And here's a tale about another fascinating woman in Federician times whom he had a "oh, Fritz!" relationship with. Born Gertrud Elisabeth Schmeling in Kassel in the same year fellow Hessian Goethe was, 1749, she was the eighth daughter of a poor (and violent) town musician. Who had the same idea Leopold Mozart did when he saw his toddler kid grabbing a violin and hit the road with little Gertrud, presenting her as a musical Wunderkind in the Netherlands and various German cities. At first a violinist, but then this happened:
People: so, your kid is getting taller. Soon she'll hit puberty. The sight of a woman violinist is unseemly. Just saying. Dad Schmeling: Maybe if I dress her in male clothing? People: Works for a while, but are those breasts she starts to have? You're about a century too early for George Sand, mate. DS: Gertrud, enough with the violin. You have a nice singing voice. Maybe become a soprano instead? I still need cash. Gertrud: turns out to have a spectacular singing range of nearly three octaves, going from little g to three-stroke f (I hope that's the right expression in English). German public: goes wild Young Goethe: like many a fanboy, writes a "you're divine, be mine!" type of love poem to her; the poem isn't important, but there's a lovely pay off for this decades later British and Italian public: goes wild (Dad Schmeling: spends to much of her earned money he ends up in British debtor's prison until she gets him out of same)
Gertrud: debuts in Berlin, listened to by one of Fritz' courtiers who hastens off to Sanssouci Old Fritz: okay. I still think German voices sound like my horse, but I'll listen to her auditioning for my opera. His dogs: bark, since they're not used to a woman anywhere near him at this point. Gertrud: is fearless and tackles the aria he selects, a bravoura aria from Graun's Britannicus called "Mi parenti, il figlio indegno" Fritz: has her sing for him every night the next six weeks Dad Schmeling: So, cash? Fritz: You strike me as a jerk. 3000 Thaler for a two years contract. Gertrud: 6000 per year and a life time contract, and independence, that's what I'm thinking. Bye, Dad. Fritz: I sort of sympathize with the Dad issue. You've got a contract. But that name has to go. It's so... German. Gertrud: Christ. Okay, how about Elisabeth Schmeling instead? That's my middle name. Fritz: Not much better, but a bit.
*Elisabeth Schmeling continues to wow Berlin; among many fans is a young guy named Zelter, which only becomes a plot point later*
Elisabeth: *falls in love with Prince Heinrich's drop dead gorgeous Violinist Johann Mara, wants to marry him* Fritz: He's my brother's boy toy. Normally I'd see this as hilarious, but I sort of like you. Don't do it. Elisabeth: But I love him! He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen! You're just being a mean, controlling jerk, as per your reputation. I don't believe you. Fritz: Not in this case I'm not. Don't do it. Elisabeth: *runs away with Mara, marries him, is caught on route to England by Fritz' people* Fritz: You have a life time contract, Missy. Ten weeks arrest for Heinrich's boy toy. Elisabeth, now singing as Elisabeth Mara: I'm too young to make pointed remarks about people running away to England with their lovers and getting caught. Still. Can I at least guest star in a few German states? Fritz: Mayyybeee. Okay. But none that belong to the Queen of Hungary. Johann Mara: *spends Elisabeth's money, cheats on her* Fritz: I'm just saying. Elisabeth: He's still drop dead gorgeous and in my bed, jerk. Also, I'm off to Prague. Fritz: Prague belongs to THAT WOMAN. You're fired!
Elisabeth: *gets rave reviews and audience adulation in Prague, Vienna, etc., then goes to Paris, where the French are divided between "Maraists" (her crowd) and "Todists" (fans of Luisa Modi, the other prima donna), goes to Britain and is fanboyed by the Prince of Wales, and has a distinct sense of deja vue as her husband gambles money away and has sex left right and center, until she separates from him*
Elisabeth: Okay, one more season in Paris to earn some money, then I'm off to Moscow. Haven't done Russia yet. It looks like an interesting place to retire. Also they'll pay me my star salary whereas here the younger crowd is eyeing my top position.
*one revolution and one Empire later*
Moscow in 1812: *gets invaded by Napoleon, burns*
Elisabeth: There go my retirement fund and my earthly possessions. FUCK YOU, WORLD CONQUERORS. Guess I'll have to go back on the road again. *goes back to England, Berlin, gives some concerts, teaches a bit, finally gets offered job as house teacher from Livonian family, takes it for lack of alternatives*
Zelter *has become Goethe's old age pen pal*: Dear JWG, recently heard the wonderful Gertrud Elisabeth Schmeling Mara has fallen on hard times. Remember how we loved her? I feel we should do something when you're both turning 83 this year.
Goethe: *writes a second poem, "To Madame Mara", which uses the same metre his youthful ditty did but says, in rhymed form: Your life was full of music, you are still the music of our lives; you've brought joy often when my life had been a drag, and now that we're both close to our final destination, I send love and adoration to you!
Hummel: *sets the second poem to music*
Zelter: *sends poem and score to La Mara in Livonia
speaking of musical relationships....
People: so, your kid is getting taller. Soon she'll hit puberty. The sight of a woman violinist is unseemly. Just saying.
Dad Schmeling: Maybe if I dress her in male clothing?
People: Works for a while, but are those breasts she starts to have? You're about a century too early for George Sand, mate.
DS: Gertrud, enough with the violin. You have a nice singing voice. Maybe become a soprano instead? I still need cash.
Gertrud: turns out to have a spectacular singing range of nearly three octaves, going from little g to three-stroke f (I hope that's the right expression in English).
German public: goes wild
Young Goethe: like many a fanboy, writes a "you're divine, be mine!" type of love poem to her; the poem isn't important, but there's a lovely pay off for this decades later
British and Italian public: goes wild
(Dad Schmeling: spends to much of her earned money he ends up in British debtor's prison until she gets him out of same)
Gertrud: debuts in Berlin, listened to by one of Fritz' courtiers who hastens off to Sanssouci
Old Fritz: okay. I still think German voices sound like my horse, but I'll listen to her auditioning for my opera.
His dogs: bark, since they're not used to a woman anywhere near him at this point.
Gertrud: is fearless and tackles the aria he selects, a bravoura aria from Graun's Britannicus called "Mi parenti, il figlio indegno"
Fritz: has her sing for him every night the next six weeks
Dad Schmeling: So, cash?
Fritz: You strike me as a jerk. 3000 Thaler for a two years contract.
Gertrud: 6000 per year and a life time contract, and independence, that's what I'm thinking. Bye, Dad.
Fritz: I sort of sympathize with the Dad issue. You've got a contract. But that name has to go. It's so... German.
Gertrud: Christ. Okay, how about Elisabeth Schmeling instead? That's my middle name.
Fritz: Not much better, but a bit.
*Elisabeth Schmeling continues to wow Berlin; among many fans is a young guy named Zelter, which only becomes a plot point later*
Elisabeth: *falls in love with Prince Heinrich's drop dead gorgeous Violinist Johann Mara, wants to marry him*
Fritz: He's my brother's boy toy. Normally I'd see this as hilarious, but I sort of like you. Don't do it.
Elisabeth: But I love him! He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen! You're just being a mean, controlling jerk, as per your reputation. I don't believe you.
Fritz: Not in this case I'm not. Don't do it.
Elisabeth: *runs away with Mara, marries him, is caught on route to England by Fritz' people*
Fritz: You have a life time contract, Missy. Ten weeks arrest for Heinrich's boy toy.
Elisabeth, now singing as Elisabeth Mara: I'm too young to make pointed remarks about people running away to England with their lovers and getting caught. Still. Can I at least guest star in a few German states?
Fritz: Mayyybeee. Okay. But none that belong to the Queen of Hungary.
Johann Mara: *spends Elisabeth's money, cheats on her*
Fritz: I'm just saying.
Elisabeth: He's still drop dead gorgeous and in my bed, jerk. Also, I'm off to Prague.
Fritz: Prague belongs to THAT WOMAN. You're fired!
Elisabeth: *gets rave reviews and audience adulation in Prague, Vienna, etc., then goes to Paris, where the French are divided between "Maraists" (her crowd) and "Todists" (fans of Luisa Modi, the other prima donna), goes to Britain and is fanboyed by the Prince of Wales, and has a distinct sense of deja vue as her husband gambles money away and has sex left right and center, until she separates from him*
Elisabeth: Okay, one more season in Paris to earn some money, then I'm off to Moscow. Haven't done Russia yet. It looks like an interesting place to retire. Also they'll pay me my star salary whereas here the younger crowd is eyeing my top position.
*one revolution and one Empire later*
Moscow in 1812: *gets invaded by Napoleon, burns*
Elisabeth: There go my retirement fund and my earthly possessions. FUCK YOU, WORLD CONQUERORS. Guess I'll have to go back on the road again. *goes back to England, Berlin, gives some concerts, teaches a bit, finally gets offered job as house teacher from Livonian family, takes it for lack of alternatives*
Zelter *has become Goethe's old age pen pal*: Dear JWG, recently heard the wonderful Gertrud Elisabeth Schmeling Mara has fallen on hard times. Remember how we loved her? I feel we should do something when you're both turning 83 this year.
Goethe: *writes a second poem, "To Madame Mara", which uses the same metre his youthful ditty did but says, in rhymed form: Your life was full of music, you are still the music of our lives; you've brought joy often when my life had been a drag, and now that we're both close to our final destination, I send love and adoration to you!
Hummel: *sets the second poem to music*
Zelter: *sends poem and score to La Mara in Livonia
(Goethe: *dies one and a half year later*)
Elisabeth Mara *dies two years later*