Elizabeth and Her German Garden

This is such a weird book to encounter in my time and place, written as it is in a vastly different one -- 1898 Germany, by a member of the aristocratic class. Parts of it are lovely (Elizabeth discovering the garden and solitude and loving her April, May and June babies), parts horrifying (Elizabeth's attitude towards "lesser" beings, her staff and the peasants who are kidnapped to work on her estate), parts deeply depressing (the expectations for women, the completely accepted set of ideas that they are also lesser and that it is necessary to beat them for their own happiness), and parts just weird (the way an unwelcome houseguest is treated).

I think, honestly, that so much of this book is pointed social commentary on the time and show more place that she lives in that I can't really figure out how to take it. Does she really think that poor people are lesser beings? Certainly that was a perfectly unremarkable attitude for her time, but the parallels with the Man of Wrath's commentary on the lesser capabilities of women are so clearly set out that it's hard to know if she's showing her own bias or deeply criticizing both perceptions. Why is she so frustrated and uncomfortable with Minora? And why is she never referred to as an English person herself, despite the fact that she was not raised in Germany, and even the semi-fictional Elizabeth in the book was clearly raised in Britain?

I loved her descriptions of the garden and her fascination with growing things. I loved her development as a gardener. I loved that she refers to her children as 'the April baby' or 'the June baby' -- there's something really sweet about that. The audio version is very well read. I just have no idea what to think about this book on the whole. It is fascinating.

Advanced Listening copy provided by Libro.fm. show less

This 1898 novelized memoir of a year in the life of a rather remarkable woman is a delight, a tonic for miserable days and bad moods. The book recounts the joy Elizabeth found in her country estate, her efforts to develop a garden on the neglected grounds, and time spent with her family and visiting friends.

It is an aristocratic life; one of Elizabeth's greatest travails is finding a gardener who is both skilled and committed to her vision. Contemporary books written from a point of privilege tend to annoy me, but I was willing to ignore Elizabeth's occasionally less-than-kind comments on the "servant class", since the book was, after all, written 125 years ago.

Elizabeth loves her garden, her privacy, her children, her friends, and her show more husband - in that order. She unabashedly describes her pleasure in having the house to herself for months at a stretch, leaving the rest of her family in Berlin while she is (in theory) overseeing renovations but in fact spends all her time enjoying the overrun gardens, fields and forests.

The writing is witty and confidential, drawing the reader in to Elizabeth's views on cooking (why do it yourself when you can hire someone to do it for you?), reading (a pleasure for her, though frowned on by the German upper class), and guests (some are tolerable, others less so, and even the best of them tiresome after a few weeks). She is defiantly independent, but does struggle to come across as pleasant and accommodating.

But it is her self-deprecating efforts to plan and implement a garden that are a real treat. The Pomeranian climate and landscape are not as receptive to gardening as are England's, but Elizabeth persists doggedly, learning from her mistakes and reveling in her successes. All with that same wit and charm.

In a rating system that allowed 1/2 stars this would probably be a 4.5, but I prefer rounding up to down, so it's a five for me. BTW, the narration on this version is excellent. show less

A lovely book - not a how-to-garden book, but rather a feel-the-garden book. Von Arnim writes about her garden, her gardeners, her husband and children, and life. One of those books that makes me want to be a gardener, though I know I'd never persevere in the face of nibbling animals and constant weeding. So instead, I'll read books about gardens and admire other people's gardens.
"The people round about are persuaded that I am ... exceedingly eccentric for the news has traveled that I spend the day out of doors with a book, and that no mortal eye has ever yet seen me sew or cook."
"The giant poppies I had planted ... in April have either died off or remained quite small. ... Those borders are going to be sown tomorrow with more poppies show more for next year; for poppies I will have whether they like it or not."
"I love tulips more than any other spring flower; they are the embodiment of alert cheerfulness and tidy grace."
"Happiness ... invigorates and warms me into piety far more effectually than any trials and griefs, and an unexpected pleasure is the surest means of bringing me to my knees." show less

A semi-fictional memoir of a young noble woman, renovating one of her husband's country houses and luxuriating in the gardens surrounding the home. The story is said to be a novel, but it's clear that the diary entries reflect the true thoughts and emotions of the author, Countess Elizabeth von Arnim, if not recording the actual events that happened to her. My feel is that this was an actual memoir written by the precocious Elizabeth, with just tidbits fictionalized to remove any personal stings.

Much of the memoir is about Elizabeth's attempts to revive and organize the massive gardens surrounding her home, although there are some passages of domestic life. As she expresses multiple times, Elizabeth feels most at home in nature, and show more stifled in her house, where the mundane tasks of overseeing house servants, choosing dinner, and running a household make her feel trapped. Generally I wouldn't be too excited about recollections about gardens, but the author brings life to her gardening voyages with witty remarks and self-deprecating humor. Because she cared how her roses would turn out, I cared. I enjoyed watching her garden evolve.

What impressed me most about this memoir, though, was Elizabeth herself. She is an independent and forward-thinking woman. She begrudges the fact that she can't work in the garden all by herself (she has to hire a gardener to do the work that she can only plan out), she deplores not being able to get her hands dirty, and she wants to just sit and read without feeling the censure of other women for being too intellectual. She was a modern woman living in not-modern times. So many things we take for granted these days were challenges, if not downright impossible, for women in her time. Yet she resists these limitations, to the fullest extent of her resources, and I loved her for it. With Elizabeth as narrator this was a charming and easy read. show less

The Man of Wrath

This is the third and earliest of von Arnim’s books in my collection, and it like the others was a joy to read.

Unlike Vera which is also semi-autobiographical, this book tells of the happier marriage to a wealthy German who Elizabeth facetiously refers to as “The Man of Wrath”. Count Henning August von Arnim-Schlagenthin is portrayed as an old-fashioned boring Teuton, best ignored. And Elizabeth does her best to ignore him. She has her own way, by politely acting as if she does not even hear what he had to say, and spends her life planning and enjoying her garden in an old Pomeranian Manson.

Elizabeth and Henning have three children who are four, five and six in the book. Elizabeth calls them “babies” and refers show more to them by the names of the months they were born in.

Thus we have April Baby, May Baby and June Baby, Elizabeth talks about the babies in the same way as she talks about her flowers, flowers that take on childlike qualities. Bluebells peep cheekily through the snow. Petunias raise their quaint little heads in the morning.

A gardener plants the flowers. A governess looks after April Baby, May Baby and June Baby.

Elizabeth lives a life of privilege. She can do as she pleases, weather permitting. She’s a charming and witty young woman, who doesn’t tolerate fools gladly. And except for one close friend fools include her husband and most of the people she knows or whose paths cross hers.

The peasant are ignorant, less than animals and oh so annoying when they return to Russia in winter to see their families

Similar to Jane Austen’s Emma Elizabeth goes through life without a real care in the world. Unlike Emma though, Elizabeth is never sorry. Elizabeth has to be taken as one finds her. Any delving into the background of the social class structure of the time will be horrified to read of her referring to laborers as “menials”. I suggest the social squeamish stay away. An LT member reviewing the book exclaimed, “What a crock of über-privileged shit!”
As for me I found I could suspend my politics and I loved both - Elizabeth and her German Garden. show less

Short review: What a crock of über-privileged shit!

Slightly longer review: I went into this knowing that "Lives of the rich and privileged" is not the genre for me, and after struggling for 30 pages, had this preference resoundingly confirmed. Had there been an element of authorial knowingness about the main character's disdain for her servants, that would have been some kind of redeeming quality, but the reason given for Elizabeth's (both the character and, presumably, the author) dislike of "boxing the maids ears" is not because it is abusive and manifestly wrong in principle, but because she herself would feel "wretched" to have her tranquility disturbed by the necessity of chastising intransigent staff.

It's a pity, as behind the show more aristocratic elitism there seems to be a good story being told about an introverted, socially anxious, bookish woman who prefers the company of nature and children to bourgeois society and men. She's just stuck too far up her own arse for me to keep that in sight. show less

I’ve finally put pen to paper about this book! It seems a book that polarises opinion. I shouldn’t have read as many reviews as I did before posting, because all that did was make me doubt my thoughts! Is Elizabeth writing from a pedestal of wealth and privilege or, is she wagging her finger at that very elitism or, none of the above? Can anyone say for sure? My thoughts for what they’re worth are - Elizabeth wasn’t a gardener in the true, go get your hands dirty way but she loved her garden, loved being in it more than anything else. “What a happy woman I am living in a garden, with books , babies, birds, and flowers, and plenty of leisure to enjoy them!” Her joy in spending time reading, pottering and being with her show more ‘babies’ is what I took from this book. In 1898 she was lucky to able to indulge her whims because of an early marriage to a Prussian noble. She was surprisingly antisocial for the time, preferring and being perfectly happy with her own company. I don’t feel she abused that entitlement however, this is where the controversy seems to come between readers. At times I found her opinions refreshingly original. One thing I was surprised to learn, Elizabeth von Arnim was Australian, born at Kirribilli in Sydney. (I loved Enchanted April, read many years ago - 5 stars) show less