This is for cahn. A very shortend and paraphrased summary would go thusly:
Let me tell you all about my family. Dad: on the one hand, was always very proud that he singlehandedly changed Prussia from a bankrupt joke to a respected kingdom. Otoh, he was horrible to live with. I won’t run out of stories of him being violently abusive towards Fritz, me and Mom in this volume, reader.
Mom: on the one hand, Fritz & self owe her all for her appreciation for the arts, which Dad was always against. And she had a hard time with him. Otoh, I resent Mom, too. Not least for putting us on a war footing with Dad by making us promise we’d never marry anyone but our English cousins, and making us choose between him and her even before he went nuts on us. (She never forgave me for eventually marrying someone else, either.) Also, until I was eleven, my governess kept abusing me, and did Mom ever notice? Nope. It needed Fritz‘ governess to point out to her that mine would cripple me for life if she continued to be in charge of me.
Fritz: my dearest brother, whom I’m emotionally all over the place about, due to writing my memoirs during the three years interlude we were estranged. He was wonderful until he got on the throne. Thereafter, my moments of WTF, Fritz? Keep increasing.
*explanatory footnote from the Fritz/Wilhelmine correspondence about their three years estrangement: Fritz: you betrayed me by meeting Maria Theresia. Wilhelmine: It was just the one time! She’s the empress, passing through Bayreuth, how could I not? Fritz: You LIKED her, you traitor. She LIKED you. I hate you forever. Wilhelmine: WTF, Fritz?*
My younger siblings: get only cameos in these memoirs. Like in this rare non-violent story of what happenened when Dad became a fan of the Preacher Mr. Francke, who made him feel he wasn’t pious enough. Original quote follows: „Every afternoon, the King held us a sermon. His lackey sang a choral, in which we all had to join. The sermon we had to listen to with the same attention as if an apostle was speaking. My brother and myself got the giggles, and often, we just had to laugh. Then we were chastized by all the condemnation of the church, which we had to endure with repentant faces, hard as that was. In short, this dog Francke was at fault for us having to live like Trappists for a while. This exaggareted pietism even made the King hit on an even stranger idea. He decided to abdicate in favour of my brother. He only wanted to reserve an income of 10 000 Taler per annum for himself and wanted to retire to Wusterhausen with the Queen and his daughters. „There,“ he said, „I shall pray to God and organize the sowing of the fields while my wife and my daughters will work in the household. You,“ he addressed me, „are skillful, so you’ll be in charge of the clothing, sewing and laundry. Friederike is thrifty, she’ll supervise the kitchen. Charlotte will go to the market to shop for food, and my wife will be in charge of the younger children’s education.“ He even started to write down instructions for my brother.“
Prussian royal family: WTF, Dad?
FW: Okay, Fritz & self just got invited to Dresden, guess we’ll have to postpone the godly existence as normal pious citizens.
*Dresden interlude* Ensues.
FW: Maybe Wilhelmine should marry King August. Sophia Dorothea: The guy who’s her godfather, spawned roughly 300 kids already and is potentially sleeping with at least one of them?
FW: You’re just hung up about those British marriages, aren’t you.
Wilhelmine's memoirs
Let me tell you all about my family. Dad: on the one hand, was always very proud that he singlehandedly changed Prussia from a bankrupt joke to a respected kingdom. Otoh, he was horrible to live with. I won’t run out of stories of him being violently abusive towards Fritz, me and Mom in this volume, reader.
Mom: on the one hand, Fritz & self owe her all for her appreciation for the arts, which Dad was always against. And she had a hard time with him. Otoh, I resent Mom, too. Not least for putting us on a war footing with Dad by making us promise we’d never marry anyone but our English cousins, and making us choose between him and her even before he went nuts on us. (She never forgave me for eventually marrying someone else, either.) Also, until I was eleven, my governess kept abusing me, and did Mom ever notice? Nope. It needed Fritz‘ governess to point out to her that mine would cripple me for life if she continued to be in charge of me.
Fritz: my dearest brother, whom I’m emotionally all over the place about, due to writing my memoirs during the three years interlude we were estranged. He was wonderful until he got on the throne. Thereafter, my moments of WTF, Fritz? Keep increasing.
*explanatory footnote from the Fritz/Wilhelmine correspondence about their three years estrangement: Fritz: you betrayed me by meeting Maria Theresia.
Wilhelmine: It was just the one time! She’s the empress, passing through Bayreuth, how could I not?
Fritz: You LIKED her, you traitor. She LIKED you. I hate you forever.
Wilhelmine: WTF, Fritz?*
My younger siblings: get only cameos in these memoirs. Like in this rare non-violent story of what happenened when Dad became a fan of the Preacher Mr. Francke, who made him feel he wasn’t pious enough. Original quote follows:
„Every afternoon, the King held us a sermon. His lackey sang a choral, in which we all had to join. The sermon we had to listen to with the same attention as if an apostle was speaking. My brother and myself got the giggles, and often, we just had to laugh. Then we were chastized by all the condemnation of the church, which we had to endure with repentant faces, hard as that was. In short, this dog Francke was at fault for us having to live like Trappists for a while. This exaggareted pietism even made the King hit on an even stranger idea. He decided to abdicate in favour of my brother. He only wanted to reserve an income of 10 000 Taler per annum for himself and wanted to retire to Wusterhausen with the Queen and his daughters. „There,“ he said, „I shall pray to God and organize the sowing of the fields while my wife and my daughters will work in the household. You,“ he addressed me, „are skillful, so you’ll be in charge of the clothing, sewing and laundry. Friederike is thrifty, she’ll supervise the kitchen. Charlotte will go to the market to shop for food, and my wife will be in charge of the younger children’s education.“ He even started to write down instructions for my brother.“
Prussian royal family: WTF, Dad?
FW: Okay, Fritz & self just got invited to Dresden, guess we’ll have to postpone the godly existence as normal pious citizens.
*Dresden interlude* Ensues.
FW: Maybe Wilhelmine should marry King August.
Sophia Dorothea: The guy who’s her godfather, spawned roughly 300 kids already and is potentially sleeping with at least one of them?
FW: You’re just hung up about those British marriages, aren’t you.