I really like this kind. Among the novels,

it reminds me of Jane Austen.

But unfortunately, the translation has done it injustice.

Jane Austen's works are renowned for their细腻的 character portrayals, witty dialogues, and profound insights into human nature.

Her stories often revolve around the lives and loves of the upper-middle class in 19th-century England.

However, when her works are translated, some of the nuances and subtleties may be lost.

This can lead to a less-than-optimal reading experience for those who are not familiar with the original language.

It is important to ensure that translations are as faithful as possible to the original text, while also making the work accessible to a wider audience.

Perhaps with better translations, more people can discover and appreciate the genius of Jane Austen.

I thoroughly enjoyed Fitzgerald's remarkable economy of prose, just as I had experienced when delving into her novel "The Bookshop." The historical setting, which was late 1700's Germany, added a captivating layer to the story. Moreover, the influence of German Romanticism on the plot made for an incredibly densely rich reading experience. It was truly a pleasure to immerse myself in this world she had created.

As a result of this wonderful encounter, I have firmly decided to read more works by this talented author. I am eager to explore the other stories and perspectives she has to offer.

Regarding the occasional comparisons drawn between Jane Austen and Penelope Fitzgerald, I would like to offer my own thoughts. In my opinion, I find Fitzgerald to be more psychological in her approach. She seems to delve deeper into the inner workings of her characters' minds, exploring their individual motivations and desires. On the other hand, Austen appears to focus more on social relationships. Her works often shed light on the complex web of interactions within society, highlighting the various social norms and expectations.

Both authors have their unique strengths and魅力, and I look forward to further exploring their literary contributions.

The original reading date: 2008

A novel about late love and early liberation. It's not just beautiful. It's good.

This novel seems to tell a story that is both touching and thought-provoking. The concept of late love implies that love can blossom at any stage of life, perhaps when we least expect it. And early liberation might suggest that the characters in the story find a way to break free from the constraints that have held them back, whether it be emotional, social, or otherwise.

The description "it's not just beautiful" makes me curious to know what else this novel has to offer. Maybe it has complex characters, a unique plot, or a profound message that will stay with the reader long after they've finished turning the pages. I can't wait to explore this novel further and discover all that it has in store.

I took out "Die blaue Blume" from the shelf of my brother's collection of the Süddeutsche Bibliothek series. I wasn't sure if it would meet my expectations for this slim volume.

Penelope Fitzgerald writes in a style similar to Antonia S. Byatt, which reminds one of an ink wash drawing, fine, delicate, and detailed - but unlike "The Children's Book," which seems a bit bloodless, "Die blaue Blume" is full of the smells, colors, and atmospheres of the era of Novalis, Fichte, and Goethe. Whether it's about the main characters in the short story of this little book or one of the numerous secondary characters on one of the many settings - Fitzgerald manages to breathe life into the golem with just a few sentences. Unobtrusively, almost imperceptibly, these characters not only gain contour but also a body and a voice. And it's only when reading the afterword that the reader realizes how much they have all grown dear to him. A masterpiece of simplicity and accuracy!

This book truly transports the reader back in time, allowing them to experience the essence of that particular era. Fitzgerald's writing is so vivid and engaging that it makes the story come alive on the page. It's a remarkable achievement that showcases her talent as a writer.

The detailed descriptions of the settings and the characters add depth and authenticity to the narrative. The reader can almost smell the scents of the period and envision the scenes as if they were there.

"Die blaue Blume" is a must-read for anyone interested in literature, history, or simply a good story. It's a book that will stay with you long after you've turned the last page.

Intriguing book - a German poet and philosopher, with no real prospects of inheriting anything more than a management position, is sent to a variety of universities. At the age of 24, he meets 12-year-old Sophie. From the moment he meets her, he wants to marry her. She is not attractive, not overly smart, but is willing to form an engagement until she is old enough to marry. However, she never gets there.

The book is set in 1794, an era when German philosophers were seeking the meaning of life and challenging the Church, State, and noble class. The writing has a simplicity that effectively captures the environment, the times, and the naivety of the characters. It offers a unique perspective on the social and intellectual climate of that period.

The relationship between the poet and Sophie adds an element of mystery and longing. Despite her flaws, he is drawn to her, perhaps because of her willingness to engage with him. The fact that she never reaches the age of marriage leaves the reader wondering what might have happened if she had.

Overall, this book is a fascinating exploration of love, philosophy, and the human condition in a specific historical context.

The story is indeed delightful, filled with engaging characters and an interesting plot that keeps the reader hooked from start to finish.

However, it falls short in one crucial aspect - it lacks the warmth that was so characteristic of her earlier novels.

In her previous works, the author had a remarkable ability to create a sense of emotional connection and depth that made the readers truly care about the characters and their fates.

There was a certain charm and tenderness that permeated every page, making the reading experience truly memorable.

Unfortunately, in this particular novel, that warmth seems to be missing.

The characters, while well-developed, don't quite have the same appeal, and the story feels a bit colder and more detached.

It's as if the author has sacrificed some of the emotional elements in favor of a more complex and perhaps more intellectually stimulating narrative.

Overall, while the novel is still enjoyable, it doesn't quite reach the heights of her earlier works.

It leaves the reader with a sense of disappointment, longing for that warmth and connection that was once a hallmark of the author's writing.

This is my favourite among the three Fitzgerald novels that I've read. Just like Gate of Angels and The Beginning of Spring, a great deal of research has been put into this novel.

Our preferences for a novel are often subjective and completely unfounded. And I truly love this novel, which, for me, has the charming sound of an early piano playing Mozart sonatas, early Beethoven, and here and there something by one of Old Bach's many musical sons. Am I overly influenced by the memory of a pizza eaten at Jena while waiting for a train on a hot summer's day many years ago? Without a doubt. So in my case, the setting's place and time and the intellectual realm of the characters intersect, and this brings me some happiness. It is the end of the Enlightenment and the shattering of the Ancien Regime (at least in mainland Europe) that provides the intellectual backdrop for this novel about Novalis. Glancing up and down my bookshelves, it is a period that fascinates me.

But it's not just about the intellectual aspects. Romanticism and romance collide with daily life ('\\"Here among the table-linen, I am disturbed by Fritz Hardenburg's young sister,\\" thought Dietmahler. \\"This is the sort of thing I meant to avoid.\\"'). Later, it turns out that she forgets him. Optimism is defeated by realities as chance fails to create happy couples or Cupid, feeling perverse, (or perverser) decides to save his arrows. The scene is a small one, but it's a perfect step into the puddle of our expectations. Eyes do not meet across a crowded room. There will be no happily ever after. Instead, there is just a double helping of life all around.

It is a novel with a distinct sense of place, from Jena to Weissenfels, places where you might well hear 'Come, we're Saxons. We can make a good dinner, even if our hearts are breaking' before sitting down to eat your fill. The combination of place and time means that Goethe even makes a cameo appearance (though not at the meal-table, but then he was not a Saxon by birth).

It is a bleak novel. Considering the plot is driven by Fritz Hardenberg falling in love with a twelve-year-old girl when he was twenty-two, this is not surprising (but this isn't a Lolita story set at the end of the eighteenth century). The bleakness stems from the typical cause of bleakness in early nineteenth-century lives, but cough, cough, this is too much of a spoiler, cough. The novel's final note is not so much resigned as it is bitter. The fruit never ripened but withered on the branch.

A gorgeous, elliptical book,

which immediately caught my attention due to its fascinating subject.

It's about an eighteenth-century German philosopher and poet who becomes obsessed with an unattractive twelve-year-old girl.

I fell in love with The Blue Flower just as Fritz, later known as Novalis, did with Sophie.

However, the book's positive qualities are even more evident.

It is beautifully written, with an understated elegance that makes it perhaps more touching than one might anticipate.

Fitzgerald never forces you to like her characters; there is no sentimentality.

Yet, you still care deeply about the von Hardenburgs and Sophie because they are so strangely endearing.

How could you read this book and not want Bernhard as your younger brother?

If you approach it as a more conventional novel, you might be disappointed.

The narrative pace is quite unusual, and at times the focus seems odd.

Most novelists would struggle to maintain the reader's interest with chapters on salt-mining.

But somehow, Fitzgerald makes it work.

The descriptions are minimal, yet she manages to evoke an entire society in a single sentence more effectively than most writers could in a whole chapter.

A. S. Byatt asks, "How does she do it?" Well, I don't know.

But as someone interested in writing, I'm certain I'll find myself re-reading this book, hoping to understand its enigma a little better.

I believe any aspiring writer could benefit from The Blue Flower.

Not only is it a rewarding novel in its own right, but it also proves that you don't need long-winded descriptions to convey settings and characters.

Or, indeed, to make the reader feel so inexplicably attached to your characters that the Afterword leaves them feeling devastated.

This is a truly sad story that revolves around a doomed love and short lives. However, it falls a bit flat if the central premise, which is the love story, doesn't quite work.

Penelope Fitzgerald was an exceptionally gifted writer. She had the remarkable ability to create something memorable out of very little and in the most unlikely of circumstances. With "The Bookshop", she crafted a captivating story about a middle-aged woman who dares to start a bookshop in a disused and damp building in a small English rural town, facing formidable opposition. Here, in "The Blue Flower", she attempts something even more ambitious. She endeavors to bring to life the noble passion of a real-life historical figure, Fritz von Hardenberg, also known as the philosopher poet Novalis, in late eighteenth-century Germany.

As a young undergraduate, von Hardenberg meets and promptly falls in love with Sophie, a sickly 12-year-old girl who unfortunately succumbs to consumption soon after. Novalis himself survives for only a few more years. The story is told with great authenticity, delving into the domestic lives of several families, the frustrations of key characters, the economics of the region, and the high mortality rate during that time.

My edition features a portrait of a young girl in a reflective pose on the cover. It is one of my favorites. The painting, "Portrait of Jeanne de Bauer" by Fernand Khnopff, captures a young girl's innocence, perhaps her sadness, and even resignation. In the story, Sophie barely enters her own limited society before she begins to withdraw from it as her illness progresses. Perhaps Fritz sees in her his blue flower, something frail yet pure, unworldly yet enchanting. Symbolically, the search for the blue flower represents the pursuit of the unreachable. However, it becomes a problem if the unreachable is also the unknowable or, at best, the intangible. Fritz's search proves unfulfilling for him in any real sense, and sadly, for us as well. The story gains added poignancy because Fritz completely fails to see that there is someone else who loves him, someone who is objectively a far more sensible match, but it is not meant to be.

"The Blue Flower" does, nevertheless, leave an afterimage on my cerebral retina. This is because of the striking world that Fitzgerald creates, filled with beautifully written practical details of rural life, especially regarding the responsibilities of the family and the limitations within which people live (and often, not for very long). Von Hardenberg epitomizes a central dichotomy: a poet and philosopher who, despite his artistic and intellectual pursuits, understands the financial necessity and diligently applies himself to become a revenue collector from the salt mines.

Penelope Fitzgerald's biographer, Hermione Lee, in "Penelope Fitzgerald: A Life", wrote a depressingly brilliant appreciation of "The Blue Flower" in the Independent on 1 November 2013. In it, she lauds the work as Fitzgerald's masterpiece. She makes a compelling case, but I remain unpersuaded. Perhaps the fact that this book has elicited such widely varied reactions from Goodreads reviewers suggests that the term "masterpiece" can be as elusive as the blue flower itself.

This was an overgrown novella. In my opinion, Dostoevsky could have done more justice to this theme. It reminds me of "The Idiot" in some aspects, perhaps the girl's innocence and false maturity. The thing is, if I'm going to read about a man's infatuation (which can hardly be called love, can it?) with a 12-year-old girl, which is pedophilia in thought if not in action, I want that aspect to be explored. Obviously, I wasn't going to get the depth of Nabokov's disgustingly wonderful "Lolita". But this novella was just too flimsy. References to poets, philosophers, and the concept of maya didn't do it for me.

I gave it two stars because it was just okay. I added an extra half a star for the attempt at tackling a grand theme, even if ultimately it didn't lead anywhere. It seems that the author had good intentions but failed to fully develop the story and explore the complex issues at hand. Maybe with more depth and a more thorough examination of the man's feelings and the consequences of his actions, this could have been a more engaging and thought-provoking read. As it stands, it's a somewhat disappointing effort.

A true story that dates back to the 18th century. There was a poet during that time who fell deeply in love with a rather plain gal. It's a tale of inexplicable love, much like the kind that could be directed at this novel. However, as time went on, the romanticism that once filled their relationship seemed to turn into tedium. *gahs* It's interesting to think about how love can change and evolve over time. Maybe the initial excitement and passion just couldn't be sustained. Or perhaps there were other factors at play that led to this shift. Either way, it serves as a reminder that love is a complex and often unpredictable emotion.

Disjointed writing and storytelling often make this book a challenge to follow.

The emotional distance maintained between the reader and the characters results in the former having very little concern for the latter.

Although there is a storyline present, it is too simplistic and fragmented to engage the reader intellectually or emotionally.

I am left wondering what Fitzgerald aimed to achieve by recounting the story of this man, who was apparently a respected and influential writer in his era, and his family who resided in Germany during the late 1700s/early 1800s.

Upon completing the novel, I feel I have gained no significant knowledge about him, his writing, or his beliefs. The afterward that details the deaths of some of the main characters fails to move me, aside from a vague sense of sadness that anyone's passing, even that of fictional characters, is unfortunate. This is not a positive sign considering I have spent 225 pages with them.

However, Fitzgerald's writing voice does possess a generous amount of wit, which, along with the occasional interesting detail about the daily life of that time, at least alleviates the monotony of the rest of the novel.