parsonage was both the father’s work place and a place of education for his children, including his daughters (Renker 2010: 151).124 Week for week, the parson prepared his sermon for the Sunday church service and the children not only heard the result but experienced how it came to be. Sophie does not refer to this explicitly, but her marked interest in sermons – both Protestant and Catholic – shows that she felt competent to assess the intellectual level of a sermon. Note, for example, her strident criticism of the sermon by a catholic priest in Karlsbad:
The sermon was divided into two main parts and dealt first with the sacredness of the name Maria in itself and in its effect, and secondly with the awefullness it meant for all enemies of Christianity. The sacredness he substantiated with the testimonies of churchmen that the name Maria did not appear more than eight times in the Bible and whensoever always in contrast to one of the seven deadly sins, which are illustrated by the seven evil spirits in Magdalena. […] This nonsense continued for an hour and was presented with such vehemence that the church and pulpit trembled. During this it was impossible that any one of the listeners was able to even think about anything, and much less learn anything for his life.125 (RT: 39)
Sophie's confident evaluation of preachers suggests that in her youth, she was included in theological discussions and in the preparation of her father’s sermons; however, there is no evidence for that. In an article for the Halberstädter Gemeinnützige Blätter, dedicated to the memory of Sophie, only general information is given concerning her father’s influence on her upbringing and education: “Her dear father, a highly learned and righteous man, took exquisitly care to the education of his children.” (Fischer 1789: 365) Father Becker died before Sophie’s wedding, and thus could not exert any influence on her during the Halberstadt years, when Sophie became known as a woman writer among the circle of her friends. Sophie’s tendency to pass judgement may have been encouraged by the high regard for the art of sermon in Kurland and many a preacher – e. g. Christoph Friedrich Neander – was highly educated. Sophie’s husband, reporting in his memoir the impressions the parsonages in his wife’s native country left on him, concludes: “After all, Kurland is the paradise of preachers.”126 (Schwarz 1828: 197)
Sophie had no knowledge of Latin. According to Ursula A. J. Becher, Latin was as a rule not an integral part of the educational program for bourgeois daughters in the eighteenth century.127 An episode in the travel journal confirms Sophie’s lack of knowledge of the Latin language: When she had to write a letter to a prelate on behalf of a countess who was unable to speak or write German, she had to copy the Latin address on the envelope: “The Countess laughed when I showed her the Latin address and assured her that I would not understand a word.”128 (RT: 53)
A young girl from a parsonage should have a well-rounded education but, at the same time, should be wary of too much “erudition.”129 A difficult balancing act, which in the case of Sophie Becker, obviously gave rise to moral scruples, which manifested as social inhibitions. Göckingk describes the difficulties her above-average education caused her: she could very easily hold her own in conversations with “strangers with intellect;”130 (1790: 72) however, she preferred not to get involved, so as not to be thought of as immodest and arrogant in the company of less educated ladies. This self-selected reserve, however, made her appear proud, so that she must have felt completely misjudged. Sophie did not fear the disapproval of erudite men but the malicious gossip of other women. Consequently, she kept a certain distance, particularly to women: “She very much feared being taken as an erudite”, writes Göckingk, and emphasizes that she was by no means a scholar. She knew too much, “not to know what the word erudite entails.” (72) Therefore, as Göckingk notes, she was most at ease in conversations about literature or other aesthetic and intellectual topics “with men she knew well: Gleim, Bürger, Bode etc.”131 (72)
Unlike the aristocratic Lady von der Recke, whose education was, as her husband put it, “on par”, the parson’s daughter Sophie unrelentingly considered herself inadequate intellectual company, yet the imperative “Thou shalt not be immodest” applied to her more categorically than to aristocratic women with a similar level of education. She made her above-average level of education known to “erudite” male dialogue partners, but kept it hidden from less educated women so as not to appear immodest. To be immodest was Sophie’s greatest fear.132 Her fear of embarassment, as Göckingk reports, went so far that she was often the one to steer conversations with women to the topics of household and female activities (72).
One may presume that in 1784, when Sophie set out on her journey, she did so – by the standards of that time − with a great deal of self-confidence drawn from her good education. Her concept of education was holistic insofar as it comprised knowledge and skills as well as good manners and social graces. This combination of hard and soft skills gained her attention and respect as the companion of the noble Lady von der Recke.
The travel journal’s publication history is complex. When Johann Ludwig Schwarz first published Briefe einer Curländerinn in 1791, this was one of the first book-length travel reports by a woman, preceded only by Sophie von La Roche’s travel report from 1787, a “pioneer work for women moving into this genre.”133 (Scheitler 1999: 42) However, Sophie Schwarz’s letters are based on her travel journal, which was written in 1784 – 1786 and never meant for publication. The book Penelope from 1843, in which Julie von Großmann wanted to pay tribute to the memory of Sophie Schwarz, included excerpts from the Briefe einer Curländerinn (Großmann 1843), but under the misleading title “Fragments from Sophie’s Travel Journal.” The travel journal itself was first published in the 1880s, one hundred years after the journey. The publishers believed that this journal differs from the letters through its “freshness and directness” since it “had [been written] without taking the possible readers into consideration” and therefore “unreservedly” captures “the heart of the writer” (RT: 7).134 Until then, the (somewhat sparse) research had focused on individual aspects of the travel journal (Conrad 1998), and referred to its documentary value.135 There was no effort made to approach the travel journal as a literary work, or to trace the literary development from the journal to the letters.
The apodictic statement “No pleasure is enduring” in Sophie’s farewell poem An den Baron Thuri aus Siebenbürgen renounces worldly pleasure. In contrast, in her travel journal, “pleasure” is a key term in which Sophie’s dedication to this world is manifest. The consciously cultivated indulgence in sensual pleasure initially unfolds on a culinary level, enjoying small delicacies, such as red currants (RT: 161) and cherries: “The smell of a fresh roast caused us to pause and have a small formal meal here. And once finished, and we had imbibed some good Rhine wine, instead of Franconian, we took a portion of cherries with us on the way and continued our journey”.136 (164) At another occasion, the indulgence in cherries is complemented by enjoyment of the beautiful country landscape: “In one of the pavilions we drank coffee and ate lots of cherries. I adored the abundance of roses in the garden”.137 (160) Such passages lend the travel journal a certain naturalness and verve which is lost in the revision. Sophie, for whom sense perception plays a central role, derives pleasure from the most varied sensuous experiences. Alongside gastronomical pleasures and landscape, music also offers easy access to “soul feelings”.138 (152) For instance, she very much enjoys listening to the piano works of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (201).
Alongside the sensual enjoyments of life, contemplation and rationality are of fundamental importance for Sophie. Sophie was “eager to increase her knowledge” (Göckingk 1790: 79)139 through reading and was always delighted with an “enrichment of [her] ideas” (11)140 through travel. The exchange with renowned persons such as Nicolai, Moses Mendelssohn, Klopstock, Gleim, Hiller, Göckingk, Bode, and Reimarus afforded her an opportunity to learn new things and confront familiar ideas with new perspectives. The travel journal therefore often illustrates the conflict between warm, rapturous feeling and “cold” reasoning, a conflict that hardens to an “inexplicable discrepancy”.141 (68) Journeying and the travel journal are for Sophie the time and place to reflect upon her identity and her attitude to life. This journey opens up her world and at the same time enables her to find her inner self.
Sophie tries to compensate the “inexplicable discrepancy” in her account with an attitude to life that feeds on her educational background and yet aims at a reconciliation of sensitivity and reason. In her journal, Sophie reflects again and again on the substantial role that reasoning plays in her life. “Yet, why this reasoning tenor? You, sensitive soul, only love things that have to do with the sweet feelings of the heart, thereunder also jest and caprice”.142 (10) Thoughts on the influence of reasoning and feelings bring her to the unfathomable depths of her own personality:
True humanity is seldom come by. Yet, away with reasoning! Am I sure that my eye does not only wish to see my own image, and whether the chagrin at finding it unnoticed by others, will not have an influence on my annotations on others? Oh, my heart, you have too many unknown depths for me!143 (79)
For Sophie, cold “reasoning” must be combined with sensuous experiences that can be subsumed in the term “pleasure.” Thus, in a moment of elation, she proclaims: “Yet enjoying is better than reasoning” (70), since only “the pleasure of the heart determines the value of life” (70). The journal is filled with examples of this philosophy of life. They draw a thread through her journal and illustrate Sophie's devotion to this world: “Good heavens, what good is all this wisdom if, at the same time, I forget the art of life and pleasure?” (83). Or: “I now have so much to savour and enjoy that I would like to divide myself, so as not to miss anything and to prolong the present minute as long as possible. (153, 41). She can readily agree with the cantor’s statement: “‘[…] we also have to live here on earth’”.144 (135)
Sophie’s positive attitude to life is in no way hedonistic, since pleasure cannot exist without pain − “No earthly pleasure without bitterness.” (235) − and should always be accompanied by reason: Sophie wants to experience “a lust for life […]” (140) and considers life “the most important property” (130), but she also speaks of a “morally sensuous sentiment” (55) and of “joyful yet reasonable pleasures in my life” (60).145 Here, reason is a necessary corrective of sensitivity.
Sophie merges ratio and sensitivity in her writing. At social get-togethers, she combines a “delicious meal”146 (106) with the pleasure of telling stories:
What can I tell about the lunch, no more than there were many at the table, and from 2 – 5 o’clock we were occupied with filling our plates with something new to eat and giving our stomach enough work. Sitting in such pleasant company was easy. What I was interested in was everything to do with the King. Since Ramler was seated next to me and noticed my interest in porcelain, admiring the flowers, he told me how the King was able to make a graceful exit from his factory […]. Here I add a few more anecdotes on the King, which we have from Nicolai and which are quite sure.147 (226)
In the “pleasure” of anecdotes, the antagonistic powers that shape Sophie’s attitude to life and her philosophy come together in harmony. Anecdotes also define the form and shape of the travel journal.
Sophie Schwarz’s travel journal displays the typical characteristics of the genre, a “combination of diary and letters.”148 (Scheitler 1999: 133) “More affinity to the countryside than to the town or city,”149 (31) the key role of feelings, the “exact observation of everyday life,” and the “pleasure in acquaintances”150 (45) show that the text embraces “the ideal of female naturalness.”151 (Scheitler 1999: 31) The journal “hardly contains general descriptions of landscapes, towns or cultural events,” 152 (Conrad 1998: 210) but concentrates on the subjective and reflective. Sophie is well aware that her travel journal differs from the male form of travelogue, and she reflects on this explicitly: “Of course a travel journal includes new things that catch one’s eye, but for a diary on our feelings and intellectual activities, this is not necessary; this can often exceed the efforts in seemingly minor incidents” (RT: 99).153 Sophie gives her journal a particular form by introducing another genre, the anecdote.
The anecdote as a “short pointed story said to have been attributed to a real person”154 (Schlaffer 2007: 87) or as a recitation of a “true, maybe still unknown, strange incident,”155 (Hilzinger 1997: 17) reached its heydey during the Enlightenment. Popular in France, it caught on in Germany in the first half of the eighteenth century, before a certain “distancing to France” motivated an “acculturation of the genre anecdote.”156 (42) Johann Adam Hiller, whom Elisa and Sophie were to meet on their journey through Germany in Leipzig and Halle (RT: 61 ff), had translated collections of anecdotes from the French and had given the German anecdote its own characteristic form. Under his influence, the anecdote highlighted “individual short incidents” that “adequately and authentically represent the character of a person and his biography.”157 (Hilzinger 1997: 46) The anecdote, which during the Enlightenment was a popular feature in historiography, publicism, and literature, took on various functions ranging from entertainment and didactic moralizing to the historical-biographical, and even emancipatory.158
Being so “close to oral tradition and its propagation in everyday communication,”159 (Weber 1993: 21) the anecdotes that Sophie tells in her journal, create a certain “directness,” associated with the form of the journal: anecdotes stand for a genuine “dynamism, action and vitality,”160 for liveliness (Grothe 1971: 7). Many of the anecdotes that she relates in her journal are neither moral nor didactic – they contain piquant details, have a punch line, and are therefore primarily entertaining. Sophie, who was extremely interested in theological discussions, also enjoyed “ridiculous anecdotes about stupid preachers and superstitious fools”161 (RT: 47):
Not far from here in a village called Joachimsthal there is a parson of the old kind, who started his sermon on the Epiphany with the question: ‘Who are the three men and where do they come from?’ He repeats this three times. And just then three strangers enter the church. After the third repetition, the good people believe he’s referring to them, and one of them raises his voise and answers: ‘We’re from Averdun and have tallow for sale’.162 (47)
She also does not avoid love relationships and intrigues. She gives a very lively account of a love triangle affair:
Just yesterday, the three persons concerned were here in the hall. A certain Mr. v. P. has a pretty, young woman with whom the young officer, v. R. has fallen in love. The young woman is not overly virtuous, but the man is extremely jealous. R. takes on the strategy of showing himself indifferent to the woman for some time, and treating the man as his best friend. When the man was not so believing in his friendship, as he would have wished, he pretended to be very ill, so that he makes a last will and testament naming him – oh, such fondness for P.! – as the sole heir to his considerable fortune. P. is moved by this and convinced of his friendship. The illness is so bad in the next few days that the doctors are about to give up; finally, however, it takes a good turn and R. recovers, and because he is young and healthy the good P. does not come to his inheritance. He now lets R. come and go in his house as a good friend, and even trusts him with the custody of his wife. R. can enjoy everything he desired and at the same time enjoy a good friendship.163 (174)
The anecdotes refer partly to anonymous or anonymized persons and partly to well-known persons such as Gottfried August Bürger, Lessing, Moses Mendelssohn, Anna Louisa Karsch or Friedrich II.: “I am never so discontent with my memory,” says Sophie, “than when it does not provide me with the anecdotes of great men that I love to hear”.164 (182) Often, these anecdotes center on the weaknesses or the all too human facets of great men or “simple people.”
Anecdotal narration often serves a certain interest. Sophie herself claims that anecdotes make “a great contribution to the history of mankind”.165 (188) This minor literary form which focuses on individuals (Grothe 1971: 19), does not only redeem the claim of “prodesse et delectare,” (Hilzinger 1997: 150) but also satisfies the general anthropological interest of the Enlightenment.166 In various anecdotes, peculiar human foibles extend our knowledge of mankind.167 It is no coincidence that Sophie, the parson’s daughter, to whose education great importance was attached, visited the Philanthropin in Dessau, an educational institution founded by Johann Bernhard Basedow. The Philanthropin was “dedicated to the welfare and advancement of man,”168 (Overhoff 2000: 136) promoted religious tolerance and found an advocate in Immanuel Kant. In spite of her knowledge of the “fragility of human things” (RT: 79), Sophie’s “belief in humanity [becomes] stronger every day”.169 (87) Her trust in mankind confirms her optimism in the future and her focus on this world.
However, this is not to say that Sophie is completely satisfied with the social situation in Courland and Germany – on the contrary: her interest in people is coupled with harsh social criticism and a desire to bring about change in society. This becomes clear as Sophie not only describes her visits to spas and educational establishments, but also to a “hospital” (163) and a “mad house” (13)170 where Sophie realised that “a mad house makes more mad people in the country” (13). In Courland, on the other hand, there was no such house and it was “rare to find such people who belong there” (13).171 These reflections show that Sophie’s moral judgements are not just limited to her private life but extend into the public sphere. When she adds, “[…] we had similar thoughts as we saw the high court, the first thing one sees of Königsberg” (13). Sophie exhibits a keen interest in legal problems, and asks how a more just society could be constituted. Alongside “conversational anecdotes” that serve as “material for cultivated social intercourse”172 (Schäfer 1985: 192) and are mostly “entertaining” (185) and “amusing” 173 (53), Sophie also related several anecdotes without a punch line that illustrate social grievances. A long anecdote, which describes the inhumanity of the Earl of Zweibrücken toward his hunter, conveys Sophie’s acute awareness of the “atrocities” (115) committed by the aristocracy. Sophie, who openly declares that she is in favor of the abolishment of serfdom, insisted on including this anecdote in her journal even though Göckingk had second “thoughts about printing this in the journal”.174 (114) She denounces injustice and abuse of power, evident also in an anecdote in which an officer forces a young person to “cane” his own father (113):
When he [the officer; ed.] still insists with a look of malicious glee on his face, the young person jumps up and in desperation throws the cane before the feet of the tyrant. He reports it, and the young and generous man is shot. The officer, however, is only imprisoned for a few weeks, since he had beaten his lower officer because of his refusal more often than the law allows.175 (114)
The anecdote questions the existing laws and the judiciary. When she tells a story of murder (17), she wants to hear judgement passed on the criminal, “to get a sense of the Prussian justice in such cases”.176 (17) This not only bears witness to a Christianity-based need for justice, but also a strong interest in socio-political issues.
The anecdotes Sophie includes in her travel journal can be divided into two categories: some tell cheerful stories that illustrate virtues without being sententious or morally didactic; others bear witness to Sophie’s critical perception of social injustices in her environment. Thus, her desire for “reasonable pleasure” finds expression in the genre of anecdote that allows her to express her “enjoyment and learning” (20).177 Her thirst for knowledge, her perfectionism, her mistrust, her memory,178 and her appetite for “more” could perhaps explain the heterogeneous character of the anecdotes, which have different functions and different forms, sometimes brief, sometimes elaborate, and do not conform to the polished character of female travel reports.
All in all, the anecdote is a suitable form for Sophie’s inductive method of knowledge acquisition. She starts off with small details (such as cherries and red currants) and then draws general conclusions. Anecdotes illustrate the continual and productive movement between external and self reference: brief but expressive stories about individuals allow conclusions to be drawn about people but also about the author. Through the genre of anecdote with its contrast of simple form and compelling content, Sophie’s own character becomes evident. Underneath an inconspicuous outer shell179 (Göckingk 1790: 71) is a strong substance, a determined and self-confident personality, a sensitive but also astute and enthusiastic person, who, inspired by Christian ethos, wants to effect great changes by undertaking small things. Reason tells her: “[…] these are your deeds, certainly small and inperceptible for the human eye, but when it involves the feeling of love that Christ teaches, Sophie, then you have done what is right and you must not be envious of Elisa’s advantage that she was able to give 10 Rth”180 (119 – 120).
While the travel journal was not published until the end of the nineteenth century, Briefe einer Curländerinn181 appeared only two years after Sophie’s death. In the foreword addressed to Duchess Dorothea of Courland, Schwarz explains the key concern of his deceased wife: “The author, whose favorite idea was to serve her gender by teaching in an educational institute, wanted this idea [her publication] as a ‘text book’ for educating the hearts of young women.”182 (BC) In line with this intention, Sophie Schwarz smoothed over the narrative heterogeneity of the travel journal and reduced the number of anecdotes. The author then directed her thoughts to a fictional pen friend called Agnes, to whom, in her very first letter, she explains in detail how she sees the role and task of women in society. From these fundamental considerations, it becomes clear that the experience gained on her journey to Germany led to ostensibly modern views of gender relations: “In my opinion, among the two genders, education and morals have played a larger difference than nature itself”.183 (BC: I, 4) However, this sociological perspective does not call for an appropriation of male privileges. Sophie Schwarz does not believe in the feasibility of abrupt changes; as a matter of fact, she sees the developmental potential for women in creating small arenas of freedom within the existing gender order. Instead of complaining about the ‘burdens’ posed on women by the “present bourgeois constitution,” the reasonable woman should “be able to bear this as best she can,” which ultimately means, “practicing patience”.184 (I, 5) Sophie pleads openly for complying with what – at least for the time being – cannot be changed. Since women’s activities are primarily carried out seated, women should familiarize themselves at an early age (I, 6) by working with a needle and distaff. The “truly diligent fulfillment of our female role”185 must have priority over all other ambitions.
Nevertheless, in spite of such acquiescence, the idea of a different gender order and a different society is very much alive in Sophie’s thoughts. She warns fellow women not to give up all hope; in truth “we [women], as reasonable human beings, have to also lift our gaze beyond the for us predetermined place in this world”186 (I, 6). Wherever a woman can advance the “education of the spirit,” she must seize this possibility “of climbing the moral ladder”187 (I, 6). As far as the emancipation of the female gender is concerned, to use the words of Goethe, Sophie is not a volcanist, but a neptunist. She advises her readers against taking radical women as role models “which through a special fate or intellectual gifts are torn out of the customary determination” of the female sex: “What is a virtue for some, can be a mistake for you!” (I, 7)188 We do not know why a young woman, who is interested in male-connoted topics, such as the organisation of the state, the principles of jurisdiction, literature, music and art conceived of such a pragmatic concept of female education. The influence of the male-dominated Halberstadt circle around Gleim, which was not progressive in its thinking about the education of women, may well have played a role. Sophie raised her voice only once when she vehemently demanded that in the future the education of women not be (Becker-Cantarino 1989: 149 – 161) − left to the men: “Only a clever woman will be able to educate her fellow women. […] Perhaps they [the men; ed.] can understand that in intellectual education, only a woman can unlock the heart of a young girl and how important the process of the same is for all of mankind!”189 (BC II, 185 ff)
However, Sophie’s plans to act as an educator for young girls did not come to fruition in the course of her short life. In the two and a half years that she lived in Halberstadt, she took the first steps toward an occupation as educator and directing her own educational institution. A dedication to her in the Gemeinnützige Blätter suggests that she had already published an “announcement” in this journal on the 22nd of September 1787, half a year after her marriage, and made known her intentions “to help her young female compatriots by imparting to them knowledge that could be useful for their gender.” The author comments:
Her knowledge, her character, and especially her manner of dealing with young people would have made her an excellent teacher and warden; and such an institution, once started by her, would have been proven lasting (Fischer 1789: 367).190
Becher, Ursula A. J. 1988. “Weibliches Selbstverständnis in Selbstzeugnissen des 18. Jahrhunderts.” Weiblichkeit in geschichtlicher Perspektive. Fallstudien und Reflexionen zu Grundproblemen der historischen Frauenforschung. Eds. Ursula A. J. Becher, and Jörn Rüsen. Frankfurt/M.: Suhrkamp, 217 – 233.
Becker-Cantarino, Barbara. 1989. Der lange Weg zur Mündigkeit. Frauen und Literatur in Deutschland von 1500 bis 1800. München: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag.
Briefe einer Curländerinn. Auf einer Reise durch Deutschland. Zwei Theile. 1791. Berlin: bei Friedrich Vieweg, dem älteren.
Conrad, Anne. 1998. “‘Wir verplauderten die Zeit recht angenehm, sprachen von Geistersehen, Ahnungen und dergleichen’. Religion als Thema aufklärerischer Geselligkeit.” Ordnung, Politik und Geselligkeit der Geschlechter im 18. Jahrhundert. Eds. Ulrike Weckel, and Claudia Opitz, Brigitte Tolkemitt, Olivia Hochstrasser. Göttingen: Wallstein, 203 – 226.
[Fischer, Gottlob Nathanael.] 1789. “Zum Andenken von Sophie Schwarz, geb. Becker.” Gemeinnützige Blätter. Eine Wochenschrift zum Besten der Armen von der Litterarischen Gesellschaft zu Halberstadt. Vol. 2. No. 50, 363 – 368.
Geistliche Lieder einer vornehmen Churländischen Dame, mit Melodien von Johann Adam Hiller. 1780. Leipzig: bey Johann Friedrich Junius.
Gestrich, Andreas. 1984. “Erziehung im Pfarrhaus. Die sozialgeschichtlichen Grundlagen.” Das evangelische Pfarrhaus. Eine Kultur- und Sozialgeschichte. Ed. Martin Greiffenhagen. Stuttgart: Kreuz-Verlag, 63 – 82.
Göckingk, [Leopold Friedrich Günther von]. 1790. “Sophiens Charakter.” Deutsche Monatsschrift. Vol. 1 (January – April). Berlin: bei Friedrich Vieweg, dem älteren, 71 – 79.
Goodman, Katherine. 1990. “Elisa von der Recke’s Sentimental Autobiography.” Interpreting Women’s Lives: Feminist Theory and Personal Narratives. Ed. Personal Narratives Group. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 118 – 128.
von Großmann, Julie. 1843. “Sophie Becker und ihr Verhältniß zu Elisa v. d. Recke, der Herzogin von Kurland, Tiedge, Gleim, Klamer-Schmidt, Bürger, Nicolai, Moses Mendelssohn und mehreren andern ihrer Zeitgenossen.” Penelope. Taschenbuch für das Jahr 1843. Vol. 32 or N.F. 3. Ed. Theodor Hell. Leipzig: Verlag der J. C. Hinrichsschen Buchhandlung, 143 – 222.
Grothe, Heinz. Anekdote. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1971.
Hilzinger, Sonja. 1997. Anekdotisches Erzählen im Zeitalter der Aufklärung. Zum Struktur- und Funktionswandel der Gattung Anekdote in Historiographie, Publizistik und Literatur des 18. Jahrhunderts. Stuttgart: M & P, Verlag für Wissenschaft und Forschung.
– Elisa von der Recke. Aufklärerische Kontexte und lebensweltliche Perspektiven. Ed. Valérie Leyh, Adelheid Müller and Vera Viehöver. Heidelberg: Winter 2018.
– Viehöver, Vera; Leyh, Valérie. 2015. “Ungleiche Schwestern. Die Beziehung zwischen Elisa von der Recke und Dorothea von Kurland vor dem Hintergrund des literarischen Freundschaftskultes im 18. Jahrhundert”. Triangulum 2016, 275 – 286.
– Leyh, Valérie. 2016. “Der Standesunterschied als Prüfstein. Zur Frauenfreundschaft zwischen Elisa von der Recke und Sophie Becker”. Recherches Germaniques 45 (2015), 5 – 23.
Müller, Adelheid. 2004. “‘Die Frau Kammerherrin von Recke wird Berlin passieren und wünscht Sie zu kennen’ oder: Preußen sind Menschen.” Europäische Ansichten. Brandenburg-Preußen um 1800 in der Wahrnehmung europäischer Reisender und Zuwanderer. Ed. Iwan-Michelangelo D’Aprile. Berlin: Berliner Wissenschafts-Verlag [= Aufklärung und Europa 17], 113 – 140.
Overhoff, Jürgen. 2000. “Immanuel Kant, die philanthropische Pädagogik und die Erziehung zur religiösen Toleranz.” Immanuel Kant und die Berliner Aufklärung. Ed. Dina Emundts, Wiesbaden: Reichert, 133 – 147.
Renker, Cindy. 2010. “Die Bildung von Pfarrerstöchtern im 18. Jahrhundert.” Internationales Archiv für Sozialgeschichte der deutschen Literatur 35.1, 143 – 176.
Schäfer, Walter E. 1985. “Anekdotische Erzählformen und der Begriff Anekdote im Zeitalter der Aufklärung.” Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie 104 , 185 – 204.
Scheitler, Irmgard. 1999. Gattung und Geschlecht. Reisebeschreibungen deutscher Frauen 1780 – 1850. Tübingen: Niemeyer.
Schlaffer, Heinz. 2007. “Anekdote.” Reallexikon der deutschen Literaturwissenschaft I, A-G. Eds. Klaus Weimar, and Harald Fricke, Klaus Grubmüller, Jan-Dirk Müller. Berlin: de Gruyter, 87 – 89.
Schwarz, Johann Ludwig. 1790. Elisens und Sophiens Gedichte. Ed. Johann Ludwig Schwarz. Berlin: Friedrich Vieweg.
Schwarz, Johann Ludwig. 1828. Denkwürdigkeiten aus dem Leben eines Geschäftsmannes, Dichters und Humoristen. Erste Abtheilung. Leipzig: Christian Ernst Kollmann.
“Sophiens Denkmal.” Deutsche Monatsschrift. Vol. 1 (January-April). Berlin: Friedrich Vieweg, 1790. 67 – 96.
Sträter, Karin. 1998. “‘Es ist doch ein herrlich Ding um Ehrlichkeit und Freundschaft….’ Sophie Becker und Elise Reimarus.” Querelles. Jahrbuch für Frauenforschung 1998. Vol. 3: Freundschaft im Gespräch. Eds. S. Eickenrodt, and C. Rapisarda (in collaboration with U. Pott). 258 – 265.
Viehöver, Vera. 2013. “Ein ‘musikalischer Gellert’: Johann Adam Hiller.” Praeceptor Germaniae. Christian Fürchtegott Gellerts 18. Jahrhundert. Eds. Werner Jung, and Sibylle Schönborn. Bielefeld: Aisthesis, 131 – 150.
Vor hundert Jahren. Elise von der Reckes Reisen durch Deutschland 1784 – 86, nach dem Tagebuche ihrer Begleiterin Sophie Becker. Eds. G. Karo, and M. Geyer. Stuttgart: Verlag von W. Spemann, n.d.
Weber, Volker. 1993. Anekdote. Die andere Geschichte. Erscheinungsformen der Anekdote in der deutschen Literatur, Geschichtsschreibung und Philosophie. Tübingen: Stauffenburg [= Stauffenburg Colloquium 26].
3.144.26.221