This is one of the most thoroughly engaging novels I have ever read.

Just like in the best poetry, there are no excess words here. However, the descriptive detail is so vivid that it transports the reader straight to 18th century Saxony.

If you blink, you will surely miss a detail that tells of the narrative, scene, or character. This is because every single line is a revelation of these essential elements of a world that has long since passed away.

'The Blue Flower' not only rewards attention and reader involvement with a great story but also poses questions that cannot be answered, which are the best kind.

As Penelope Fitzgerald writes, Christiane Wilhelmine Sophie is the embodiment, albeit barely, of delight and gratitude in life. If she was truly like the character Fitzgerald so beautifully evokes, it's no wonder Novalis never got over losing her.

Every character in the novel is absurd in their own unique way. But Fitzgerald's brilliant depictions, along with Sophie's ability to laugh at herself as well as others, which is a rare trait, remind us that being absurd is an inherent part of being human.

It is entirely possible that I cannot be trusted with great literature. The story seemed to take an eternity to unfold. For three-fourths of the book, it felt rather stilted. It was only until I somehow managed to get a feel for the brevity of the author's phrasing that things started to make a bit more sense.

There were so many words in some other language, perhaps Dutch or German, that at times I couldn't keep track of who or what was being referenced. This meant that I spent the majority of the book simply trying to figure out just what on earth was happening.

I know absolutely nothing about this Novalis, but I have formed an opinion of him as a selfless jerk. However, maybe the way he was portrayed was supposed to be funny in a way that, just like with Jane Austen, I still don't quite get.

Nonetheless, I can appreciate the economy of words in this work, which is the very reason that I gave it two stars instead of one. It's a strange and somewhat confusing read, but there are still glimmers of something interesting within its pages.

After reading the Booker-winning Offshore, I made up my mind to read this other award-winning book.

The Blue Flower, to me, represents what we yearn for in romance, something that we long for but is mostly unachievable.

The story is loosely based on the romantic German poet Novalis. He falls in love with Sophie, a 12-year-old girl, and becomes completely infatuated. Don't worry, it's not an early Lolita. This historical novel features some excellent characterizations. The story is a mix of funny, sad, poignant, and bemusing elements, especially when it comes to Fritz's obsession with this sickly girl.

Fritz is a student studying philosophy and eventually follows in his father's footsteps as a tax collector for salt. His father has a large family, and although they are nobility, they are poor nobility. The story chronicles the courtship and then Sophie's illness and treatments. I particularly liked Bernhardt, Fritz's younger brother, who was a bit of a rebel with a sharp tongue. I think Fitzgerald has done a great job of capturing the historical context, with the French Revolution in the background and the day-to-day life depicted beautifully. It's well worth a read if you're a Fitzgerald fan.

Overall, The Blue Flower offers a unique and engaging look at love, obsession, and historical context. It's a book that will stay with you long after you've turned the last page.

I have little knowledge of poetry, and Novalis was just a name to me, studied briefly at school a hundred years ago.

However, after reading this beautiful, very entertaining and very sad novel, he will always be a dear character to me.

Starting from the letters and diaries left by him, by his family, by his child fiancée, and from the official and private documents kept in the archives, Penelope Fitzgerald constructs an eighteenth-century novel that echoes the tone of the great Thackeray, humorous and moving at the same time; and unfolds around the characters suggestive scenes similar to those of Kubrick's Barry Lindon: the candlelit evenings, in the rustic schloss of Saxony, where the echo of the French Revolution arrives, leaving the provincials dismayed.

These are sometimes inappropriate and funny scenes, and sometimes of great beauty and poetry, made authentic by a whole world of vivid details: the goose feathers, the miniatures, the smoked herrings, the inns, the carriages and horses, the cackling geese in the yard, the bread soup and the cabbage soup, the arrack, the laudanum and the salts, the barrels of vinegar for pickling, the harpsichord ordered from Leipzig, the hospitals, the three annual laundry days, the tutors, the friars, the mills, the smoky breweries for the students of Jena, which were the cradle of Romanticism.

And among these scenes, two families meet, the impoverished aristocratic Hardenbergs and the wealthy merchant Rockenthien, the young mining engineer Fritz (the future Novalis) who writes strange verses and who everyone considers a bit crazy, the little Sophie who can do nothing but charm with her joyful innocence, the lightning strike that involves them all and then the tragedy that despairs them.

I will read all the novels of this great writer, little known in Italy.

Historical Fiction is simply not the appropriate category to pigeonhole this remarkable book. In fact, it defies easy categorization altogether. It is truly astonishing how Fitzgerald manages to convey so much with such economy of words. With just a few strokes, he is able to instantly transport the reader to a specific time, place, and mood. In contrast, some other authors might have required three times the number of pages to express the same amount of content. Moreover, the book is also very comical and sly in certain parts. The character of Bernhard, that cheeky little devil, is particularly endearing. However, despite all its charms, there is still one aspect that eludes me. I just don't know why Novalis loved Sophie. I'm not even sure if he truly did.

I had to power through this for class,

but this book was just not my cup of tea.

I found it to be quite slow-paced and mostly boring.

I had no interest in the storyline whatsoever.

In my opinion, the characters were quite dull and lacked any real depth or charisma.

I was really hoping to get more in-depth and detailed information about The Blue Flower,

but unfortunately, this was not the case at all.

The information provided in the book was pretty superficial and not at all insightful.

It felt like I was just skimming the surface and not really getting to the heart of the matter.

Overall, I was quite disappointed with this book and would not recommend it to others.

Oh dear. It's truly awful. Just dreadful. What makes it even worse is that I adored my first Penelope Fitzgerald book, Offshore, last summer (you can see my review HERE), and AS Byatt called this one a "masterpiece". I'm completely baffled.

The prose is extremely plodding, especially considering it's supposed to be about a poet. It's just short, banal sentences one after another. I found it very hard to imagine, care about, or believe in the characters, setting, and plot, even though it's based on real life. I forced myself to finish it, thinking there must be something worthwhile coming up. But I failed to find it. I was just bored and irritated.

True Story

This is a fictionalized account, but it seems to be fairly close to the facts. Some of the diary entries quoted here are genuine historical documents.

It's set in a noble, pious, Protestant family in Germany in the late 1700s. It's about Fritz, who later became a famous romantic and philosophical poet known as Novalis. This book covers the slightly earlier period, around the time he fell in love at first sight with twelve-year-old Sophie. Given the period, it's all very chaste, nothing like Lolita (see my review HERE), which is a much more disturbing book but beautifully written and thus very powerful and compelling. So no, nothing like that here.

Plot

Fritz attends university in several towns, studying a variety of subjects and dabbling in philosophy. He meets many different people.

After that, he trains to be a salt mine inspector like his father. He meets more people, including Sophie's family. He is welcomed and spends a lot of time there. It's another large family, but completely different from his own. Goethe makes an appearance and gives his opinion on the relationship.

The French Revolution is going on in the background. Some people are slightly fearful, while others vaguely support it.

The brief afterword made me laugh. It was like a satirical summary of a typical operatic plot. Even less appropriately, it reminded me of a scene in the comedy sci-fi show, Red Dwarf: Holly to Lister, \\"They're all dead. Everybody's dead, Dave.\\"

The Blue Flower

What a pretty image. It's the title of a novel Fritz starts to write about "unspeakable longings" for such a flower.

This may be another reason the book didn't "wow" me. Blue is my favorite color, but I wasn't sufficiently awed by the exoticism of a blue flower. It may not be the most common hue, but blue flowers have always been prominent in my life. In spring, I walk to the beech woods to see carpets of bluebells. My mother pots blue hyacinths every year to give to family and friends. My granny grew delphiniums and hydrangeas in abundance, and in recent years, nearby fields are filled with linseed flowers (which are much nicer than the garish yellow of rapeseed).

He first reads his poem to Karoline, saying he wrote it for her. Then he reads it to Sophie, as if it's for her. The "test" for both is to understand its deep meaning.

Sophie is puzzled: "'Do you not know yourself?' she asked doubtfully." To which he says "Sometimes I think I do".

The two people who are said to understand it are Sophie's doctor and Fritz's younger, precocious brother, The Bernhard. But I can't say I warmed to The Bernhard's interpretation.

The Christmas Reckoning

This was an intriguing and slightly alarming idea.

"The mother spoke to her daughters, the father to his sons, and told them first what had displeased, then what had pleased most in their conduct during the past year. In addition, the young Hardenbergs were asked to make a clean breast of anything that they should have told their parents, but had not."

Believability and Inconsistency

Love is not rational, and sudden infatuation even less so. But if a poet can't convey the reasons for his passion for a child who is not especially pretty, intelligent, or interested, how can the reader believe it?

Fritz's family is large and noble but poor (nobility are banned from many jobs). Later on, money seems less tight, but it's not clear how or why.

He was a sickly and apparently backward child, but then he turned into a genius, though there's little evidence of that in his poetry or vague philosophical musings. He does call Sophie "my Philosophy" and also "my spirit's guide".

We're told that as the child of a large family, he keeps a diary rather than talk to himself. Then ten pages later, he's talking to himself a lot.

The number and ages of children don't add up. Fritz's mother is said to have given birth eight times and later to have eleven children, but there's no mention of twins, and The Bernhard starts off aged six but is almost adult a few short years later.

Quotes

Despite the generally leaden prose, there are some nice turns of phrase:

•\\tA shy matriarch “seeming of less substance even than the shadows... no more than a shred.”

•\\t“a short, unfinished young man.”

•\\t“How heavy a child is when it gives up responsibility.”

•\\tA man still feels his older brother “appeared to have been sent into the world primarily to irritate him”.

•\\t“Earth and air were often indistinguishable in the autumn mist, and morning seemed to pass into afternoon without discernible mid-day.”

•\\t“Erasmus would... enroll in the school of forestry, a wholesome open-air life for which so far he had shown no inclination whatsoever.”

•\\t“Jollity is as relentless as piety.”

•\\t“If a story begins with finding, it must end with searching.”

•\\tAt the fair, “A fine young woman still, what a pity she has no affianced to treat her to a pig's nostril!”

•\\tMining “is not a violation of Nature's secrets, but a release.”

•\\tIn a music room, “the airy space faithfully carried every note, balanced it, and let it fall reluctantly.”

•\\t“the remorseless perseverance of the truly pleasure-loving.”

•\\t“Even in his garden-house, melancholy caught him by the sleeve.”

Nomenclature

A quirk that was unfamiliar to me was the naming. Sophie is often called Sophgen, Fritz's parents are called the Freifrau and the Freiherr, and many others are referred to as "the [something]". When many of the characters are thin, this extra veil doesn't help.

Fitzgerald's work once again showcases her inimitable magic. In her writing, it is not uncommon for the'supporting' characters to come alive and shine as brightly as the'main' characters. The Blue Flower is perhaps the best example of this, with characters entering at an angle and diverting our sympathies. Hermione Lee, in her preface, quotes Fitzgerald as saying: 'I am drawn to people who seem to have been born defeated or even profoundly lost.' The novel's heart lies with these outsiders, just as much as it does with Fritz, the protagonist, who would soon become the famed polymath, poet, and philosopher Novalis, one of the most important figures in German literature.

When reading Fitzgerald's historical novels, one never becomes conscious of being immersed in a work within a subgenre. The critical success of The Blue Flower, and that of The Beginning of Spring, is due in part to their ability to bring together seemingly discordant elements to a harmonious effect. There is a sensitivity to the time and place, while at the same time a feeling of freshness and immediacy. The narrative is never bogged down by historical detail or sensory overload. In fact, the writing is so polished that there is nothing extraneous whatsoever. It is an odd trick to pull off, requiring cleverness and style, and Fitzgerald accomplishes it masterfully. No matter where she is or what she is writing about, her voice is completely her own, and she trusts her reader.

The Blue Flower is a work that is subtle, idiosyncratic, elegant, funny, and moving. It does everything, making it a truly remarkable piece of literature.

This is a truly strange and unpredictable book that deliberately maintains a certain distance from the reader.

However, once you manage to enter its unique rhythms and have the main characters firmly established in your mind, there is something truly wonderful about it.

It is a book filled with moments and glimpses, where nothing is ever fully explained.

It ends on a dash rather than a period, which is entirely appropriate as the entire book is elliptical in nature.

Composed of fifty-five brief chapters, most of which conclude with a stylish and often humorous phrase, the book is rich in humour, much of it being subtle and wry.

It is definitely a book that can be reread, probably with even more pleasure than the initial reading.

The subject of the book is the poet-philosopher Friedrich von Hardenberg, who later becomes associated with German Romanticism under the pen-name Novalis.

Friedrich, or Fritz as he is called, has just left university when the novel begins.

It is during his apprenticeship in salt mining that he meets the young Sophie, who becomes the bemusing and bemused subject of his worshipful adoration.

At first, this seems like a rather unusual love story as a young man falls in love with an unworthy person.

Both his friends and family are entirely sceptical of the 12-year-old and rather undistinguished young girl.

But over time, Sophie's charms, which are always quite mysterious, start to work on those around her.

I suppose the idea of "the blue flower" is all very philosophical and metaphysical, but most of the story's material concerns itself with the most grounded and commonplace of details.

This novel was puzzlingly overpraised, and I'm not entirely sure why.

It is, in fact, rather empty, cold, and mean-spirited. It fails to allow us to sympathize with, or even understand, the characters.

It purports to tell the story of the German Romantic poet Novalis's infatuation with a 12-year-old girl, yet it doesn't do much to help us make sense of this strange situation.

One has to wonder what the narrative is actually aiming toward. At times, it seems to simply want to mock and diminish its characters or perhaps to display a minute knowledge of the period.

But is that really enough? Does it offer any deeper insights or emotions that would make it a truly great work?

These are the questions that keep萦绕 in my mind as I try to grapple with this novel that has received such excessive praise.

Maybe I'm missing something, but as it stands, I'm left feeling rather disappointed and unfulfilled.

Could not get through it.

This simple statement holds a certain amount of frustration and disappointment. It implies that there was an attempt to do something, perhaps to complete a task, have a conversation, or reach a goal, but for some reason, it was not possible.

Maybe there were obstacles in the way, such as technical difficulties, lack of knowledge or skills, or external factors that interfered. It could also be that the person simply did not have enough perseverance or determination to push through and find a solution.

Whatever the reason, not being able to get through it can leave a person feeling defeated and discouraged. However, it is important to remember that setbacks and failures are a natural part of life. Instead of giving up, it is often beneficial to take a step back, analyze the situation, and look for alternative ways to approach the problem.

With a positive attitude and a willingness to learn and adapt, it is possible to overcome even the most difficult challenges and eventually get through it.

I feel The Blue Flower, much like the ‘historical’ part of Ali Smith’s How to Be Both, isn't truly what is called historical fiction.

Both authors utilize the framework of a real person's life to explore their themes. The characterization, often through the portrayal of thoughts, is vivid. However, the plot is not the main focus. In The Blue Flower, the details seem accurate (as far as I can tell), and the research must have been extensive, yet it is presented in a light manner.

Due to its style, I felt a certain distance, which might have been intentional. The style differs from The Bookshop (the only other Fitzgerald novel I've read so far), except that her humor is concise and easily overlooked, as is her deflection. Each short chapter concludes with a line or thought that compels me to read on, yet at times I had no difficulty putting the book down at the start of a consecutive chapter.

The book's opening is memorable, with a visitor's perspective of the family on clothes-washing day and then the rescue of a brother by the main character Fritz (who will later be known as the poet Novalis). After just a few short chapters, we are thrust back in time. By the time the book returns to the ‘beginning’, I had assumed we were done with that time and place and with the visitor, and I had been wondering about their significance. I wish we had returned sooner as, when we do, it feels a bit awkward and confusing.

The two mothers are fertile but inactive. A niece and (older) sisters are the caretakers. The men impose their own interpretations on the women. The women mostly keep their thoughts to themselves. When one speaks up, she asks a question: Do you know my sister? (She doesn't ask this of Fritz, but it could apply to him too.) The question remains unanswered, but the reader knows.

Fritz's story of the blue flower is read twice by him, to two different females, and then repeated in part and with slight differences a third time as a brother's reimagining. The story of the blue flower now seems to belong easily to someone else. The dreamer doesn't understand the meaning of his dream and is sadly disappointed when another doesn't know either. He silently judges this lack in one but excuses the same in another. Once again, the woman is burdened with the man's expectation, and I began to believe that this is Fitzgerald's main theme.

The dialogue between the brothers and their sister Sidonie (probably my favorite character) is delightful. I have a soft spot for that kind of thing as it reminds me of my own siblings. I've seen such diverse opinions of this book, and I feel so ambivalent towards it that I'm forced to believe it's one of those books where you get out of it what you already have.