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selenakWell, I've already written a couple of times about one of my favourite diarists, James Boswell. (See link for why I like him.) The 18th century was a good age for interesting diaries in general, for what makes a historical journal fascinating to me is a mixture between the diarist being a good observer who records intriguing details of the day and also the diarist being someone whose own personality comes across vividly in the diary. It's tricky when the diarist is a professional writer, because on the one hand, it can been a more assured and compelling narration, but on the other, it can also mean too much self progaganda, in that later successful writers definitely are aware their diaries will probably end up being published after their death. (Hence also the difference between, say, Bert Brecht's journal in the early 1920s, which actually feels like a diary, or the "Arbeitsjournal", "working journal" from the 1940s, which while containing some memorably snarky entries on Los Angeles in general and Thomas Mann in particular feels way too dogmatic and wanting to get across messages to be interesting as a diary. (Speaking of Thomas Mann - his diaries are antipathetic to me not because they don't have the occasional vulnerable moment, but because the "I am Thomas Mann, future scholar of literature, be properly in awe of me" feeling seems to drip from every page.)
(Sylvia Plath in her journal is a fascinating case of both feeling spontanous and feeling like a deliberate construction of a self. And specifically one that's different from the self she offers to her mother in her letters to her. But while the diaries are compelling and vividly written and intense, they also feel a bit claustrophobic at times, in that what holds one's interest - welll, mine, this is all imo as always - is the emotional drama going on, but the journals tell you little about Britain and the US in the late 50s and early 60s, not even the specific academic-literary section of it Sylvia Plath inhabited.)
Now, last year I discovered a new-to-me historical diariest who pushed all my buttons, rather unexpectedly. I came across him when during my Frederick II & Company discussions withcahn and mildred_of_midgard I realised that several of the newer biographies kept referring one particular source for interesting eye witness quotes and descriptions, and it wasn't the Swiss Henri de Catt, whose memoirs are pobably the most famous among those written about Friedrich II. of Prussia. No, it was one Ernst Ahasverus von Lehndorff, who at age 19 in the later 1740s got the job of Chamberlain to Frederick's unloved and unwanted Queen Elisabeth Christine. ("Was Frederick the Great married?" is a trick question you can flumox people with, because these days most people don't know he was, which is understandable, since he lived with his wife only a few years until his father had died; afterwards, they lived in different palaces and while attending the occasional ceremony together essentially lived seperate lives). Young Lehndorff quickly befriended the King's three equally young brothers and hung out with them so much that if you read his journals, you sometimes wonder when he was doing his actual job (for the Queen). And then he started to crush on one brother in particular, Heinrich. (Heinrich, like big brother Friedrich, was gay. (There were other similarities, too, as well as differences, which made for an explosive and fascinatingly messed up fraternal relationship.) For Heinrich, this was a friendship with benefits thing; he kept Lehndorff as a friend, but he had many other lovers. For Lehndorff, this was the big passion of his life, through 50 years, two marriages, and years of separation (what with the 7 Years War going on in between). Quoth he: " I feel something for him I haven't felt for anyone else. Sometimes I wish he was poor, so I could give him anything I have; at other times, I would be ready to do the most humble service if only that meant I could be always with him. "
Lehndorff's diaries aren't just interesting because they offer a Prussian Rococo Queer as Folk AU, mind you. The reason why he keeps getting quoted from in various biographies is because he either met or knew most interesting people in Frederick's Prussia, and he was able to describe them vividly (and immensely quotably), even if he usually had only a long distance view on the King himself. (Much to his frustration. He'd rather have worked for the King than the Queen, whom he found boring, poor woman.) Then there are the big set pieces, like the time the court evacuates from Berlin because the Austrians are coming mid war. ("The entire court stops at the palace in Potsdam. The Queen has never been here before, and I cannot help but marvel at the strange stroke of fate that the Queen of Hungary must send an army to Berlin in order for the Queen of Prussia to be allowed to see her husband's residence." )
(The Queen of Hungary = how Friedrich and thus also most of his subjects refered to his arch nemesis Maria Theresia. Technically correct, but meant as a diss, as opposed to referring to her as the Empress, or the Empress-Queen.)
Rounding this off, there's Lehndorff's personality. Rare for a Prussian nobleman of his time, he has no military background, due to having been mishandled as a small child which resulted in a never properly healed broken foot, which resulted in a life long lame leg. (It does come up now and then, especially in war time.) Otherwise, he's very much a child of his very emotive era; when he's enthusiastic about something, he's practically gushing, when he's depressed, it's the worst day ever. This applies both when he doesn't get the inheritance which as a younger son he'd hoped for from a distant uncle, and when his beloved Prince has to attend Older Brother in Potsdam for the next ten days as opposed to being with Lehndorff in Berlin. Living in a pre- 19th century world, masculinity isn't yet tied to not expressing emotion, so Lehndorff cries and raves easily and feely. Generally, he comes across as adorkable.
At the same time, he's absolutely capable of delivering the occasional burn about people he doesn't like. ("I travel with my wife to Wolmirstedt where we've been invited by Obermarschall Wallenrodt. There is a great celebration apropos the wedding of one old General Katt with a Fräulein v. Möllendorf. I mention the age of the newly wedded because his wife the day after the wedding told him: "You haven't heard me come up last night, you were too soundly asleep.")
He has all the scandalous gossip you won't find in pre 20th century biographies of Frederick the Great, because Lehndorff's diaries weren't publically available until from 1907 onwards:
I renew my acquaitance with a man I had not seen since the year 1749. It is a young Marwitz, who started his career as page with the King, and who became a favourite with him as well as with Prince Heinrich. This affection went so far that the two royal brothers turned incredibly furious on each other for his sake. The young page was sent away, but due to urgent pleadings on Prince Heinrich's side, he got a commission in the guard. Some time later, the Prince accused him of falsehood and bad manners, and banished him completely from his company. Since then, the King has occasionally favoured him with his grace, but in the next moment sends him to guard duty and treats him like a criminal. This man now resurfaces on the horizon; the Prince tells me that he is quite amiable, that he invites him to his parties again, and the King has made him his batman. He posseses wit and is somewhat strongly fantastical; I consider him malicious.
And he's able to get across the various personalities of his era very vividly, whether he knows them well - i.e. members of the royal family - or meets them just a few times, or even just once, as with Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf (think Madame de Pompadour, Prussian edition), in the last year of Fredersdorf's life:
I make only one more visit, to the famous Fredersdorf, who under the title of "valet to the King" has played the role of prime minister for so long. For if anyone deserves this title, he does. At least he enjoyed such renown in the world that I have often seen him surrounded by knights and excellencies who made pretty deep bows to him, and his antechambre was often filled with state ministers and great lords. As far as I was concerned, I never had the cowardice to flatter him, nor did I seek him out except for now, when he no longer is connected to his majesty. His ill health, his jealousy of the famous Glasow, his riches and especially his desire for a quiet life have caused him to beg the King long enough so that the King allowed him to resign his positions. For this man basically filled out all the court offices. He supervised all the buildings, the King's accounts and treasure, all the staff, in short, after the King he was the only one who ruled, and often did so somewhat despotically. He is currently even more sick, the hemmorhoides have nearly devoured him. It is not a little amazing that a common man from the most backward Pommarania without any education could aquire such decency, grace of conduct and quickness of mind. A very pretty face aided him and was the beginning of his fortune, and through his intelligence, he managed to keep and defend such a difficult position as his. Most of all, though, I admire that he was able to withdraw in time, which is such a delicate matter for men who have a position equal to that of a beautiful woman when she notices her looks are fading. I remain with him until 11 in the evening and then return to the house of Frau V. Ingersleben, where I am lodging.
In conclusion: Lehndorff has become a firm new favourite on my historical diarist firmament. If you want more quotes from his diaries, check out this post.
The Other Days
(Sylvia Plath in her journal is a fascinating case of both feeling spontanous and feeling like a deliberate construction of a self. And specifically one that's different from the self she offers to her mother in her letters to her. But while the diaries are compelling and vividly written and intense, they also feel a bit claustrophobic at times, in that what holds one's interest - welll, mine, this is all imo as always - is the emotional drama going on, but the journals tell you little about Britain and the US in the late 50s and early 60s, not even the specific academic-literary section of it Sylvia Plath inhabited.)
Now, last year I discovered a new-to-me historical diariest who pushed all my buttons, rather unexpectedly. I came across him when during my Frederick II & Company discussions with
cahn and mildred_of_midgard I realised that several of the newer biographies kept referring one particular source for interesting eye witness quotes and descriptions, and it wasn't the Swiss Henri de Catt, whose memoirs are pobably the most famous among those written about Friedrich II. of Prussia. No, it was one Ernst Ahasverus von Lehndorff, who at age 19 in the later 1740s got the job of Chamberlain to Frederick's unloved and unwanted Queen Elisabeth Christine. ("Was Frederick the Great married?" is a trick question you can flumox people with, because these days most people don't know he was, which is understandable, since he lived with his wife only a few years until his father had died; afterwards, they lived in different palaces and while attending the occasional ceremony together essentially lived seperate lives). Young Lehndorff quickly befriended the King's three equally young brothers and hung out with them so much that if you read his journals, you sometimes wonder when he was doing his actual job (for the Queen). And then he started to crush on one brother in particular, Heinrich. (Heinrich, like big brother Friedrich, was gay. (There were other similarities, too, as well as differences, which made for an explosive and fascinatingly messed up fraternal relationship.) For Heinrich, this was a friendship with benefits thing; he kept Lehndorff as a friend, but he had many other lovers. For Lehndorff, this was the big passion of his life, through 50 years, two marriages, and years of separation (what with the 7 Years War going on in between). Quoth he: " I feel something for him I haven't felt for anyone else. Sometimes I wish he was poor, so I could give him anything I have; at other times, I would be ready to do the most humble service if only that meant I could be always with him. "Lehndorff's diaries aren't just interesting because they offer a Prussian Rococo Queer as Folk AU, mind you. The reason why he keeps getting quoted from in various biographies is because he either met or knew most interesting people in Frederick's Prussia, and he was able to describe them vividly (and immensely quotably), even if he usually had only a long distance view on the King himself. (Much to his frustration. He'd rather have worked for the King than the Queen, whom he found boring, poor woman.) Then there are the big set pieces, like the time the court evacuates from Berlin because the Austrians are coming mid war. ("The entire court stops at the palace in Potsdam. The Queen has never been here before, and I cannot help but marvel at the strange stroke of fate that the Queen of Hungary must send an army to Berlin in order for the Queen of Prussia to be allowed to see her husband's residence." )
(The Queen of Hungary = how Friedrich and thus also most of his subjects refered to his arch nemesis Maria Theresia. Technically correct, but meant as a diss, as opposed to referring to her as the Empress, or the Empress-Queen.)
Rounding this off, there's Lehndorff's personality. Rare for a Prussian nobleman of his time, he has no military background, due to having been mishandled as a small child which resulted in a never properly healed broken foot, which resulted in a life long lame leg. (It does come up now and then, especially in war time.) Otherwise, he's very much a child of his very emotive era; when he's enthusiastic about something, he's practically gushing, when he's depressed, it's the worst day ever. This applies both when he doesn't get the inheritance which as a younger son he'd hoped for from a distant uncle, and when his beloved Prince has to attend Older Brother in Potsdam for the next ten days as opposed to being with Lehndorff in Berlin. Living in a pre- 19th century world, masculinity isn't yet tied to not expressing emotion, so Lehndorff cries and raves easily and feely. Generally, he comes across as adorkable.
At the same time, he's absolutely capable of delivering the occasional burn about people he doesn't like. ("I travel with my wife to Wolmirstedt where we've been invited by Obermarschall Wallenrodt. There is a great celebration apropos the wedding of one old General Katt with a Fräulein v. Möllendorf. I mention the age of the newly wedded because his wife the day after the wedding told him: "You haven't heard me come up last night, you were too soundly asleep.")
He has all the scandalous gossip you won't find in pre 20th century biographies of Frederick the Great, because Lehndorff's diaries weren't publically available until from 1907 onwards:
I renew my acquaitance with a man I had not seen since the year 1749. It is a young Marwitz, who started his career as page with the King, and who became a favourite with him as well as with Prince Heinrich. This affection went so far that the two royal brothers turned incredibly furious on each other for his sake. The young page was sent away, but due to urgent pleadings on Prince Heinrich's side, he got a commission in the guard. Some time later, the Prince accused him of falsehood and bad manners, and banished him completely from his company. Since then, the King has occasionally favoured him with his grace, but in the next moment sends him to guard duty and treats him like a criminal. This man now resurfaces on the horizon; the Prince tells me that he is quite amiable, that he invites him to his parties again, and the King has made him his batman. He posseses wit and is somewhat strongly fantastical; I consider him malicious.
And he's able to get across the various personalities of his era very vividly, whether he knows them well - i.e. members of the royal family - or meets them just a few times, or even just once, as with Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf (think Madame de Pompadour, Prussian edition), in the last year of Fredersdorf's life:
I make only one more visit, to the famous Fredersdorf, who under the title of "valet to the King" has played the role of prime minister for so long. For if anyone deserves this title, he does. At least he enjoyed such renown in the world that I have often seen him surrounded by knights and excellencies who made pretty deep bows to him, and his antechambre was often filled with state ministers and great lords. As far as I was concerned, I never had the cowardice to flatter him, nor did I seek him out except for now, when he no longer is connected to his majesty. His ill health, his jealousy of the famous Glasow, his riches and especially his desire for a quiet life have caused him to beg the King long enough so that the King allowed him to resign his positions. For this man basically filled out all the court offices. He supervised all the buildings, the King's accounts and treasure, all the staff, in short, after the King he was the only one who ruled, and often did so somewhat despotically. He is currently even more sick, the hemmorhoides have nearly devoured him. It is not a little amazing that a common man from the most backward Pommarania without any education could aquire such decency, grace of conduct and quickness of mind. A very pretty face aided him and was the beginning of his fortune, and through his intelligence, he managed to keep and defend such a difficult position as his. Most of all, though, I admire that he was able to withdraw in time, which is such a delicate matter for men who have a position equal to that of a beautiful woman when she notices her looks are fading. I remain with him until 11 in the evening and then return to the house of Frau V. Ingersleben, where I am lodging.
In conclusion: Lehndorff has become a firm new favourite on my historical diarist firmament. If you want more quotes from his diaries, check out this post.
The Other Days
no subject
Date: 2020-01-20 04:36 pm (UTC)"Was Frederick the Great married?" is a trick question you can flumox people with, because these days most people don't know he was
I assume you mean in Germany, because if you pulled someone off the streets in the US, the marital status of pretty much every European monarch before living memory would be a trick question. :P Henry VIII is the biggest exception I can think of.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-20 05:06 pm (UTC)I assume you mean in Germany, because if you pulled someone off the streets in the US, the marital status of pretty much every European monarch before living memory would be a trick question.
I meant in Germany, because I'm not sure how far even der Einzige is known outside of Germany these days. ,) Seriously though, yours truly made it out of school convinced Old Fritz had been a bachalor (in legal status as well as de facto) and did not learn otherwise until years later.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-20 05:26 pm (UTC)Indeed! This is what our gracious hostess describes as our magical (mercury-free) alchemy.
Oh, wow. So that article I found that stated that he had time for all those accomplishments because he never married was expressing a more widely held belief than I realized! I always knew he was married, but my history with Old Fritz is very atypical and fannish.
I'm not sure how far even der Einzige is known outside of Germany these days
Not very, in the US. I think