GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Munich, 10-13 May 1858
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Munich, 10-13 May 1858
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Munich, 10-13 May 1858
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Sara Sophia Hennell
Date(s)
- 1858-05-10–<br /> 1858-05-13
Place
Munich
Letter Content
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Munich, 10-13 May 1858
MS: Yale. Extracts published: Cross, II, 34-39.
Luitpold Strasse, 15 | Munich | May 10th 1858.
Dear Sara
I write to you again so soon because I want you, whenever you have a spare moment, to tell me how all has been going on with you for the last month -- how Mrs. Hennell is, and what sort of spirits and health you are in yourself.
Our life here is very agreeable -- full of pleasant novelty, although we take things quietly, and observe our working hours just as if we were at Richmond. People are so kind to us that we feel already quite at home, sip Baierisch Bier with great tolerance, and talk bad German with more and more aplomb. The place, you know, swarms with professors of all sorts -- all gr'fcndlich, of course, and one or two of them great. There is no one we are more charmed with than Liebig. Mr.
Lewes had no letter to him -- we merely met him at an evening party 1126 -- yet he has been particularly kind to us, and seems to have taken a benevolent liking to me. We dined with him and his family yesterday, and saw how men of European celebrity may put up with greasy cooking in private life. He lives in very good German style, however, has a handsome suite of apartments, and makes a greater figure than most of the professors. His manners are charming -- easy, graceful, benignant, and all the more conspicuous because he is so quiet and low-spoken among the loud talkers here. It is touching to look at his hands, the skin begrimed and the nails black to the roots. He looks best in his laboratory with his velvet cap on, holding little phials in his hand and talking of Kreatine and Kreatinine in the same easy way that well bred ladies talk scandal. He is one of the professors who have been called here by the present king, Max, who seems to be a really sensible man among kings -- gets up at five o'clock in the morning to study, and every Saturday evening has a gathering of the first men in science and literature, that he may 'abgather'bb benefit by their opinions on important subjects. At this "Tafel-rund," every man is [required] to say honestly what he thinks -- every one may contradict every one else -- and if the King suspects any one of a polite insincerity, the too polished man is invited no more. Liebig, the three poets -- Geibel, 1127 Heyse, 1128 and Bodenstedt, and a Professor L'f6her, 1129 a writer of considerable mark, are always at the Tafel-rund, as an understood part of their functions; the rest are invited according to the King's direction. Bodenstadt is one of our best friends here -- enormously instructed after the fashion of Germans, but not at all stupid with it. Like all the best men here, he is a North German, and has not acquired the Bavarian habit of spending his evenings at the Kneipe, drinking beer, smoking tobacco, and trying to talk down his companions. That is the understood mode of life for all genuine Bavarians, however cultivated, and you may imagine what is the character of the women dabei. It is quite an exception to meet with a woman who seems to expect any sort of companionship from the men, and I shudder at the sight of a woman in society, for I know I shall have to sit on the sofa with her all the evening listening to her stupidities, while the men on the other side of the table are discussing all the subjects I care to hear about. And the stupidity of a Bavarian woman --
I think I was going to say that the stupidity of a Bavarian woman has not the virtue even of German cabbage -- it is not copious, liberal, abundant -- it is stingy, feeble, barren of propositions. But there [are] exceptions to this dreadful description. And happily there is such a colony of North Germans among the educated people that one hopes there may be a gradual modification through their influence.
Mr. Lewes is in a state of perfect bliss this morning. He is gone to the Akademie 1130 to see wonders through von Siebold's microscope and watch him dissecting. We were at his house last night to meet a party of celebrities, and, what was better, to see the prettiest little picture of married life -- the great comparative anatomist (von Siebold) seated at the piano in his spectacles, playing the difficult accompaniments to Schubert's songs, while his little round-faced wife sang them with much taste and feeling. They are not young -- von Siebold is grey, and probably more than fifty, his wife perhaps nearly forty, and it is all the prettier to see their admiration of each other. She said to Mr. Lewes, when he was speaking of her husband, "Ja, er ist ein netter Mann, nicht wahr?"
We take the Art in very small draughts at present, the German hours being difficult to adjust to our occupations. We are obliged to dine at one! and, of course, when we are well enough, must work till then. There is no moving for two hours afterwards, and then all the great public exhibitions are closed -- except the churches. There must have been a great deal built and completed since you were here -- the colossal Bavaria and the Ruhmeshalle 1131 -- the Basilica and the Ludwigs-kirche, the one full of frescoes by Hess, 1132 the other of frescoes by Cornelius. 1133 But alas! I cannot admire much of the modern German art. It is for the most part elaborate lifelessness. Kaulbach's great compositions are huge charades, and I have seen nothing of his equal to his own Reineke
Fuchs. It is an unspeakable relief, after staring at one of his huge pictures, the Destruction of Jerusalem, for example, which is a regular child's puzzle of symbolism, to sweep it all out of one's mind -- which is very easily done, for nothing grasps you in it -- and call up in your imagination a little Gerard Dow that you have seen hanging in a corner of one of the cabinets. Kaulbach himself is not much liked here: some are jealous, of course, for he has made a very large fortune, while others who think themselves equal to him are in poverty, getting no royal orders to execute; others have been offended by his whims etc. etc. -- At Munich, as well as in London, one must listen with a grain of scepticism. We have been to his atelier, and he has given us a proof of his Irrenhaus, a strange sketch which he made years ago, very terrible and powerful. He is certainly a man of great faculty, but is, I imagine carried out of his true path by the ambition to produce "Weltgeschichtliche Bilder," which the critics (German) may go into raptures about. His "Battle of the Huns" which is the most impressive of all his great pictures was the first of the series. He painted it simply under the inspiration of the grand myth about the spirits of the dead warriors rising and carrying on the battle in the air. Straightway the German critics began to smoke furiously that vile tobacco which they call AEsthetik, declared it a "Weltgeschichtliches Bild," and ever since, Kaulbach has been concocting these pictures, in which, instead of taking a single moment of reality, and trusting to the infinite symbolism that belongs to all nature, he attempts to give you at one view a succession of events, each represented by some group which may mean "whichever you please, my little dear."
I must tell you something else which interested me greatly as the first example of the kind that has come under my observation. Among the awful mysterious names hitherto known only as marginal references, whom we have learned to clothe with ordinary flesh and blood is Prof. Martius 1134 ("Spix and Martius"), now an old man, and rich, after the manner of being rich in Germany. He has a very sweet wife -- one of those women who remain pretty and graceful in old age -- and a family of three daughters and one son -- all more than grown up. I had suspected that Frau Martius was a Catholic, yet it seemed to me, from the Professor's Wesen, impossible that he could be a Catholic too. So the other night, I asked the charming Frau, and learned that she is
Catholic, that her daughters are Catholic, and her husband and son Protestant, the children having been so brought up according to the German law in cases of mixed marriage. I can't tell you how interesting it was to me to hear her tell of her experience in bringing up her son conscientiously as a Protestant, she herself being a Catholic all the while, and then to hear her and her daughters speak of the exemplary priests who had shown them such tender fatherly care when they were in trouble. They are the most harmonious affectionate family we have seen, and one delights in such a triumph of human goodness over the formal logic of theorists.
But I go on scribbling in a meagre way what is present in my own imagination, forgetting that this bit of paper will carry no picture to you. Goodbye, and God bless you -- Love to all.
Your affectionate
Marian.
I was sorry to hear there was anything in Mr. Call's article 1135 that you didn't understand. I admired it thoroughly. On the other hand I did not admire Dr. Chapman's part, 1136 and was obliged to tell him so, when he sent me the proof. However, he cut off the last few pages, which were the most objectionable. There are several misstatements in his part. But it is well that readers differ. We all get admired in our turn.
MS: Yale. Extracts published: Cross, II, 34-39.
Luitpold Strasse, 15 | Munich | May 10th 1858.
Dear Sara
I write to you again so soon because I want you, whenever you have a spare moment, to tell me how all has been going on with you for the last month -- how Mrs. Hennell is, and what sort of spirits and health you are in yourself.
Our life here is very agreeable -- full of pleasant novelty, although we take things quietly, and observe our working hours just as if we were at Richmond. People are so kind to us that we feel already quite at home, sip Baierisch Bier with great tolerance, and talk bad German with more and more aplomb. The place, you know, swarms with professors of all sorts -- all gr'fcndlich, of course, and one or two of them great. There is no one we are more charmed with than Liebig. Mr.
Lewes had no letter to him -- we merely met him at an evening party 1126 -- yet he has been particularly kind to us, and seems to have taken a benevolent liking to me. We dined with him and his family yesterday, and saw how men of European celebrity may put up with greasy cooking in private life. He lives in very good German style, however, has a handsome suite of apartments, and makes a greater figure than most of the professors. His manners are charming -- easy, graceful, benignant, and all the more conspicuous because he is so quiet and low-spoken among the loud talkers here. It is touching to look at his hands, the skin begrimed and the nails black to the roots. He looks best in his laboratory with his velvet cap on, holding little phials in his hand and talking of Kreatine and Kreatinine in the same easy way that well bred ladies talk scandal. He is one of the professors who have been called here by the present king, Max, who seems to be a really sensible man among kings -- gets up at five o'clock in the morning to study, and every Saturday evening has a gathering of the first men in science and literature, that he may 'abgather'bb benefit by their opinions on important subjects. At this "Tafel-rund," every man is [required] to say honestly what he thinks -- every one may contradict every one else -- and if the King suspects any one of a polite insincerity, the too polished man is invited no more. Liebig, the three poets -- Geibel, 1127 Heyse, 1128 and Bodenstedt, and a Professor L'f6her, 1129 a writer of considerable mark, are always at the Tafel-rund, as an understood part of their functions; the rest are invited according to the King's direction. Bodenstadt is one of our best friends here -- enormously instructed after the fashion of Germans, but not at all stupid with it. Like all the best men here, he is a North German, and has not acquired the Bavarian habit of spending his evenings at the Kneipe, drinking beer, smoking tobacco, and trying to talk down his companions. That is the understood mode of life for all genuine Bavarians, however cultivated, and you may imagine what is the character of the women dabei. It is quite an exception to meet with a woman who seems to expect any sort of companionship from the men, and I shudder at the sight of a woman in society, for I know I shall have to sit on the sofa with her all the evening listening to her stupidities, while the men on the other side of the table are discussing all the subjects I care to hear about. And the stupidity of a Bavarian woman --
I think I was going to say that the stupidity of a Bavarian woman has not the virtue even of German cabbage -- it is not copious, liberal, abundant -- it is stingy, feeble, barren of propositions. But there [are] exceptions to this dreadful description. And happily there is such a colony of North Germans among the educated people that one hopes there may be a gradual modification through their influence.
Mr. Lewes is in a state of perfect bliss this morning. He is gone to the Akademie 1130 to see wonders through von Siebold's microscope and watch him dissecting. We were at his house last night to meet a party of celebrities, and, what was better, to see the prettiest little picture of married life -- the great comparative anatomist (von Siebold) seated at the piano in his spectacles, playing the difficult accompaniments to Schubert's songs, while his little round-faced wife sang them with much taste and feeling. They are not young -- von Siebold is grey, and probably more than fifty, his wife perhaps nearly forty, and it is all the prettier to see their admiration of each other. She said to Mr. Lewes, when he was speaking of her husband, "Ja, er ist ein netter Mann, nicht wahr?"
We take the Art in very small draughts at present, the German hours being difficult to adjust to our occupations. We are obliged to dine at one! and, of course, when we are well enough, must work till then. There is no moving for two hours afterwards, and then all the great public exhibitions are closed -- except the churches. There must have been a great deal built and completed since you were here -- the colossal Bavaria and the Ruhmeshalle 1131 -- the Basilica and the Ludwigs-kirche, the one full of frescoes by Hess, 1132 the other of frescoes by Cornelius. 1133 But alas! I cannot admire much of the modern German art. It is for the most part elaborate lifelessness. Kaulbach's great compositions are huge charades, and I have seen nothing of his equal to his own Reineke
Fuchs. It is an unspeakable relief, after staring at one of his huge pictures, the Destruction of Jerusalem, for example, which is a regular child's puzzle of symbolism, to sweep it all out of one's mind -- which is very easily done, for nothing grasps you in it -- and call up in your imagination a little Gerard Dow that you have seen hanging in a corner of one of the cabinets. Kaulbach himself is not much liked here: some are jealous, of course, for he has made a very large fortune, while others who think themselves equal to him are in poverty, getting no royal orders to execute; others have been offended by his whims etc. etc. -- At Munich, as well as in London, one must listen with a grain of scepticism. We have been to his atelier, and he has given us a proof of his Irrenhaus, a strange sketch which he made years ago, very terrible and powerful. He is certainly a man of great faculty, but is, I imagine carried out of his true path by the ambition to produce "Weltgeschichtliche Bilder," which the critics (German) may go into raptures about. His "Battle of the Huns" which is the most impressive of all his great pictures was the first of the series. He painted it simply under the inspiration of the grand myth about the spirits of the dead warriors rising and carrying on the battle in the air. Straightway the German critics began to smoke furiously that vile tobacco which they call AEsthetik, declared it a "Weltgeschichtliches Bild," and ever since, Kaulbach has been concocting these pictures, in which, instead of taking a single moment of reality, and trusting to the infinite symbolism that belongs to all nature, he attempts to give you at one view a succession of events, each represented by some group which may mean "whichever you please, my little dear."
I must tell you something else which interested me greatly as the first example of the kind that has come under my observation. Among the awful mysterious names hitherto known only as marginal references, whom we have learned to clothe with ordinary flesh and blood is Prof. Martius 1134 ("Spix and Martius"), now an old man, and rich, after the manner of being rich in Germany. He has a very sweet wife -- one of those women who remain pretty and graceful in old age -- and a family of three daughters and one son -- all more than grown up. I had suspected that Frau Martius was a Catholic, yet it seemed to me, from the Professor's Wesen, impossible that he could be a Catholic too. So the other night, I asked the charming Frau, and learned that she is
Catholic, that her daughters are Catholic, and her husband and son Protestant, the children having been so brought up according to the German law in cases of mixed marriage. I can't tell you how interesting it was to me to hear her tell of her experience in bringing up her son conscientiously as a Protestant, she herself being a Catholic all the while, and then to hear her and her daughters speak of the exemplary priests who had shown them such tender fatherly care when they were in trouble. They are the most harmonious affectionate family we have seen, and one delights in such a triumph of human goodness over the formal logic of theorists.
But I go on scribbling in a meagre way what is present in my own imagination, forgetting that this bit of paper will carry no picture to you. Goodbye, and God bless you -- Love to all.
Your affectionate
Marian.
I was sorry to hear there was anything in Mr. Call's article 1135 that you didn't understand. I admired it thoroughly. On the other hand I did not admire Dr. Chapman's part, 1136 and was obliged to tell him so, when he sent me the proof. However, he cut off the last few pages, which were the most objectionable. There are several misstatements in his part. But it is well that readers differ. We all get admired in our turn.
Signature
Marian.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Munich, 10-13 May 1858, Complete George Eliot Letters(2026), George Eliot Archive, edited by Beverley Park Rilett. https://GeorgeEliotArchive.org, Accessed September 7, 2026. https://www.georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/94067