Annette Von Droste-Hulshoff
Biography of Annette Von Droste-Hulshoff
Annette von Droste-Hülshoff ( January 10, 1797 – May 25, 1848) was a 19th century German author, and one of the most important German poets.
She was born at the family seat castle Burg Hülshoff (now a part of Havixbeck) inside the Prince-Bishopric of Münster into an aristocratic, Catholic family of Westphalia. She was educated by private tutors and began to write as a child, but did not publish any of her work until she was forty years old. Among her best-known writings are the cycle of poems Das geistliche Jahr (The Spiritual Year) and the novella Die Judenbuche (The Jew's Beech).
Her early intellectual training was largely influenced by her cousin, Clemens August Freiherr von Droste zu Vischering, who, as archbishop of Cologne, became notorious for his extreme ultramontane views (see below). She received a wider liberal education than was common for aristocratic women of her time.
Despite her withdrawn and restricted life she corresponded with intellectual contemporaries such as the Brothers Grimm. As her health continually worsened, earning a living through her writing was never an option. Despite this, she took her literary work very seriously.
She was able to break from her circumstances during a trip to Lake Constance, originally only to visit relatives. From 1841 she stayed with her brother-in-law, Baron Joseph Maria Christoph von Lassberg at the Meersburg Castle. In 1837 she became friends with the author Levin Schücking, who, through her agency, became the librarian at the Meersburg Castle.
Annette von Droste-Hülshoff is considered the most gifted and original of German women poets. Her verse is strong and vigorous, but often unmusical, if not to say harsh; one looks in vain for a touch of sentimentality or melting sweetness in it. That this harshness in a way reflects her conditions as a woman in 19th century Germany can be seen in poems like "Am Turme" (http://www.wortblume.de/dichterinnen/amturme.htm). As a lyric poet, she is at her best when she is able to attune her thoughts to the sober landscape of the Westphalian moorlands of her home. Her narrative poetry, and especially Das Hospiz auf dem Großen St. Bernard and Die Schlacht im Loener Bruch (both 1838), belongs to the best German poetry of its kind. She was a strict Roman Catholic, and her religious poems, published in 1852, after her death, under the title Das geistliche Jahr, nebst einem Anhang religiöser Gedichte, enjoyed great popularity.
Annette von Droste-Hülshoff died in May 1848 at the Meersburg Castle, probably from pneumonia.
Annette Von Droste-Hulshoff's Works:
Die Judenbuche (novella, 1842)
Gedichte (Poems, 1844)
Westfälische Schilderungen ("Westphalian Illustrations", 1845)
Das geistliche Jahr (The Spiritual Year, cycle of poems, 1851)
Der Knabe im Moor ("The Lad on the Moor", ballad)
Letzte Gaben ("Last Gifts", poems, 1860)
Briefe von Annette von Droste-Hülshoff und Levin Schücking
Annette Von Droste-Hulshoff Poems
The Last Day Of The Year (New Year's Eve...
The year at its turn, the whirring thread unrolls. One hour more, the last today, and what was living time is scrolls
On The Tower
I stand aloft on the balcony, The starlings around me crying, And let like maenad my hair stream free
Oh night, you canopy of embroidered gold! Oh moon, you lamp of silver! You, who shroud the world around
I leant upon the balcony rail And there, for your mild light, I waited. High above me like crystals of clouded ice
Belovèd, when my spirit has departed, Lose no tears for me; For, where I linger, there is peace, And I am bathed in lasting day.
Farewell! There can be no other way. Let your fluttering sails be hoist. Left alone and castle bound I stay
In The Grass
Sweet peace, sweet delight of grass, Of its aroma breathed about me: Deep draught, deep, deeply drunk draught.
The Boy on the Moor
How dreadful it is to go over the moor When it is teeming with will o' the wisps And mists are whirling like phantoms
Farewell to Youth
As the trembling banished man Stands at his homeland border And backwards turns his gaze,
In The Grass
Sweet peace, sweet delight of grass,
Of its aroma breathed about me:
Deep draught, deep, deeply drunk draught.
When the clouds above are clearing,
When upon my tired, dizzy head
Sweet laughter flutters down,
When a dear voice murmurs and drops
Like Linden blossom onto a grave.