Rilke, or: ice-bucketting my digital edition class

This week and next week, I am undertaking the final trips to the University where I held my locum professorship this past term (I shouldn’t write “past” considering the amount of grading I still have ahead of me until the 31st). Today, I gave a presentation together with two students, based on what was done in one class; tomorrow, two students from another class will present their results to me and next week, I will present even more results from this class at a workshop. In the meantime, my other students are finishing their last term papers in the form of blog posts (see here).

In other words: even if I did not want to draw a balance from this term, I would not be able to escape it. Continue reading “Rilke, or: ice-bucketting my digital edition class”

Fathoming one’s father

Anne Baillot, Sophia Zeil (Hrsg.): Brief von Dorothea Tieck an Friedrich von Uechtritz (Fragment) (ohne Ort, ohne Datum). Bearb. v. Sophia Zeil. In: Anne Baillot (Hrsg.), „Briefe und Texte aus dem intellektuellen Berlin um 1800“. Berlin: Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin. http://tei.ibi.hu-berlin.de/berliner-intellektuelle/manuscript?Brief05DorotheaTieckanUechtritz. Stand: 4. September 2014.
Image rights: Oberlausitzische Bibliothek der Wissenschaften in Görlitz

In the letters by Dorothea Tieck recently edited by Sophia Zeil in Letters and texts, there is one that illustrates to the perfection the censorship phenomena typical of letter editions in the 19th century. What is today considered as the first page of the letter begins in the middle of a sentence and was obviously originally not the first page of the letter. Also, it is crossed over in pencil. If you look for it in the existing print edition  (all the bibliographical references are to be found in our edition, see the footnotes), you will see that this passage is left unmentioned.

Taking a closer a look at the text, it becomes obvious that its content not only does not fit the heroical image of Tieck as a genius, but also contradicts the representation of him as a decent manager of his own literary enterprise. And even by very low standards in terms of expectations towards fatherhood, what his daughter has to say is pretty depressing. Continue reading “Fathoming one’s father”