Spellbinding, expertly wrought, and deeply strange, this historical novel about the poet Novalis in his youth is truly a remarkable piece of work.

The author has managed to bring to life the world of Novalis with such vividness and detail that it feels as if we are right there with him, experiencing his joys, sorrows, and struggles.

The story is filled with complex characters, mysterious events, and a sense of otherworldliness that keeps the reader hooked from beginning to end.

It is truly amazing that this novel somehow became a bestseller, given its unusual subject matter and unique style.

But perhaps that is precisely what makes it so appealing - its ability to transport us to a different time and place, and to introduce us to a fascinating and little-known figure in literary history.

Overall, this is a must-read for anyone who loves historical fiction, or who is simply looking for a thought-provoking and engaging read.

4.5 stars.

3.5 stars.

This is my third Penelope Fitzgerald. The book centers on the early life of Fritz von Hardenberg, better known as the German Romantic poet Novalis. It especially delves into his infatuation with 12-year-old Sophie, whom he meets during an official visit as an apprentice engineer to the household of her stepfather, von Rochenthien.

The book starts by giving us a closer look at the Hardenberg family. There's the weak and easily-distracted mother, the capable elder sister, and the boisterous, independent-minded youngest brother. The father appears a bit later. A born-again Christian and a member of the nobility without funds or connections, von Hardenberg rules the household with an iron fist. He's not much loved but not hated either. He's offended by the French Revolution and finds the idea of a civil suit against the King of France by his own people scandalous, so he forbids newspapers at home.
Young Fritz is completely different. He's amiable and sociable, a poet and philosopher at heart, with a love for nature and ideas. He's not the type to become a Salt Mine Inspector, the profession his father intends for him. Interestingly, when the time comes, he takes it in his stride and becomes a model apprentice without sacrificing his love for poetry or philosophy. While an apprentice, he gets to know his tutor's niece, Karoline, and it seems an idyll is on the cards. Karoline is an intelligent and tactful woman who can appreciate Fritz's poetry and personality. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. During a visit to the Rockenthiens, something happens to Fritz that he can't explain or resist. In fact, the apparition he encounters is so intense that he tells his tutor, 'Something happened to me,' looking dazed and disoriented.
The apparition is 12-year-old Sophie – a child who doesn't seem to have unusual intelligence or exquisite beauty. Yet, Fritz spends the rest of his time at the Rockenthiens' trying to win her attention and hopefully a promise that she's not indifferent to him. He'll come back to the house again and again, hoping to earn Sophie's love and later, as she gets older, her agreement to marry him.
It's a mystery to me why Sophie inspires so much love (or is 'infatuation' the right word here?) not only from Fritz but from another Hardenberg brother as well, even though this brother initially tries to dissuade Fritz from his folly. She seems to have a command over men that the novel, unfortunately, doesn't shed light on. This was the aspect of the book that I found disappointing. What is it about Sophie that makes young men fall in love head over heels with her? She can hardly write, she doesn't seem to have intellectual interests, or indeed anything to share with Fritz. Fritz himself can't understand what's the matter with him.
He says, "I can't comprehend her, I can't get the measure of her. I love something that I do not understand. She has got me, but she is not at all sure she wants me."
It might help here if we looked at the romantic ideal of women. Fritz says, "I think, indeed, that women have a better grasp on the whole business of life than we men have. We are morally better than they are, but they can reach perfection, we can't. And that is in spite of the fact that they particularise, we generalise."
The revered Goethe, who pays a visit to young Sophie during her stay at Jena, says to Fritz's brother, "I think I know what you wanted to ask me. You wonder whether Fräulein von Kühn, when she is restored to health, will be a true source of happiness to your bother. Probably you feel that there is not an equality of understanding between them. But rest assured, it is not her understanding that we love in a young girl. We love her beauty, her innocence, her trust in us, her airs and graces, her God knows what – but we don't love her for her understanding – nor, I am sure, does Hardenberg."
I would have loved if the book had explored this theme in more depth. Is this irresistible attraction that Fritz experiences love or something else? How might it play out in the context of marriage and a long co-habitation? Might Fritz regret allowing himself to be carried away by his feelings? Of course, that's a complex question for a Romantic, for whom feelings are guides to a more fundamental reality. I really wish Fitzgerald had used this book to explore these questions.
What we do get is a vivid (and, I believe, accurate) depiction of the intellectual atmosphere in Germany (which was at the time divided into several principalities). The famed Jena, a university town where the better-known Romantics resided, is beautifully portrayed. We get to know a lot about student life, which wasn't much different then from what it is today: a lot of drunkenness and intellectual curiosity, despicable lodgings, and a fervour for life that is the hallmark of youth. The Schlegels make an appearance, as does Fichte's philosophy. Fitzgerald is at her best here: filling in the characters and conveying a sense of life as it must have been at the turn of the century (this is late 1700s). Strong female characters (Karoline, Sophie's elder sister) provide the counterpoint to Sophie. It's not impossible that Fitzgerald did want to write the feminist novel, not by proclaiming a thesis about Sophie (and Fritz's infatuation), but through tacit comparison with the other female characters.

I have a deep affection for the droll humor and the remarkable use of language that is present in this historical novel.

The way the author weaves words together to create a unique and engaging narrative is truly captivating.

However, I must admit that I find myself somewhat confused by the characters. Their actions and motives are not always clear, leaving me with a sense of uncertainty.

I am also left wondering what the author is truly trying to convey through this story.

Perhaps there are hidden meanings and themes that I have not yet fully grasped.

Despite these uncertainties, I still find myself drawn to the novel, eager to uncover its mysteries and gain a better understanding of its overall message.

I believe that with further exploration and analysis, I will be able to appreciate the novel even more and unlock the true essence of what the author is trying to communicate.

Do not expect a typical novel and plot.

I almost gave up on this book at first, due to my own episodic reading. However, when I finally sat down and read through it, I was truly engaged.

Its episodic nature does not create one single story, but rather many little stories. In these stories, the numerous characters interact with each other.

By the end of the book, those characters had charmed me completely.

I also have a great love for the witty asides from the narrator, the small tastes of romantic philosophy and poetry, and Fitzgerald's remarkable ability to convey so much with so few words.

This book is truly a fascinating excursion into romantic-era Germany, offering a unique and engaging perspective on that time period.

It is a book that may not be for everyone, but for those who are willing to take the time to explore its pages, it can be a rewarding and enjoyable read.

This Booker Prize winner offers a truly fascinating study of life in late 17th-century Germany. There is one particularly hilarious anecdote that concerns washing clothes. Most of the upper-class families at that time did the washing every 3 months. Interestingly, one man in a household owned as many as 69 shirts. Meanwhile, our protagonist, Fridrich's family, did the wash only once a year. And there were 14 children in the family, along with numerous servants. It's important to note that this was before washers and dryers were invented. Just imagining this blows my mind, and yet that isn't even the main focus of the book.

The book is a biographical snapshot of perhaps the most crucial 3 years in the life and love of the poet known as Novalis. He grew up in such a large family that children weren't always closely watched, and diseases of the time spread unchecked. He wasn't suited for much else other than poetry, but was compelled to manage a salt mine as it was considered acceptable employment for impoverished royalty. However, the REAL story revolves around the 12-year-old girl he fell in love with. If you read The Blue Flower, you'll be left gasping at the ending...

This book should undoubtedly be required reading for high schools everywhere. It provides a unique and engaging look into a bygone era, as well as a touching and unexpected love story. Students would benefit greatly from reading this and exploring the themes and ideas presented within its pages.

Update: Reading this Guardian review just added to my appreciation of Penelope Fitzgerald's masterful writing.

In particular, the comments section brought many interesting aspects to the forefront. For instance, the way Fitzgerald purposefully chooses not to write certain scenes or descriptions, allowing the reader to fill in the blanks. Strangely enough, those blanks are vividly filled by the readers' imaginations. The line that ends the novel itself (no spoilers) —

“Best of brothers — .”

— is only a fragment and not even spoken by the protagonist. Yet, it manages to convey so much about his emotional state.

Everything about this novel is so deliberate and worthy of close analysis. There is nothing accidental. I truly wish I had been required to read this in university. It would have made an excellent book for in-class analysis and the subject of an essay.

==========================

\\"A child of not quite ten years old, he insists that the body is not flesh, but the same stuff as the soul.\\"

This novel is everything that historical fiction should be. It is profound, focused, engaging, challenging without being overly difficult, and informative without being dry. Context is provided freely and seamlessly woven into the story, not feeling too much like a textbook. Moreover, it is a meaningful character study, offering a deep look into a remarkable person and his all-consuming love for an unremarkable girl. Love knows no bounds for this poet with wildly romantic ideas. I was so captivated by Fritz and his vivacity, and the way he felt everything so deeply. This was effortlessly emulated by a talented writer. Especially after reading the cumbersome Wolf Hall, this was a refreshing reminder that historical fiction doesn't have to be so heavy to tell a stunning and grand story and bring a complex and intelligent historical figure to life. The Blue Flower achieved something beautiful and simple, and I felt a strong attachment to all of the characters, not just the protagonist (the mischievous Bernhard being a particular favorite of mine).

As an aside, Chapter 24, \\"The Brothers\\", was hilarious and my absolute favorite.

How dare I refuse to give this book that was named Book of the Year by nineteen British newspapers in 1995 and won the National Book Critics Circle Award in 1997 anything less than a five?

NYT reviewer Michael Hofmann wrote of The Blue Flower: It is an interrogation of life, love, purpose, experience and horizons, which has found its perfect vehicle in a few years from the pitifully short life of a German youth about to become a great poet -- one living in a period of intellectual and political upheaval, when even the prevailing medical orthodoxy ''held that to be alive was not a natural state.” -In, Nonsense Is Only Another Language: Penelope Fitzgerald uses fiction to examine an 18th-century German poet and his doomed love for a 12-year-old girl.

Yet, for me The Blue Flower is at best a 3.75.

Why? Because I loved Fitzgerald’s earlier work, The Bookshop and because Kleist’s editor and publisher Ludwig Tieck (1773-18530), - a romantic writer who had outlived Novalis and virtually the rest of his entire generation describes the The Blue Flower’s female love interest, the real Christiane Wilhelmine Sophie von Kühn as a girl who "gave an impression... so gracious and spiritually lovely--we must call [it] superearthly or heavenly, while through this radiant and almost transparent countenance of hers we would be struck with the fear that it was too tender and delicately woven for this life, that it was death or immortality which looked at us so penetratingly from those shining eyes".

That’s a lively and compelling enough entourage to encourage my readership of The Blue Flower, but the loving of it? That’d take more, something more like a sci-fi setting for William Shakespeare's The Tempest?

That can actually work, be fun, and be fun to talk about in the bar afterward over drinks.

The Blue Flower on the other hand is NO FUN. The author sets 'em up and knocks 'em down (just as life did) but really, how funny is that?

If you’re not sure, today there are a couple copies available on goodreads swap, or maybe my little screenplay below will tell you how it goes? (If I get ambitious I'll work up an animation of this with stick figures acting out all the parts, but til then this is all I've got to offer:

The Cast:

Fritz aka Friedrich von Hardenberg (1772-1801): He will later take the pen-name Novalis and become a German Romantic poet of lasting repute. Here he is another of Fitzgerald’s innocents who destroys all around him through his naivete and romanticism or perhaps he is just an unfortunate disease vector.

Sophie, the love interest of Fritz (& later also his brother, Erasmus) described either as a somewhat stupid, unexceptional young girl who is not yet a lady or as superearthly/heavenly. Take your pick. It doesn’t matter.

The Bernhard Fritz and Erasmus’s little brother, no longer a toddler.

Christoph Fritz and Erasmus’s littlest brother who doesn’t thrive.

Gunther Sophie’s little brother who has the household’s cough but is described by Fritz as stronger “by far than our Christoph” his own little brother.

George Sophie’s older little brother, no longer a toddler.

The Doctor -Who "had never had the chance to hear the opening of \\"The Blue Flower\\" but if he had done so he could have said immediately what he thought it meant".

The Mandelsloh Sophie’s Companion, a mature, attractive married woman.

Sophie's Tutor A man who could teach her nothing.

TB: Tabes mesenterica -"Tuberculosis of the mesenteric and retroperitoneal lymph nodes. Sometimes manifests as Tuberculosis of lymph glands inside the abdomen. I read somewhere that it was thought to be an illness of children caused by drinking milk from cows infected with TB. (Now uncommon as milk is pasteurized ) ".

Act One, Scene One: Germany late 1700s at Weißenfels in Saxony on the River Saale

Fritz is chasing The Bernhard among some barges moored together.

Fritz: "Bernhard!" Catching hold of the child’s wrist as he falls between two barges being forced together by the waters.

The Bernhard: "I will never come back, Let me go, let me die!"

Fritz: "Make an effort! Do you want to drown?"

The Berhard: “Would it matter if I did?”

Fritz: To audience while hauling his little brother into his arms, "How heavy a child is when it gives up responsibility".

Act One, Scene Two at Sophie’s House:

Fritz sees Sophie, falls in love. Sophie plays with her little brother, Gunther.

George: To Fritz, "Your horse is an old nag."

Gunther: coughs.

Fritz: To Sophie, ignoring George, “He smiles and coughs at us all alike, I'm flattered when my turn comes.“

Sophie: smiles at Gunther

Fritz: smiles at Sophie, “Sophie -be my guardian spirit”

Act Two, Scene One at Sophie’s House

Sophie: to Fritz & her companion, the Mandelsloh, "I have a pain in my left side, and that is not my own doing.” Laughs.

Fritz: smiles, departs room.

The Mandelsloh to Sophie: “He could have heard you!, do you want him to know you are sick?”

Sophie: “He took no notice... I laughed and so he did not notice it”.

Act Two, Scene Two in Sophie’s room. Everyone is there from Fritz and Sophie’s families as Sophie’s old tutor reads from Cicero. People laugh, dogs jump about and Sophie coughs. A doctor enters with his black bag.

Narrator: “The Doctor had never had the chance to hear the opening of The Blue Flower\\" but if he had done so he could have said immediately what he thought it meant”

Tutor: turning away from the assembled characters, to audience, visibly giving up, perhaps even shrugging “ I can’t continue... after all, these people were born for joy !“

Doctor : Examines Sophie ” She has TB. The most usual signs and symptoms are the appearance of a chronic, painless mass in the neck, which is persistent and usually grows with time. The mass is referred to as a \\"cold abscess\\", because there is no accompanying local color or warmth and the overlying skin acquires a violaceous (bluish-purple) color. Scrofula caused by tuberculosis is usually accompanied by other symptoms of the disease, such as fever, chills, malaise and weight loss. As the lesion progresses, the skin becomes adhered to the mass and may rupture, forming a sinus and an open wound."

The Bernhard: over the clamor in the room, to audience,. “Everyone else heard what I did, and yet none of them paid him serious attention.”

The Curtain Drops

Finale

The narrator's voice says: “They will nearly all die of TB, except The Bernhard, the water will get him first of all after Sophie.

The End.

Give me Shakespeare's tragi-comedy over Fitzgerald's romance any day, unless that is what this really is?

A short book that fails to endear its characters to the reader.

The descriptions, however, are the shining aspect. Consider, for instance, the four soups consumed in a single meal:

Beer, sugar, and eggs;
Rose-hips and onions;
Bread and cabbage-water;
Cows’ udders flavored with nutmeg.

These vivid depictions add a touch of intrigue and uniqueness to the narrative.

Despite the lack of emotional connection with the characters, the detailed descriptions of such unusual soups manage to hold the reader's attention.

They paint a picture that is both strange and captivating, making the book an interesting read, if not a particularly endearing one.

Perhaps it is in these descriptions that the true charm of the book lies, inviting the reader to explore a world that is at once familiar and yet full of unexpected surprises.

This book's charms are truly beyond description. It presents a tale of romance not from the erotic perspective, but from the literary and spiritual ones. It chronicles the intellectual growth of Novalis, a crucial figure in German Romanticism.

Unlike some dry, stuffy, or pantomime-like works that turn historical figures into convenient text-puppets, "The Blue Flower" is a delightful and engaging read. It is filled with humor, winning moments, surprises, and a touch of tragedy.

The plot may not be the main focus here, but the characters are truly immortal. They come alive on the pages, captivating the reader's imagination.

Discover "The Blue Flower" at Westminster Public Library today!

And if you're in search of new books to read, take advantage of our services, "What Do I Read Next". Our library staff is ready and waiting to create a personalized recommendation list just for you!

Don't miss out on the opportunity to explore the wonderful world of literature and find your next favorite read.

La estampa de una vida (Comentario, 2025)

In Penelope Fitzgerald's work, there is a narrative distance that I feel has a double-edged effect. On one hand, it brings clarity to the actions and makes it easily distinguishable the world she shows us. This allows the readers to have a clear understanding of the story and the events that unfold. On the other hand, it marks an emotional distance with the characters. In the case of the romantic poets, this does not quite correspond to the depth of sentiment that could be explored, especially when the theme is love. It seems that the emotional connection between the readers and the characters is not as strong as it could be.

This fictional biography is pleasant to read, and only time will tell if it is as forgettable as I suspect. However, there are a couple of powerful scenes in their placidity. The tranquility of a garden kiosk from where one can contemplate the sunset is truly beautiful. The intimacy of a kitchen where a text is read for the first time is also very touching. I believe I will cherish those moments, and when I read Novalis (who is the protagonist, for those who haven't read the description of the work) again, I will do so with eyes impregnated with Fitzgerald's vision. It shows how Fitzgerald's writing can have a lasting impact on the readers.

This is one of the characteristics of fiction. It modifies reality. It takes us to a different world, a world that is created by the author's imagination. And in this world, we can experience different emotions, learn new things, and gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

I thought that Penelope Fitzgerald’s novalised (geddit?) part-biography of the poet and philosopher Novalis would be a great help to me. It would assist in straightening out the Penelopes - Lively and Fitzgerald - and prevent me from constantly confusing Novalis and Nerval. Of course, Lively and Fitzgerald are virtually indistinguishable. Both are women who have achieved the remarkable feat of winning the Booker Prize. By an incredible coincidence, each is English and has just one “e” in her surname. It is also easy to understand how I have muddled the two male writers. After all, Gerard de Nerval was the pseudonym of Gerard Labrunie, who had the rather unusual habit of taking his lobster "Thibault" for walks around various bits of France. Meanwhile, Novalis was the nom-de-plume of Georg Philipp Friedrich Freiherr von Hardenberg, who was appointed Supernumerar Amtshauptman (which has something to do with salt) of his district in Germany. They seem so alike!

Just to further complicate matters, Fitzgerald and her non-subject Nerval share an unnerving physical resemblance. The picture shows them looking almost as if they could have been separated at birth. It's quite astonishing.

Now, what’s the book like? Well, it starts out well. The beginning is engaging and draws you in. However, as it progresses, it unfortunately gets a bit boring. The story follows the familiar pattern of a boy meeting an oddly mesmerising girl whom no one else likes much, and then he marries her. Penelope Whatsits can indeed write, but this particular work is not her best by any means. It has its moments, but overall, it fails to truly captivate and hold the reader's attention throughout.

The house's biyearly laundry tumbles out the windows in a chaotic mess.

Clothes of all colors and sizes flutter in the wind, as if they are trying to break free from their mundane existence.

The sight is both quirky and a little bit sad, as it reminds us of the passage of time and the inevitability of change.

The atmosphere is thick with a sense of melancholy, as if the house itself is mourning the loss of something precious.

As the laundry continues to spill out, it eventually lands in a puddle of cold water on the ground.

The water soaks into the fabric, adding a final touch of dampness and desolation to the scene.

It is a moment that is both strange and unforgettable, a snapshot of a life that is constantly in flux.