Heidi, a Swiss book originally published in German in 1881, was one of those books I grew up with: my mother had a simplified, abridged version of it Heidi, a Swiss book originally published in German in 1881, was one of those books I grew up with: my mother had a simplified, abridged version of it that I read many times and loved as a child. When I realized the GR group "Catching up on the Classics" was doing it as a group read, I jumped in, excited for the chance to revisit Heidi and her simple, joyous life in the Swiss alps with her grandfather.
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Heidi, a 5 year old orphan, has been raised by her mother's sister Dete, who resents the imposition. When Dete gets a good job offer, she marches Heidi up to the Swiss village where she was raised, the (fictional) village of Dörfli ("little village") and then even further up the mountain, to dump little Heidi on her unsuspecting grandfather, an embittered recluse. Despite being taken aback, the grandfather quickly takes to Heidi, admiring her intelligence and enthusiasm. She thrives in the lovely Swiss alps and country life, immediately shedding her more citified clothing and ways, and helping the local goatherd Peter.
[image] The Falknis mountain, with its two "towers," near where Heidi and Peter tend the goats
Everyone around Heidi grows to love her: her grandfather, Peter, Peter's grandmother. The only problem is that "Alm-Uncle," her grandfather, has such a deep distrust of people and town life that he refuses to even send her to the village school. Heidi is growing up happy and uncivilized when her aunt Dete suddenly reappears after three years, determined to take Heidi to Frankfurt to be the companion of Clara, a rich but sickly and invalid girl. Our bouncy, enthusiastic girl starts to feel desperately unhappy, cooped up in the big city. But Heidi has lessons to learn, and God has a plan.
I loved the detailed descriptions of the lovely Alps and life there in olden times. I suppose Heidi is a bit of a Mary Sue character, but her exuberant nature, jumping around all the time like a young goat, was charming. And - continuing the animal metaphors - I really felt for her when she felt like a trapped bird in Frankfurt, though the wasting away thing was a bit over the top.
The Alm-Uncle's character, bitter toward mankind generally but loving toward his bright granddaughter, seemed entirely believable to me, and honestly I got a bit teary as he began, like the prodigal son in Christ's parable, to find his way back to harmony with God and with his fellow men. Clara's devout grandmamma is a paragon of saintliness but has a little humor to leaven her spiritual lessons to Heidi; Peter's ailing, blind grandmother is equally devout but would fit in well with other Victorian-era sickly but wise characters.
The preachiness got a little too heavy-handed toward the end, although I did appreciate the message of continuing to trust God even when your prayers aren't answered immediately, and at the same time needing to take action to improve your own circumstances, as much as you can. I also can't help but be charmed with the notion that country living, with lots of fresh goat milk and toasted goat cheese on bread, brisk mountain air and the beauty of nature, heals pretty much everything.
[image] Mmmmm! ... okay, actually I don't like goat cheese, toasted or otherwise, but I have to say Heidi tempts me to give it another shot.
All in all I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Heidi and her friends again, after many years apart. I recommend Heidi to readers who like old-fashioned children's classics, like Anne of Green Gables, and don't mind a healthy dose of religious content in their reading.
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A note on English translations: Since this book is over 100 years old, it's out of copyright and there are several free English versions available. I read parts of Heidi in German and did some comparisons between the three English versions I found on Project Gutenberg. None of them completely satisfied me, but I thought this one was the best, closest to the original German text without being unbearably awkward: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1448. I'm sure there are better translations out there, but I was working with what I could find free online. Whatever version you pick up, make sure you get both halves of the story, which was originally published in two parts (the second half has Clara visiting Switzerland)....more
I've had a lifelong, highly irrational love for Struwwelpeter, a gruesome set of German cautionary children's tales from 1845, set to rhyme, so when kI've had a lifelong, highly irrational love for Struwwelpeter, a gruesome set of German cautionary children's tales from 1845, set to rhyme, so when karen's review alerted me to the fact that Heinrich Hoffman wrote more of this bloodthirsty didactic poetry,* I was all over it, like Paulinchen is with matches.
*ETA: Or perhaps not ... it may have been someone ripping Hoffmann off. See comments 5 and 6 in the thread. (THANKS, Matt!)
Slovenly Betsy is on Project Gutenberg only in English, not German -- I couldn't find a German version of this book even mentioned anywhere online, so I don't know if this book was actually written by Hoffman in English, or if someone translated it, or what the deal is (maybe one of my German-speaking friends can enlighten me?). These stories include one story from Struwwelpeter: Paulinchen, the girl who loves loved to play with matches -- against the advice of her cats, I might add! -- but the rest of the stories were new to me.
Anyway, once again, children are misbehaving in various and sundry ways, suffering terrible consequences, and learning their lessons, assuming the consequences haven't been fatal (never a safe assumption with Hoffman). These morality tales deal with, for example:
☠ Poor personal hygiene ("Slovenly Betsy"): Everyone laughs at Betsy and, ashamed, she mends her ways. Boo! Where's the blood?
☠ Pride ("Phoebe Ann, The Proud Girl"): Phoebe Ann's snootiness causes her to lift her nose at everyone, stretching her neck until, well, this: [image]
Which naturally leads to this: [image]
Now we're talking!
☠ Jealousy ("Envious Minnie"), which I found curious because, for reasons known only to Hoffman, Minnie's unrestrained envy turns her a bright shade of yellow rather than, as one might expect, green:**
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**ETA #2: Matt has illuminated me in comment #8: in German you can say someone is either green or yellow from envy. Of course, since this book was only (as far as I'm aware) published in English, I can still complain. Hah!
☠ Rough-housing ("The Story of Romping Polly"): Poor Polly, whose only sin seems to be wanting to frolic and play like the boys, rather than be restrained and ladylike. It seems kind of unfair that this poor girl breaks her leg while playing. She must have been made of porcelain, because the whole darn leg breaks off:
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See how her brother bursts in tears, When told the dreadful story; And see how carefully he bears The limb all wet and gory.
It also seems unfair that Polly's the only one in the whole book who dies for her misdeeds. I guess Hoffmann really had a thing against tomboyish girls.
There are several more stories, dealing with gluttony, being a crybaby, and more poor personal hygiene, and winding up with "Sophie Spoilall," who ruins all her toys, ripping them to pieces, even though her mother warns her that Kriss Kringle might not bring her any more toys for Christmas if she doesn't mend her ways. Of course she doesn't, and Christmas comes and there are lots of toys for Nelly and Ned, but for Sophie there's . . . um, who knows? The story abruptly ends here, and I'm not sure if the PG version of this book is incomplete or if Hoffmann thought we could all just extrapolate from there. But it was a little dissatisfying.
And even though I got some amusement out of this book, it just didn't have nearly the impact on me that Struwwelpeter has had. The stories didn't seem to have the same spice. Maybe it's the whole childhood memories thing. Maybe it's that reading gory tales in German just makes them seem so much funnier to me. Maybe lightning can only strike once (apparently this book didn't have anywhere near the success of Struwwelpeter).
Good for a few chuckles, if you like this sort of bloodthirsty thing. Free ebook available here....more
Der Struwwelpeter is one of those picture books I grew up with, and read and heard repeatedly as a child, so I have an unreasonable amount of love forDer Struwwelpeter is one of those picture books I grew up with, and read and heard repeatedly as a child, so I have an unreasonable amount of love for it, even though it's kind of awful? All credit goes to my German-speaking mom, although I'm not sure if she shared this book with my siblings and me because she thought it was a funny book or was trying to scare us straight.
This German children's picture book with moral lessons in poems was first published in 1845, when society (particularly in Germany, I suspect) was much in the mode of "spare the rod and spoil the child." No children being spoiled here! There are ten stories, pretty much all intended to show the horrible things--maiming, death, etc.--that will happen if you are a disobedient or misbehaving child. For example:
In "Die gar traurige Geschichte mit dem Feuerzeug" ("The Very Sad Story with the Match"), a girl plays with matches and is burned to death. A pile of ashes is all that remains of her. Her cats (who tried to warn her to stay away from the matches) are crying a river of tears. [image] Just like my cat would if anything ever happened to me, I'm very sure.
In "Die Geschichte vom Daumenlutscher" ("The Story of the Thumb-Sucker")--my favorite as a child!--the mother warns her son Konrad not to suck his thumbs, or the tailor (literally, the "cutter"), who apparently has nothing better to do than snoop around looking for thumb-sucking children, will come and snip them right off. But as soon his mother leaves the house, pop! Konrad's thumb goes right back into his mouth. Suddenly this huge tailor leaps into the room and cuts off his thumbs with a giant scissors! Bam!! [image] The last picture shows Konrad standing there sadly, with little stumps where his thumbs used to be. [image] Good times!
And so it goes. It's even a tiny bit liberal for its time: There's a story about a guy hunting rabbits where a hare grabs the gun while he's asleep and turns it on him. [image] HAH! Take that!
And another story where three boys who are making fun of an African's dark skin are dipped in ink by a giant, stern St. Nicholas so they can find out what it really means to be black.
This line from the Wikipedia article on this book cracks me up:
Hoffmann wrote Struwwelpeter in reaction to the lack of good children's books. Intending to buy a picture book as a Christmas present for his three-year-old son, Hoffmann instead wrote and illustrated his own book.
Okay, I thought this was hilarious as a child, but I'm not sure sharing it with a 3 year old is the way to go. But there it says, right on the title page: "Funny stories and droll pictures, for children 3-6 years old." ("Lustige Geschichten und drollige Bilder für Kinder von 3 bis 6 Jahren.") Just for the record, I do NOT recommend this for sensitive little ones. But maybe if you've got a rowdy 5 or 6 year old ....
Anyway, this poetry book is a classic, in its own weird and gruesome way. And I read it many, many times as a child, and I turned out fine! (SHUT UP!)
Here's a link to the original German version, free on Project Gutenberg, and here's another link to an English translation that's pretty good, if rather loose....more
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 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).
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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: [image]
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."
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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)...more