Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own has me currently entranced with its gentle, yet poignant questions about women’s history – not just in fiction, but in culture and arts generally.
According to a Washington Post quiz (which, given its loaded questions, ought to be taken with a pinch of salt), I come under the umbrella of “Yes, but…” feminists, meaning I identify as somewhat feminist but am also critical of feminism as it stands today. Without getting deeply into the topic – I am trying, by a thread, to stay apolitical on this blog – I would say that’s a fairly accurate summary of my outlook.
My main concern for women’s rights are those basic ones which are still lacking in other countries. In Woolf’s book, I am reminded that women in the West underwent similar struggles. For example, as lately as 100 years ago, a choice of career was limited:
…I had made my living by cadging odd jobs from newspapers, by reporting a donkey show here or a wedding there; I had earned a few pounds by addressing envelopes, reading to old ladies, making artificial flowers, teaching the alphabet to small children in a kindergarten. Such were the chief occupations that were open to women before 1918. (ch. 2)
More to come on this later. (This will be Monday’s podcast episode!)
Here I just wanted to share a piece by Clara Schumann, the talented pianist and composer, best known (for better or worse) as the wife of composer Robert Schumann. Like Robert, Clara composed lieder, or songs, which put German poetry to music. (I picture the German gentry gathering around of a summer’s evening, listening to a talented family member performing these songs, though whether that is totally accurate, I cannot say.)
These are the lyrics, translated by David Kenneth Smith:
| Der Mond kommt still gegangen | The moon so peaceful rises |
| Emanuel Geibel (1815-1884) | Op. 13 No. 4 |
| Der Mond kommt still gegangen | The moon so peaceful rises |
| mit seinem gold’nen Schein, | with all its golden shine, |
| da schläft in holdem Prangen | there sleeps in lovely glitter |
| die müde Erde ein. | the weary earth below. |
| Und auf den Lüften schwanken | And on the breezes waft down |
| aus manchem treuen Sinn | from many faithful hearts |
| viel tausend Liebesgedanken | true loving thoughts by the thousand |
| über die Schläfer hin. | upon the sleeping ones. |
| Und drunten im Tale, da funkeln | And down in the valley, there twinkle |
| die Fenster von Liebchens Haus; | the lights from my lover’s house; |
| ich aber blicke im Dunkeln | but I in darkness still look out – |
| still in die Welt hinaus. | silent – into the world. |
Classics Considered 
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