Elizabeth and her German Garden is a semi-autobiographical book written in 1898 by Elizabeth von Armin (author of The Enchanted April) about her life and garden in the area of Nassenheide, Pomerania, where the family had their estate (her husband was minor nobility).Pomerania is an area in the northeast part of Germany and northwest part of Poland, on the south shores of the Baltic Sea. And just because I like this picture, it's also the home of Malbork Castle, the largest castle in the world:This book is written in a loose diary form and doesn't have any plot to speak of; it's more like hanging out for a year with Elizabeth and her young family: a husband, called Man of Wrath for reasons not really readily apparent from the text, and three young daughters, ages 3-5, nicknamed the April, May and June babies. Visitors--some pleasant, some vastly irritating--come and go, or sometimes come and stay, even when Elizabeth would rather they just left. Frankly, Elizabeth really would rather everyone just left her alone so she could focus on her garden . . . not that Elizabeth really knows all that much about gardening, but she is determined to learn, and she loves being surrounded by flowers.I appreciated Elizabeth's passion for nature. If you're a gardening lover, you'll probably love this. In this book you will be frequently confronted with paragraphs like this one:I wish the years would pass quickly that will bring my garden to perfection! The Persian Yellows have gone into their new quarters, and their place is occupied by the tearose Safrano; all the rose beds hare carpeted with pansies sown in July and transplanted in October, each bed having a separate colour. The purple ones are the most charming and go well with every rose, but I have white ones with Laurette Messimy, and yellow ones with Safrano, and a new red sort in the big centre bed of red roses. . . . If this sort of language brings a thrill to your heart, you really need to read this book. Personally I sort of tolerated this kind of botanical rhapsodizing because (a) the book is so short (not much over 100 pages on my Kindle), and (b) Elizabeth pretty much gives equal time to talking--and sometimes snarking--about her family, visitors, and life in general, and she can be extremely funny.These despicable but irritating [mosquitoes] don't seem to have anything to do but to sit in multitudes on the sand, waiting for any prey Providence may send them; and as soon as the carriage appears they rise up in a cloud, and rush to meet us, almost dragging us out bodily, and never leave us until we drive away again. The sudden view of the sea from the messy, pine-covered height directly above it where we picnic; the wonderful stretch of lonely shore with the forest to the water's edge; the coloured sails in the blue distance; the freshness, the brightness, the vastness—all is lost upon the picnickers, and made worse than indifferent to them, by the perpetual necessity they are under of fighting these horrid creatures. It is nice being the only person who ever goes there or shows it to anybody, but if more people went, perhaps the mosquitoes would be less lean, and hungry, and pleased to see us. It has, however, the advantage of being a suitable place to which to take refractory visitors when they have stayed too long, or left my books out in the garden all night, or otherwise made their presence a burden too grievous to be borne; then one fine hot morning when they are all looking limp, I suddenly propose a picnic on the Baltic. I have never known this proposal fail to be greeted with exclamations of surprise and delight. "The Baltic! You never told us you were within driving distance? How heavenly to get a breath of sea air on a day like this! The very thought puts new life into one! And how delightful to see the Baltic! Oh, please take us!" And then I take them.Also, Elizabeth 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 in the comment thread to this review, for anyone who might find them helpful, along with our buddy read discussions. ETA: I've also copied these translations at the end of this review, per Hana's suggestion.Elizabeth's husband pops into the story from time to time. Occasionally he goes off into pompous lectures about the frailties and shortcomings of women. He seems to be doing it with tongue in cheek, just to tease his wife or bait the women listening to him, but I did find myself wondering just how much he really meant it, and these parts were irritating to read. So minus a star for those sections and for the parts when the gardening trivialities and minutiae made my eyes glaze over. But overall this is an enjoyable short novel about an unusual, intelligent, literate woman and her dislikes and passions, and a charming glimpse into a time long ago and far away."I don't love things that will only bear the garden for three or four months in the year and require coaxing and petting for the rest of it. Give me a garden full of strong, healthy creatures, able to stand roughness and cold without dismally giving in and dying. I never could see that delicacy of constitution is pretty, either in plants or women." 3 1/2 stars. September 2014 buddy read with Jeannette, Hana and Carolien.German translations (with apologies for any errors):sebr (typo in Gutenberg edition; should be "sehr") anspruchlos = very undemandingNoch ein dummes Frauenzimmer! = Another stupid female! ("Frauenzimmer" literally means "women's room;" it's an archaic, rather derogatory expression for a woman)unangenehme = unpleasantDie war doch immer verdreht = She was always nutty/crazyGasthof = an innBackfisch = an immature, adolescent girl (literally "baked fish")Unsinn = nonsenseFetzt (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 practicalWarte nur, wenn ich dich erst habe! = Just wait until I get hold of you!Frisur = hairdoDiesmal 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 griefAuge um Auge, Zahn um Zahn = eye for an eye, tooth for a toothHebe 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 burstWill 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 childSchlass (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)
Elizabeth is the young wife of a minor Prussian nobleman whose estate in Northern Germany near the Baltic is the setting for the garden she is planning. Elizabeth is at her best and happiest in spring and summer, nominally overseeing the renovation of the her husband’s house, but in truth, reveling in long indolent days in the utter solitude of her garden--reading, dreaming, delighting in each new glory of the unfolding spring. She fills the house with lilacs and rejoices in fields of daisies and dandelions.As an avid gardener myself, I thoroughly enjoyed Elizabeth’s long lyrical descriptions of trees and shrubs and wildflowers in bloom--they go on for pages and pages. When her children appear, they are charming and funny; three girls, all under the age of six and amusingly nicknamed April baby, May baby and June baby. The girls seem to share Elizabeth’s delight in the spring—or at least they don’t detract from it too much since, thankfully, there is plenty of money for nursemaids and other staff. From time to time her husband, dubbed the Man of Wrath, makes an appearance, putting a damper on things but doing little to earn his moniker. "It is less a garden than a wilderness....in the middle of this plain is the oasis of bird-cherries and greenery where I spend my happy days....""During those six weeks I lived in a world of dandelions and delights."But in the midst of this idyll, Elizabeth seems possessed of a strange restlessness, tearing off to England in one chapter, and in another, making an odd excursion to her ancestral home, now owned by cousins with whom she has quarreled. Here she wanders through the family gardens, terrified lest a relative emerge to find her trespassing. In flashbacks we glimpse her as a solitary child, meet her stern grandfather and equally stern, but more beloved, father. The whole is enlivened by Elizabeth’s sharp wit and sense of the ridiculous: her grandfather, on the death of his wife, comforts himself by developing a new potato variety which he names, Consolation in Grief.Alas, winter is inevitable, especially in the north of Germany, and Elizabeth in winter is a different creature altogether. I found the months spent in her snowbound house a vaguely claustrophobic experience. Elizabeth and her friend Irais amuse themselves by casting serious shade on another guest of house, an utterly clueless English art student named Minora.The hapless Minora is also writing a book: '“Oh, I thought of calling it Journeyings in Germany. It sounds well, and would be correct. Or Jottings from German Journeyings--I haven't quite decided yet...”“By the author of Prowls in Pomerania...,” suggested Irais. “And Drivel from Dresden,” said I.’Some weeks later Minora, perhaps under the influence of too much Glühwein, proposed 'to teach us a dance called, I think, the Washington Post....We remained untouched by its beauties, each buried in an easy-chair toasting our toes at the fire. Amongst those toes were those of the Man of Wrath, who sat peaceably reading a book and smoking...."Do let me teach you. Won't you try, Herr Sage?....Oh come, put away that tiresome old book,” she went on gaily...’ This occasions The Man of Wrath to pontificate for pages and pages about the foibles of women. By the end of January, I was heartily sick of the whole lot of them.I found the feminist musings tiresome, the insights into Prussian culture fascinating, but my favorite part will always be Elizabeth’s glorious garden in springtime. Buddy read with Tadiana, Jeannette and Carolien. Special thanks to Tadiana for serving as our German translator. Recommended by Karlyne Landrum and Jane Steen
Do You like book Elizabeth And Her German Garden (2001)?
Elizabeth von Antrim published this wry, hilarious memoir of her days gardening in Germany about a century ago. The prose is of its time in many ways, as are the politics of class and gender, but Elizabeth's sense of humour, her self-deprecating, honest and clear-eyed reflections on herself, her children, her husband (the Man of Wrath) and her gardeners rendered me almost speechless with laughter.I became one of those annoying readers who kept interrupting my long-suffering partner's silent reading to read out passages from Elizabeth. Elizabeth is an unconventional woman in many ways, although she is married to a young German aristocrat and enjoys the leisure of a woman of her class. Still, she's open about (among other things) her ambivalent feelings about her children, the irritations of employing gardeners who go mad, and her own failure to be elegant, removed and sensible.Perhaps my favourite passage involves Elizabeth's recount of returning to the family home that is now not hers - having passed through inheritance to cousins she's stopped talking to. Her tale of eating sandwiches in the rain, hiding in a wet ditch when a carriage approaches, and breaking and entering into her childhood garden only to be discovered by a young relative who mistakes her for a 'pilgrim' are absolutely hilarious.Who will like this book? Readers who like gardening and Austen novels, but like a bit of lemon in their tea.
—Nike Sulway
Elizabeth has a privileged life and has moved from England after her marriage to her German husband. She is uninterested in the expectations that she spends her many hours sewing, visiting neighbours, organising her household and supervising her servants. She wants only to escape into her wilderness garden and plan its transformation. She is a novice gardener but is passionate in her choice of plants, seeds and bulbs and she learns from her planting success and occasional mistakes. She has a gardener, as convention dictates, but she wishes she could take up the spade and trowel herself. Elizabeth is often frustrated by the elderly gardener too as she tries to instruct him that she doesn't want planting regimented but loves the more naturalistic style. He is not really interested or knowledgeable but carries out her wishes. Elizabeth has three children and she mentions them as the April, May and June babies and their ages range from three to five years. She loves them being around her but the governess plays a major role in their lives. She mentions her husband wryly as The Man of Wrath and he is an indulgent husband to what he feels is Elizabeth's eccentric behaviour. He is a man of few words apart from occasional outbursts where he spouts his controversial views, especially about women. I did feel that his arguments were often to antagonise his overly vocal female visitors. The writing is lovely and Elizabeth's enthusiasm and energy leaps off the page as she works at creating her perfect idyll.
—Sarah
Fictional autobiography would be the proper way to describe this book. Elizabeth is snarky and opinionated but in such an adorable way that you can't help but like her. All she wants to do is take care of her large garden and her three young children and be left alone. She tolerates her husband and refers to him as the "Man of Wrath". He "talks the talk" but Elizabeth doesn't let him "walk the walk". Her oldest baby girl is five, born in April and is appropriately called "The April Baby". The four year old was born in May and the three year old in June, and yes, they are "The May Baby" and "The June Baby". When some escaped cows threaten to trample the garden, The June Baby grabs a stick bigger than herself and holds the astonished cows at bay until help arrives. I was pleasantly surprised and entertained, and what more can you ask of a book.
—Duane
