“I do not think it makes a difference in the work if the donnée is true or not. All is true which is true inwardly, for all has happened, and the novelist has only to disentangle the thread and show why it has happened. It is tremendously hard work for body and mind.”
“My Book.” An Egyptian picture-book with drawings from Egypt round the borders, and facsimile poems of Carmen Sylva (1885).
“From Two Worlds.” A novel by Carmen Sylva, written in joint authorship with Frau Mite Kemnitz, née Bardeleben, and brought out in 1885 under the pseudonym of “Ditto” and “Idem.” In the form of letters and journals a love story is here developed between two persons of different social standing. The young Princess Ulrike von Grosreichenstein takes a fancy to a Professor of History in Greifswald, whose principal work she has read. She writes to him of her passionate admiration. The correspondence leads to a personal meeting and deep love. Thereupon follows a scene, a love match, a terrible catastrophe, and at last the noble family, so proud of its descent, is conciliated to the unalterable facts. It is not the description of real life, but the different manner of thinking and looking at things, in which the interest of “In Two Worlds” is centred. The letters of Princess Ulrike are by “Ditto” (Carmen Sylva), while “Idem” (Mite Kremnitz) originated the Professor.
“Astra,” a novel by Ditto and Idem (1886). The places described in this novel are in the immediate neighbourhood of Roumania. The habits of the people and the country are here described with great exactness and in a lively manner. Astra goes on a visit to her sister, who is married to a country gentleman of the province of Bukowina. Sandor becomes enamoured of the “Will o’ the Wisp,” his graceful sister-in-law. This leads to a conflict which ends tragically. Here also the epistolary form is chosen. While the dramatis personæ let us see the innermost thoughts of their hearts, the development of their characters is clearly unfolded. Carmen Sylva gave the following answer to some ladies who had written to inquire if the unhappy being depicted in Astra had really lived, and whether the novel was based on truth.
“21st July 1836.—A good novel must, according to my convictions, never be anything but an imaginary biography. You have only to put together the contrasts of which every life really consists. You would hardly believe of how many thousands of prisms a human being is made up. He is a regular kaleidoscope. As you turn him, he assumes a different aspect. The motive power of the experience and impressions is the principal thing. Words spring out of this of themselves.
“Astra is perhaps a vague recollection of a charming creature whom I always called my Will o’ the Wisp, and who to my eternal sorrow had the same fate as them all, though this is not in any way like the little Astra. Margot is the creation of my fellow-worker, Frau Mite Kremnitz, who had the death-scenes plainly before her mind, though every one was against it. As to Sandor, we are afraid that he really exists, though, of course, he is not quite the same. We may not be so indiscreet as to paint portraits, but the brain is too good a photographic plate not to take hold of what we have experienced and to reproduce it to a certain extent, whilst we are thinking that we are working from imagination alone.
“Our working together is certainly charming. What talks and what sharp encounters we have when we separate of an evening, and during the night a new solution has appeared to every one. This then must be the right one! Still we surprise one another in its execution. Our first book was called ‘From Two Worlds.’ Since ‘Astra’ we have written a novel, ‘It was a Mistake.’ It appeared in 1886, first in “Nord und Süd,” when we often took the pen out of each other’s hands and let the other write on.
“There is another book in print, ‘The Century,’ which is very good. It is a novel by Ditto and Idem, describing the time of the French War of 1870. We have already a new book on the brain which is to be called “Brother and Sister,” and to which we look forward with the joy of children, and whose tragical moments we dread already, before the first word is written, for we must pay dearly for it when we dive into the depths of the heart. We cannot do this without suffering great pain. And with what anxiety does one ask oneself at every line, ‘Is that true?’ As if one stood before a judge and bore a tremendous responsibility! For nothing can give authors more pleasure than that that which comes from the heart should touch the hearts of others. A book of 300 pages has already lain by for four years, because I have not the courage to bear all the trials which my characters have to suffer, and yet I cannot but write what I know to be true.”
“Mistaken”—tales of Ditto and Idem of which most of the circumstances were taken from life. Amongst other things the story of the funeral during the snowstorm is most touching. The pathetic and yet so simple a story of love and death, as well as the description of the terrible storm, are here recounted with marvellous artistic power.
“Seventeen Songs of the Artisans,” by J. E. Bowen, were translated into English, and appeared in the Prize Number of the Independent in New York in 1887. There they will also appear as a small book.