Who was Martha Bernays Freud? What were her thoughts, feelings and conflicts about Freud during their four year engagement? How did she cope with Freud's possessive jealousy? Who were her family and her friends? What were her interests? What were the conditions of her education? What were her reactions to certain cultural events throughout the engagement? Freud was in Vienna and Martha lived in Wandsbek, Germany near the Northern coastline of Germany. How did Martha deal with her loneliness of being physically so far away from the man she loved? How did she find a balance between her mother and Freud who both attempted to completely dominate her? How was she able to persevere in her love in such a difficult situation? How did she develop the courage to change, to find her own voice, to transform herself from an unassuming, compliant girl into an assertive but kindly woman who required recognition and satisfaction of her own emotional needs? This book is a fictional depiction of 192 letters Martha Bernays wrote to Freud from 1882-1886. The letters span the four years of their engagement.

The Flash and Outbreak of a Fiery Mind

The Love Letters of Martha Bernays Freud, 1882-1886By Dale M. Moyer

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Dale M. Moyer, Ph.D.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6179-1

Chapter One

Letter #1

Vienna June 18, 1882

My dear Fianc,

I have done nothing for the past uncounted minutes but stare at those three words, continuously repeating them to myself. The words frame a set of memories that keep distracting me by their persistent intrusion into any other attempted line of thought. The memories have a sequential order to them, moving from the beginning to our engagement yesterday. Astonishingly, the sequence recycles, but with each new edition I see some new previously unnoticed details that delight me.

I vividly remember the lovely evening in April when Minna and I were visiting with your family. Your sisters, Anna and Rosa in particular, in amusing ways, told me not to be offended by your brusque manner when you return home from your work at the lab; I should expect you to bustle into the house, be abrupt with everyone, and make straight for your room. When you came home you glanced at me peeling an apple. You set down your books and surprised everyone by joining in the conversation around your family table.

How charming to have a red rose sent to me every day, along with your visiting card. I was intrigued by the quotations in Latin, Spanish, English or German on the back of the card. I realized then you were special. Special because you discerned my love for languages, and that you too realize the man who does not know foreign tongues knows nothing of his own. You revealed your romantic sensitivity by quoting a line from some of the greatest poets: Virgil and Ovid, Quevedo, Bcquer, Rosalia de Castro, Shakespeare, Blake, Wordsworth, Goethe, Schiller, and Heine. Your choice of their words still powerfully vibrates in my mind.

I remember the moment you started calling me "Princess" because you thought I reminded you of a fairy princess from whose lips fell rose petals and pearls. I retorted, teasingly, you might find that the sharp thorn often produces soft roses. We told each other things like that on the last day of May when we had our first private talk together, walking the Kahlenberg, arm in arm, with me leaning against you.

The cake I sent on June ninth for you to "dissect" with your colleagues, I'd been so fastidious in making that I drove Minna wild with laughter because she realized I wasn't making a wine cake but instead a love cake.

Yesterday! Wonderful, wonderful yesterday! The memories of how pale you looked. Your hesitancy. How your voice trembled. What you said about your feelings for me. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. I found it difficult to breathe and swallow. Your cold, shaking hands in mine helped somehow to calm me so I could try to assuage your apprehension. You proposed! My face flushed. I suddenly felt so overheated with excitement. I told you so, and we both laughed. You were glowing with pleasure when I gave you Papa's gold filigree ring with the pearl setting for you to wear on your little finger. Mama had given me Papa's ring after he died. I think she expected I would give it to the man who would become my fianc. To me, the ring represents our affection and possession of each other. Now that we belong to one another, let's commemorate the 17th of every month!

I arrived 45 minutes early at the train station so I could settle into a comfortable second class compartment and have enough time to write you this letter. I have the David Copperfield you gave to me. I will read it on my way to Wandsbek and during my visit with my Uncle Elias. Mama and Minna decided instead of Wandsbek for the holidays, they will go to Reichenau.

The train is about to leave. I could go on and on about my memories. I must stop writing and seal the letter. I am enclosing my photograph and a little gilded box to keep it in. If I give this to the porter, you should receive it today. I will write to you every day! Please do the same!

Your Martha

Letter #2

Somewhere in the middle of Germany June 18, 1882

Darling,

The train has stopped at some little town. I had been reading David Copperfield, and by the time I looked up, I missed seeing the railroad sign for the town. The engine is being switched with another so there is much backward and forward movement of the train. Passenger cars crash together, jolting everyone forward, backwards and sideways. The noise, movement and heat make it impossible to read any further into Dickens' compelling book. It has been a very agreeable companion on this trip.

At this moment David Copperfield is closed on my lap. The train is calm. My mind begins to circle inward to special memories. When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past. The sweet thoughts, though, turn suddenly to our fear the engagement will be discovered. We must be very careful so Mama does not hear even a whisper of it. After Papa died and then also Uncle Jacob two years later, we had to be watchful over our pennies. It was then Mama's brother, Uncle Elias, and my friend Bertha Pappenheim's father, became our guardians. My brother, Eli, was just 19 at the time Papa died, has heroically provided for Mama, Minna, and me. You must understand under these circumstances Mama has insisted I marry a man with an established social position and known financial reserves. A year ago I almost decided to become engaged to Hugo Kadisch. He is a prominent businessman but considerably older than I. I did not love him but considered the engagement out of regard for Mama. I shall always be indebted to Eli for talking me out of it. He made me see I should only become engaged out of my love for a man. I love you. Unfortunately you hardly satisfy Mama's criteria. Your social position in the world is only a potentiality, and your financial situation, as I understand it, is grimly uncertain. Therein lies the necessity for secrecy. Of course, I will confide in Minna and Eli; Minna will surely inform Schnberg. Do you believe you can trust your sisters? They will be so excited to know that at least one of them might slip up and let the word out. Any precautions about your sisters probably do not matter because Eli and your sister Anna seem very close to one another these days. In fact, the closeness between those two led Minna and me to visit and socialize with your sisters on the April evening that we met.

We will have to be discreet in communicating. I think there is a way to avoid arousing Mama's suspicions when you write to me. My old friend, Fritz Wahle, who is engaged to my cousin Elise, often writes to me. I will have him address a number of envelopes to me but place a small "m" in the upper right hand corner on the back of the envelope. Fritz is in Vienna and will leave the envelopes with you. I will inform Fritz of our engagement. I am sure he is trustworthy and will value your gratitude. I will send my letters to your lab in Ernst Brcke's physiology institute. I prefer we write our letters to each other in Gothic rather than Latin script.

The conductor just told me the train will be delayed for another 30 minutes. More than enough time to complete this letter and have a...