Lichtenberg and the Little Flower Girl

Rating:
Summary: For those who don't measure historical novels by the pound.
Review: Written in 1993 but just recently translated into English by the author's son, this final novel by Gert Hofmann reflects his background as a playwright and radio scriptwriter. Dialogue, along with the main character's inner thoughts, constitutes virtually the entire novel. Stripped-to-the-bone and lacking the descriptive paragraphs one would expect in an historical novel set in late eighteenth century Gottingen, the narrative is told in a simple style and in short sentences reminiscent of fables and children's stories. The humor and the observations about life, however, are decidedly adult, and the insights into the strange life of Georg Lichtenberg, a real mathematician-astronomer-physicist, give a broad picture of scientific investigations and social life in Germany during the period.

A hunchback, who can not leave his house without being pestered by people who want to touch his hump "for good luck," Lichtenberg is something of a dandy, affecting silver buttons and multicolored wigs. Always fascinated by new observations, especially his own, he carries a "waste book," in which he records his passing thoughts and dozens of aphorisms: "If a man has webbed fingers, he is unlikely to make a great flautist." On one of his walks, he buys flowers from a beautiful thirteen-year-old child, Maria Dorothea Stechard, who eventually moves in with him, becoming his student, then his housekeeper, and finally his mistress. Keeping "the little Stechardess" hidden from his friends for many years, he shares his scientific experiments on electricity, hot air ballooning, and phrenology with her, feeling "doubly near" her when he can share both his love and his science.

Reminiscent in some ways of Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower, this slim novel is far less descriptive, a story reduced to its absolute essentials with not an extra word. Understated in the extreme, it is a peculiar story of seduction, often witty and often discomforting, giving a unique view of late eighteenth century academic, intellectual, and social life. Mary Whipple

Rating:
Summary: For those who don't measure historical novels by the pound.
Review: Written in 1993 but just recently translated into English by the author's son, this final novel by Gert Hofmann reflects his background as a playwright and radio scriptwriter. Dialogue, along with the main character's inner thoughts, constitutes virtually the entire novel. Stripped-to-the-bone and lacking the descriptive paragraphs one would expect in an historical novel set in late eighteenth century Gottingen, the narrative is told in a simple style and in short sentences reminiscent of fables and children's stories. The humor and the observations about life, however, are decidedly adult, and the insights into the strange life of Georg Lichtenberg, a real mathematician-astronomer-physicist, give a broad picture of scientific investigations and social life in Germany during the period.

A hunchback, who can not leave his house without being pestered by people who want to touch his hump "for good luck," Lichtenberg is something of a dandy, affecting silver buttons and multicolored wigs. Always fascinated by new observations, especially his own, he carries a "waste book," in which he records his passing thoughts and dozens of aphorisms: "If a man has webbed fingers, he is unlikely to make a great flautist." On one of his walks, he buys flowers from a beautiful thirteen-year-old child, Maria Dorothea Stechard, who eventually moves in with him, becoming his student, then his housekeeper, and finally his mistress. Keeping "the little Stechardess" hidden from his friends for many years, he shares his scientific experiments on electricity, hot air ballooning, and phrenology with her, feeling "doubly near" her when he can share both his love and his science.

Reminiscent in some ways of Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower, this slim novel is far less descriptive, a story reduced to its absolute essentials with not an extra word. Understated in the extreme, it is a peculiar story of seduction, often witty and often discomforting, giving a unique view of late eighteenth century academic, intellectual, and social life. Mary Whipple