This post explores a strong stylistic and thematic influence on Günderrode’s work: the writings of legendary Scottish bard Ossian.

For an English translation of Günderrode’s dramatic fragment “Mora” see Karoline von Günderrode: Philosophical Writings (OUP: forthcoming January-March 2026). A translation of the short story “Timur” is included at the end of this post. Versions of the original German texts for “Timur” and “Mora” can be found here and here. Please cite me if you share or quote from this translation or commentary.

The clearest influence of Ossian on Günderrode’s work is to be seen in her first collection, Poems and Fantasies, published in 1804. This volume opens with Günderrode’s 39-verse reworking of Ossian’s “Dar-thula” and includes two other pieces, “Timur” and “Mora,” that are more loosely based on Ossian’s writings. In addition to these three texts, Ossian’s work was a strong influence on other pieces in Poems and Fantasies as well as Günderrode’s later writing. Günderrode’s engagement with Ossian is interesting not only as a record of an important source of inspiration but also as an early attempt to address some of the topics that were to preoccupy her in her later work, including gender, agency, identity and death.

First, a little background on Ossian himself, whose work was first published in English in the 1760s.[1] The stories were purportedly authored by a third-century Celtic bard, but it quickly emerged that their “editor,” James Macpherson, had written much of the work himself on the basis of Irish and Scottish folk tales and oral histories, and that the figure of Ossian was semi-fictional.[2] However, many elements of the stories do have a basis in Celtic oral traditions. In particular, much of “Dar-thula” can be traced to a popular folk tale, “The Deaths of the Sons of Uisneach [also spelled “Usnech”],” the earliest written version of which is found in the fifteenth-century Glenmasan Manuscript, which itself was likely based on an earlier manuscript of 1238.[3] The character Dar-thula corresponds to the legendary figure of Deirdre of the Sorrows, and the other characters in the piece to Deirdre’s beloved Naoise (Nathos, in Macpherson’s spelling) and his brothers Ardan and Ainnle (Althos) – i.e., the three sons of Uisneach (Usnoth) – and their enemy Conchobar (Cairbar).

Macpherson’s publications were immediately popular and German translations appeared as early as 1762.[4] The pieces were an influence on a great number of writers in Germany, including Herder, Hölderlin, Klopstock, Karl Philipp Moritz, Jean Paul, Schiller, and Romantic authors such as Novalis, Tieck and Kleist.[5] Goethe included extensive translations from Ossian’s “Songs of Selma” and “Berrathon” in his Sorrows of Young Werther (1774),[6] which itself was hugely influential. Ossianic depictions of nature as wild, sublime and invested with emotional weight helped shape the Sturm und Drang movement and Romanticism in Germany,[7] and it has been claimed that Macpherson’s use of fragments and the mixing of genres and of prose and verse is also reflected in Romanticism.[8]

We know from Günderrode’s letters and notes that she read Ossian’s work at least by 1800.[9] More specifically, Walter Morgenthaler, the editor of her collected works, claims that her German sources for “Darthula” were Edmund von Harold’s Die Gedichte Ossians eines alten celtischen Helden und Barden (1775), extracts of which appear in Günderrode’s notebooks,[10] and Michael Denis’ Ossians und Sineds Lieder (1784).[11] Günderrode’s “Darthula” is thus a product of multiple textual reinterpretations: a reworking of German translations of English re-imaginings of original Gaelic elements. The two other Ossianic pieces in Poems and Fantasies, “Timur” and “Mora,” are original to Günderrode, though based heavily on the themes, characters, places and language of Ossian’s writings. 

As several commentators have noted, Günderrode adopts numerous themes and tropes from Ossian, which appear not only in the three Ossianic pieces of Poems and Fantasies but throughout this collection and her later work. These include the use of bards as a poetic device, laments for the fallen, men fighting over women and kingdoms, and women disguising themselves as male warriors, especially in order to defend loved ones or their honour.[12]

In terms of content, Ruth Christmann and Wolfgang Westphal argue that Günderrode’s interest in death, especially the connection of death and love, is in part a product of her engagement with Ossian, as is her frequent characterisation of nature as reflecting the experiences and emotions of her protagonists.[13] The trope of the virgin at arms, or woman warrior, is another popular theme that Günderrode developed in original ways, using this motif as part of her critique of traditional gender roles. For details on how she does this, see the introduction to my translation of “Mora” in the forthcoming Karoline von Günderrode: Philosophical Writings, and the section on “Gender” in the general introduction to the same volume. See also the papers by Liesl Allingham and Elizabeth Krimmer listed in the bibliography at the end of this post.

Stylistically, Gerald Bär and Howard Gaskill note the Ossianic overtones of Günderrode’s depictions of nature as turbulent and emotionally weighted.[14] Ossianic elements in Günderrode’s depictions of nature include her descriptions of storms, surging waves, rasping ravens, howling winds, ghosts, graves, cliffs and heaving oceans. Several apparently idiosyncratic phrases in Poems and Fantasies are also derived from Ossian. For example, in “Timur,” Günderrode writes that Ermar’s “blood smoked down to the sea” after he is thrown from a cliff. This reflects the language Ossian uses in “Temora” to describe the stabbing of his character Cormac, whose blood, Ossian writes, “is smoking round.”[15] In “Mora,” a bard sings about a “hall of shells,” referring to drinking shells like those Ossian describes being served during feasts.[16] Günderrode’s characterisation of Mora’s beloved Frothal as “king of spears” uses a term deployed by Ossian to describe heroes, including Fingal and Ossian himself.[17] In addition, the names of the characters in Günderrode’s “Mora” and “Timur,” including Frothal, Torlat, Karmor, Karul, Thormod and Mora, are identical or similar to names appearing in Ossian’s work.[18]

While much of Ossian’s influence on Günderrode takes the form of shared plots, themes and language, Günderrode’s “Darthula” follows Ossian’s version closely, repeating most of the plot points in the same order and in many places reflecting Ossian’s language and imagery. Some of Günderrode’s omissions, additions, and alterations are significant, however, as has been explored by Allingham and Krimmer.[19] Most importantly, Günderrode cuts several passages recounting the activities of characters that occur while Darthula is absent, for example the gathering of the old heroes of Selama and Nathos’ return to Tara.[20] Where Günderrode adds lines that are not taken directly or almost directly from the original, they tend to emphasise (1) Darthula’s feelings and motivations, in particular in ways that characterise her as sorrowful and lonely;[21] (2) the tragedy of Darthula’s death;[22] or (3) Darthula’s beauty.[23] The result of these modifications is to focus the piece more closely on Darthula’s perspective, sidelining Ossian’s hero Nathos. This focus contributes to Darthula appearing as a more active agent in Günderrode’s version of this story than she does in Ossian’s: a fleshed-out heroine, with a history, feelings and motivations, who is the centre of the action.

This kind of retelling of legends, myths, histories and tropes to focus on the experiences of female characters, in the process emphasising the agency of these women, can be seen in other works by Günderrode, including “Ariadne on Naxos” and “The Frank in Egypt” and later works such as the plays Hildgund and Udohla. In Hildgund, in particular, we can see a longer, more detailed and more original version of what Günderrode attempts in “Darthula”: Günderrode tells the stories of the famous historical figures Attila the Hun and Walther of Aquitaine from the perspective of Hildgund, who she develops as a three-dimensional character with feelings and motives for her decisions. Like Darthula, Günderrode shows Hildgund participating actively in a political and military arena for the sake of honour and at the risk of her life.[24]

The plots of both “Timur” and “Mora” are also strongly influenced by Ossian, although unlike “Darthula” they do not follow the storyline of any one specific work. In “Mora,” the titular heroine puts on her lover’s armour to defend his life and her right to marry whom she chooses; she is killed in the ensuing battle. This plot has correspondences with Books 1 and 5 of Ossian’s “Fingal” and his story “Oithona,” which, like the other pieces discussed in this post, were available in German translation by the time Günderrode was writing. Jointly, these stories provide many elements of Günderrode’s “Mora,” including the setting by a cave, the love triangle, the use of a weapon by the heroine, and her death at the hands of her unwanted suitor.[25] In the case of Book 1 of “Fingal,” the name “Morna” is also similar to “Mora.” 

Günderrode’s character Mora’s use of a disguise to enter battle also resembles plots and characters in other of Ossian’s stories, where women often conceal themselves in armour to go into battle, in particular in order to protect a loved one. Examples of this in Ossian’s work include Dar-thula, Colmal in “Calthon and Colmal,” Sul-malla in “Temora,”[26] Comala in “Comala: A Dramatic Poem,”[27] and Utha and Crimora in “Carric-thura.”[28]

All three of the Ossian-inspired pieces in Poems and Fantasies focus on women who take an active role in obtaining their goals and participate in battles or, in the case of “Timur,” in murder. In all three cases, the motivations for these activities are to protect or avenge loved ones and to uphold individual and family honour. This common motivation connects Günderrode’s Ossian reception to her later investigations of gender and gender roles, which emerged in more detailed form in her later works, including the plays Hildgund and Udohla.

Let us turn now to the short story, “Timur,” which I have translated at the end of this post. Jeannine Blackwell has argued for providing the English title “Temora” instead of “Timur” on the grounds that (she suggests) the story is based on Ossian’s Temora, An Ancient Epic Poem in Eight Books.[29] There is indeed a close resemblance between the opening lines of Günderrode’s “Timur” and Macpherson’s summary of the plot of Book 1 of Ossian’s “Temora”; however, in other respects the pieces are not similar. Ossian’s “Temora” tells the story of the Fir-bolg chief Cairbar’s usurping of the Irish throne from Cormac and its restoration by Cormac’s distant (male) relative Fingal. Günderrode’s story has a background of the usurping of a throne and the eventual death of the usurper, but is focused on a tragic love affair between the son of the murdered king and the daughter of the usurper, which has no parallel in Ossian’s “Temora.” 

In fact, the plot of Günderrode’s “Timur” is closer to that of Ossian’s “Calthon and Colmal,” which was available to Günderrode in translations by Harold and Denis.[30] This story by Ossian begins with the murder of Rathmor, a chief of Clutha, by Dunthalmo, Lord of Teutha. Dunthalmo raises Rathmor’s sons Calthon and Colmar, but later, fearing they will avenge their father’s murder, he imprisons them in two caves. Dunthalmo’s daughter Colmal, who is in love with Calthon, disguises herself as a warrior and helps Calthon escape. Meanwhile, Dunthalmo kills Colmar. Calthon and Colmal appeal for aid to Ossian, who in addition to being a bard is handy with a weapon. Ossian kills Dunthalmo, and Calthon and Colmal marry.[31]

Many elements from this story appear in Günderrode’s “Timur,” including the imprisonment of the son of a murdered ruler by his murderer, the love of the murderer’s daughter for the imprisoned youth, her aiding the prisoner to escape, and the revenge murder of the original murderer, although in Ossian’s story this is done by a third party (Ossian) instead of by the wronged son of the dead ruler, as in Günderrode’s “Timur.” As an aside, in light of these resemblances it seems likely that, in Günderrode’s story, the young warrior who helps Timur escape is meant to be Thia, the daughter of the usurper Ermar, in disguise, although Günderrode does not make this explicit. In addition, Günderrode adds various characters and events to the plot, taking the story beyond a retelling of Ossian’s original work. These include all the tragic events after the murder of the usurper, which follow the fatal unfolding of the conflict between Thia’s filial duty and devotion and her love for Timur.

Another point against equating the terms “Timur” and “Temora” is that Ossian’s Temora is a place – the seat of kings of Ireland – while Günderrode’s Timur is a person – the son of the murdered ruler. In addition, there is the question why Günderrode would change the spelling to “Timur” when she must have been aware that, for her readers, “Timur” would signify the fourteenth-century Turko-Mongol conqueror Timur, or Tamerlane.[32] Lucia Maria Licher even claims that, rather than representing an Ossianic character, Günderrode’s Timur is based on the historical figure Timur/Tamerlane.[33] Supporting Licher’s suggestion is Günderrode’s use of imagery of the east in this piece, such as the women breathing “Arabia’s balsam” and wearing “Persian silk.” Günderrode was interested in Middle Eastern history and mythology, and in the stories of great conquerors like Tamerlane and Attila, so it is plausible that she wished to write a story featuring the former, as she did for the latter in Hildgund.

In light of the above considerations, it seems likely that “Timur” is a synthesis of more than one story from more than one region: Northern European, Ossianic elements meet elements from the Persian and Middle Eastern stories that also interested Günderrode and that are represented elsewhere in Poems and Fantasies, such as in “Musa,”[34] “The Apparition”[35] and “The Frank in Egypt.”[36] And, in the absence of decisive evidence for changing the title of Günderrode’s piece to “Temora,” I have left her original spelling, “Timur,” for both the title and the character.

TIMUR

Ermar had thrown the house of Parimor from the throne, Parimor himself, his wife and his friends had fallen under the sword of the overthrower, only Timur, his only son, fell living into Ermar’s hands. Reluctantly the land submitted to the victor, who obtained the castle of the unfortunate Parimor on the north coast of the island; and shared the highest power with his brother, the wild Konnar.

None of all the friends of the toppled royal house knew where Timur was, or whether he lived? only the prophetess knew it, the silent seer, who lived in a cave at the entrance of the earth, she saw the coming destinies, the depths of the human breast, and the unhappy Timur’s chains. The prophetess lived alone and performed secretive works, and of all mortals only Thia, the beautiful daughter of Ermar, knew her habitation. The prophetess loved the girl, she taught her various secrets, and often disclosed to her the events of the future.

Once the prophetess spoke to the daughter of Ermar: Girl! fear the fate of your father: his misdeed has awoken the spirit of vengeance; look here! And she showed the terrified girl in a mirror a deep prison of the castle, and in the prison lay, on mouldy straw, a youth with burning eyes and dense brown locks; Thia could not sate her eyes on the sight of the prisoner; but the seeress spoke: this is the king of this land, he languishes in chains, and your father wears the crown that is due to him.

Full of thought Thia hurried back to her father’s castle, and sought everywhere for a door that might lead to Timur’s dungeon. In the north the castle was surrounded by rough cliffs, that reached down to the ocean, in these cliffs Thia discovered, tucked away between shrubs and nettles, a grille that barred a dark deep; this grille she had seen in the magic mirror; and each morning before the inhabitants of the castle awoke, and each evening when the mild twilight concealed the deeds of love in its veil, she went there, sat sorrowingly beside the grille, and sighed: Timur! Timur! and it seemed to her as if dear, invisible arms came up out of the grille and held her entwined, so that she could not leave the place, and did not heed that the raw night wind blew around her and the dew of heaven dampened her.

Two years had Timur languished in the dungeon, already vengeance’s wild thoughts had become pale and powerless, and the dreams of salvation and liberation had been dreamt away; he already believed himself forgotten by all people, when it seemed to him he heard a sweet voice whisper his name, and each morning and each evening he heard the same voice call: Timur! Timur! and when he slumbered on his bed, it seemed to him an angel with gleaming locks and rosy cheeks bent over him, pressed soft kisses on his lips and sighed: Timur! But when he awoke the rosy cheeks vanished in the dungeon night, the bright locks paled, the kisses burned up, yet the sweet voice whispered on, and he did not know whether the dream was real, or the really apparent a dream.

Days and weeks had thus passed, when the girl spoke to Ermar: “Father! the mouth of the prophetess proclaims harm and ruin to you, because of the son of Parimor, who innocently languishes in your chains, your injustice will awaken the spirit of vengeance, fear it!” Timur’s power is fettered, replied Ermar: where is the arm that will lend itself to revenge? Fear, spoke Thia, the future and the seeress’ unerring words; I saw Timur, I love him, give him freedom, give him to me, fetter him to you with a holy bond, or fear also your daughter. But Ermar remained unrelenting until his only daughter threw herself at his feet, and swore to him to make her beloved into his true son and friend, or to betray him, if he were ungrateful, and in the middle of their embrace drive a dagger into his breast.

Timur lay in heavy dreams, the spirit of his father appeared to him wrapped in bloody grave clothes, and spoke, avenge me! the time has come. Timur awoke, but still he heard the words, the time has come! he was still contemplating this when the grille opened; a warrior stepped within and bade him follow. Silently, full of strange sentiments Timur walked along behind his guide. Now they had arrived at the cliffs, the warrior removed himself, and Ermar approached the youth. The time has come, avenge me, whispered a voice in Timur’s soul: an invisible power drove him; before Ermar had spoken, the youth seized him, and hurled him down from the cliffs, so that his blood smoked down to the sea.

The inhabitants of the castle gathered, they recognized the son of their Kings, and gladly named him lord, and ruler. But when it was night, and the King was alone, Thia came to him, and spoke: “I loved you, I watched at the door of your dungeon, and confided your name to the night, and the stars; your freedom is my work, but you murdered my father, you placed a heavy blood debt upon my soul, therefore away from you!”

And the girl went, and did not turn back. Then the King became very sad, the clamourous hunt did not gladden him, nor the cup, alone he stood on his cliffs, and saw, and heard nothing but the terror of the coming winter. The sky was covered with heavy clouds, icy rain fell, the north wind raked the forest and drove the dun leaves around in wild eddies, the surf boomed on the coast, and the rasping raven conversed with its echo. Moons went by thus, and always cold rain and snow fell and the sky remained dark like the soul of Timur; then his friends gathered around him and spoke: it is not good oh King! that you grieve so lonely, come! let us do deeds; beyond the mountains Konnar still rules over the people with an iron sceptre, come! conquer your inheritance, overthrow the betrayers! The youth obeyed, he tore himself from his dreaming and plunged into the crush of battle to deeds and glory.

Uncertain, fortune swung between Konnar and Timur, Timur was valiant, Konnar firm and clever. A battle decided for Konnar, Timur had to withdraw into the mountains. The day passed by in the turmoil of combat, in attack and defence, but when the night sank down, and the war-god was lulled into slumber, the companions gathered around Timur, and in the gullies of lonely mountains, in the night of dense forests, where the scouting enemy did not suspect them, they erected a cheerful tent, a hundred torches illuminated the wilderness, the cup of joy went around, a sweet music resounded accompanied by the voices of brown-haired maidens, and Timur revelled in glory and delight and love, and his companions cheered in wild joy.

But once Timur was alone on his bed, and sleep fled him, it seemed to him he heard the rustle of quiet steps, and as he listened, he felt himself suddenly entwined by tender arms, and hot longing kisses covered his lips; but when he awoke in the morning his bed was deserted. For three nights the unknown lover had already visited the King’s bed, but when she came for the fourth time, he locked her in his arms and swore not to leave her, until she had revealed herself to him, so that he could share his throne and his majesty with her. “Only let me go unknown from you this time” spoke the maiden, “when the night returns and the stars gleam again, a black steed will stand before you, trust yourself to it, it will carry you there where all will be revealed to you.” The King let the maiden go from him. But when it was night he found the steed; a peculiar shudder ran through his bones, but he swung himself upon the animal’s back, and it carried him through unknown tangled paths, through chasms and forests, and stopped before a magnificent illuminated palace. The gates opened, two boys stepped out, held his reins and led him to a hall. A mild twilight ruled, for only a half moon over a basin into which perfumed balmy water rushed illuminated the room with a changing shimmer, now the moon shone in dark purple, then in pale roseate, then again blue like the arc of heaven, then finally like the green glaze of meadows.

Astounded, for a while Timur watched the changing play of colours; then the doors opened and many beautiful maidens came in in various strange and peculiar costumes; a floral wreath wound around the blonde hair of one, a delicate white dress flowed around her. Another breathed Arabia’s balsam, the exquisite dew of the east surrounded her dark locks in shining rows, and gold wrought in Persian silk enveloped her ample round limbs. A third in light silver gauze resembled the air’s aetherial beauties; and the fairest of all the regions seemed gathered around the youth. Suddenly the water shone like the sun and poured wide streams of light through the hall; a music, like organ tones, was heard, a lovely voice accompanied the soughing harmonies and hovered over them, like a light spring breeze hovers over the booming ocean, but the tones became stronger and stronger, and engulfed the voice in waves of melody. The maidens surrounded the youth, spoke kindly to him, and each sent him hot glances, as if each had been the lover of the night. Searchingly the King considered them, each seemed to him fair and lovely, but his heart was moved by none, she whom I seek is not here, spoke his deepest soul.

Now two double doors swept open, a splendid hall showed itself illuminated by many torches, that reflected against the marble walls; in the middle stood a table. They sat, the wine sparkled in gold, the maidens sipped with rosy lips at the cups, and then passed them to the King; but Timur’s soul was sorrowful, he lowered his gaze, and all the grandeur, and all the beauty was lost on him. But when he opened his eyes he saw a figure at the corner of the hall opposite him, standing leaning on a pillar, she was all black and thickly covered, and remained always immobile. Timur observed her long and often, a deep longing drew him to her; the meal seemed to him unendingly long, and it was a relief to him when they rose.

The maidens left the hall, but each still sent him inviting looks, he followed none, and found himself at last alone with the black figure, the torches extinguished, only a single pale light glimmered through the hall. The black figure neared him, and spoke: “Follow me!” he obeyed; and she led him through strange underground corridors, to a cliff. The moon shone evenly in full light, and Timur recognized shuddering the cliff and the ocean down into which he had hurled Ermar. His guide threw back the veil. It was Thia. Spirit of my father! she cried, let this sacrifice appease you. She flung her arm around the King, and plunged with him down from the cliffs, so that their blood mixed, and smoked down to the heaving sea.

REFERENCES AND FURTHER READING

Allingham, Liesl. “Countermemory in Karoline von Günderrode’s ‘Darthula nach Ossian’: A Female Warrior, Her Unruly Breast, and the Construction of Her Myth.” Goethe Yearbook 21 (July 2014): 39–56. 

Barnaby, Paul . “Timeline of Ossian’s European Reception.” In The Reception of Ossian in Europe. Ed. Howard Gaskill, xxi–lxvii. London: Thoemes Continuum, 2004.

Bahr, Ehrhard. “‘Homer des Nordens’ und ‘Mutter der Romantik.’ James Macphersons Ossian und seine Rezeption in der deutschsprachigen Literature (review).” Goethe Yearbook 14 (2006): 250–251. 

Bahr, Ehrhard. “Ossian-Rezeption von Michael Denis bis Goethe: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des Primitivismus in Deutschland.” Goethe Yearbook 12 (2005): 1–15.

Bär, Gerald. “Ossian by Werther; Or, the ‘Respect for this Author.’” Journal for Eighteenth-Century Studies 39.2 (2016): 223–224.

Bär, Gerald. “‘Ossian fürs Frauenzimmer’? Lengefeld, Günderrode, and the Portuguese Translations of ‘Alcipe’ and Adelaide Prata.” Translation and Literature 22.3 (2013): 343–360.

Christmann, Ruth. Zwischen Identitätsgewinn und Bewußtseinsverlust. Das philosophisch-literarische Werk der Karoline von Günderrode (1780–1806). Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 2005.

Denis, Michael. Ossians und Sineds Lieder. Vol. 3. Vienna: Christian Friedrich Wappler, 1784. 

Ezekiel, Anna C. Introduction to Hildgund. In Poetic Fragments, by Karoline von Günderrode. 39–57. Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2016.

Ezekiel, Anna, ed. and trans. Karoline von Günderrode: Philosophical Writings. New York: Oxford University Press, forthcoming January-March 2026.

Gaskill, Howard. “Introduction: ‘Genuine Poetry… Like Gold.’” In The Reception of Ossian in Europe. Ed. Howard Gaskill, 1–20. London: Thoemes Continuum, 2004.

Günderrode, Karoline von. “Karoline von Günderrode, ‘The Apparition,’” trans. Anna Ezekiel. Trail of Crumbs. November 2020.

Günderrode, Karoline von. “Karoline von Günderrode, ‘Musa,’” trans. Anna Ezekiel. Trail of Crumbs. January 2021.

Günderrode, Karoline von. Sämtliche Werke und ausgewählte Studien. Historisch-Kritische Ausgabe. Ed. Walter Morgenthaler. 3 Vols. Basel, Frankfurt am Main: Stroemfeld/Roter Stern, 1990–1991.

Günderrode, Karoline von. “Temora (1804),” trans. Jeannine Blackwell. In The Queen’s Mirror: Fairy Tales by German Women, 1780–1900. Ed. Shawn C. Jarvis and Jeannine Blackwell. Lincoln, London: University of Nebraska Press, 2001.

Harold, Edmund von. Die Gedichte Ossians eines alten celtischen Helden und Barden. Vol. 2. Düsseldorf: 1775.

Jung, Sandro. “The Reception and Reworking of Ossian in Klopstock’s Hermanns Schlacht.” In The Reception of Ossian in Europe. Ed. Howard Gaskill, 143–155. London: Thoemes Continuum, 2004.

Krimmer, Elizabeth. “Karoline von Günderrode’s Mora and Darthula According to Ossian and Other Excerpts.” In The Company of Men: Cross-Dressed Women Around 1800. Ed. Elizabeth Krimmer, 130–139. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2004. 

Lamport, F. J. “The Reception of Ossian in Europe (Review).” Comparative Critical Studies 3.3 (2006): 202–240.

Licher, Lucia Maria. Mein Leben in einer bleibenden Form aussprechen. Umrisse einer Ästhetik im Werk Karoline von Günderrodes (1780–1806). Heidelberg: Winter, 1996.

Mackinnon, Donald. “The Glenmasan Manuscript (with Translation).” The Celtic Review 1.1 (1904): 4, 6.

Macpherson, James. Morison’s Edition of the Poems of Ossian, the Son of Fingal, Translated by James Macpherson, Esq., Carefully Corrected, and Greatly Improved. Vol 1. Perth: R. Morison Jr, for R. Morison & Son, 1795.

Macpherson, James. Morison’s Edition of the Poems of Ossian, the Son of Fingal, Translated by James Macpherson, Esq., Carefully Corrected, and Greatly Improved. Vol 2. Perth: R. Morison Jr, for R. Morison & Son, 1795.

Macpherson, James. The Poems of Ossian: A New Edition, Carefully Corrected, and Greatly Improved. 2 Vols. London: W. Strahand and T. Becket, 1773.

Mulholland, James . “James Macpherson’s Ossian Poems, Oral Traditions, and the Invention of Voice.” Oral Tradition 24.2 (2009): 393–414.

Schmidt, Wolf Gerhard. “‘Menschlichschön’ und ‘Kolossalisch’: The Discursive Function of Ossian in Schiller’s Poetry and Aesthetics.” In The Reception of Ossian in Europe. Ed. Howard Gaskill, 176–198. London: Thoemes Continuum, 2004.

Westphal, Wolfgang. Karoline von Günderrode und “Naturdenken um 1800.” Essen: Die Blaue Eule, 1993. 

[1] In 1773 Macpherson published a revised, complete edition of his works as The Poems of Ossian: A New Edition, Carefully Corrected, and Greatly Improved, 2 vols (London: W. Strahand and T. Becket, 1773), and references in this chapter are to a 1795 edition of this collection: Morison’s Edition of the Poems of Ossian, the Son of Fingal, Translated by James Macpherson, Esq., Carefully Corrected, and Greatly Improved, 2 vols (Perth: R. Morison Jr, for R. Morison & Son, 1795).

[2] The degree to which the poems are Macpherson’s creations vs. authentic folk tales is still controversial. See James Mulholland, “James Macpherson’s Ossian Poems, Oral Traditions, and the Invention of Voice,” Oral Tradition 24.2 (2009): 393–414; F. J. Lamport, “The Reception of Ossian in Europe (Review),” Comparative Critical Studies 3.3 (2006): 202–240.

[3] Donald Mackinnon, “The Glenmasan Manuscript (with Translation),” The Celtic Review 1.1 (1904): 4, 6.

[4] Paul Barnaby, “Timeline of Ossian’s European Reception,” in The Reception of Ossian in Europe, ed. Howard Gaskill (London: Thoemes Continuum, 2004), xxii.

[5] Ehrhard Bahr, “‘Homer des Nordens’ und ‘Mutter der Romantik.’ James Macphersons Ossian und seine Rezeption in der deutschsprachigen Literature (review),” Goethe Yearbook 14 (2006): 250; Bahr, “Ossian-Rezeption von Michael Denis bis Goethe: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des Primitivismus in Deutschland,” Goethe Yearbook 12 (2005): 1–15; Gerald Bär, “‘Ossian fürs Frauenzimmer’? Lengefeld, Günderrode, and the Portuguese Translations of ‘Alcipe’ and Adelaide Prata,” Translation and Literature 22.3 (2013): 343–360; Sandro Jung, “The Reception and Reworking of Ossian in Klopstock’s Hermanns Schlacht,” in Gaskill, ed., Reception of Ossian, 143–155.

[6] Bahr, “Ossian-Rezeption”; Gerald Bär, “Ossian by Werther; Or, the ‘Respect for this Author,’” Journal for Eighteenth-Century Studies 39.2 (2016): 223–224; Howard Gaskill, “Introduction: ‘Genuine Poetry… Like Gold,’” in Reception of Ossian, 19; Wolf Gerhard Schmidt, “‘Menschlichschön’ und ‘Kolossalisch’: The Discursive Function of Ossian in Schiller’s Poetry and Aesthetics,” in Gaskill, ed., Reception of Ossian in Europe, 176.

[7] Bär, “Ossian fürs Frauenzimmer?”; Gaskill, Introduction, 5–7.

[8] Gaskill, Introduction, 4–5.

[9] Karoline von Günderrode, Sämtliche Werke und ausgewählte Studien. Historisch-Kritische Ausgabe, ed. Walter Morgenthaler (Basel, Frankfurt am Main: Stroemfeld/Roter Stern, 1990–1991), vol. 3, 69.

[10] Günderrode, Sämtliche Werke, vol. 3, 72–73.

[11] Michael Denis, Ossians und Sineds Lieder, vol. 3 (Vienna: Christian Friedrich Wappler, 1784), 49–68; Edmund von Harold, Die Gedichte Ossians eines alten celtischen Helden und Barden, vol. 2 (Düsseldorf, 1775), 180–201; see Günderrode, Sämtliche Werke, vol. 3, 69–70. However, Gerald Bär argues that, other than Harold’s text, the evidence for which translations Günderrode used is inconclusive, although she clearly used more than one (Bär, “Ossian fürs Frauenzimmer?”).

[12] Liesl Allingham and Elizabeth Krimmer, among others, have explored Günderrode’s use of Ossian’s trope of the female warrior to challenge gender boundaries. Allingham, “Countermemory in Karoline von Günderrode’s ‘Darthula nach Ossian’: A Female Warrior, Her Unruly Breast, and the Construction of Her Myth,” Goethe Yearbook 21 (July 2014): 39–56; Krimmer, “Karoline von Günderrode’s Mora and Darthula According to Ossian and Other Excerpts,” in The Company of Men: Cross-Dressed Women Around 1800 (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2004), 130–139.

[13] Ruth Christmann, Zwischen Identitätsgewinn und Bewußtseinsverlust. Das philosophisch-literarische Werk der Karoline von Günderrode (1780–1806) (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 2005), 122, 135; Wolfgang Westphal, Karoline von Günderrode und “Naturdenken um 1800” (Essen: Die Blaue Eule, 1993), 25, 45.

[14] Bär, “Ossian fürs Frauenzimmer?”; Gaskill, Introduction.

[15] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 2, 18.

[16] E.g., Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 218; Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 31.

[17] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 180, 267, 307.

[18] Ossian’s characters include Frothal (King of Scandinavia), Torlath, Carmor, and Morna, as well as a bard called Carril, who may correspond to Günderrode’s Karul in “Mora.” Ossian also mentions a chief, Car-ul. Another chief, Ton-thormod, may have inspired the name of Günderrode’s bard Thormod.

[19] See Allingham, “Countermemory”; Krimmer, “Mora and Darthula,” 135.

[20] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 212–213, 216–220.

[21] Additions by Günderrode that do this include: “Ah! and fear is watchful of my love”; “But Cairbar’s love will not let me”; “Darthula has no one except you,” “There shadows of sorrow surrounded me. / The figures of my friends went, / Sadly, like spirits, from me”; “Thus Colla; his words fanned / Higher still in me the battle’s courage”; “Where Darthula! where is rest for you? / Spirits of the fallen! spoke Darthula: / Truthil! Colla! Leaders of Selma! / Beckon to me from your clouds!”; “Father! I will be worthy of you.”

[22] Additions of this kind include: “Now the waves have you”; “around Darthula’s gravemound / Their harps rustled around the hill, / And song’s wing swung[.]”

[23] Additions of this kind include: “Beautiful above all was Colla’s daughter”; “Night surrounds your beautiful face”; “You lovely, you beautiful light”; “For the maiden, Erin’s most beautiful! you!”; “Beautiful-haired! will you rest long?”

[24] For a more detailed discussion of Günderrode’s “Hildgund,” see Anna C. Ezekiel, Introduction to Hildgund, in Poetic Fragments, by Karoline von Günderrode (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2016), 39–57.

[25] E.g., “Fingal, ein Heldengedicht in sechs Büchern,” in Denis, Ossians und Sineds Lieder, vol. 1, 5–116; “Ithona,” in Denis, Ossians und Sineds Lieder, vol. 3, 111–118. In the first book of “Fingal,” Morna, daughter of Cormac, is in love with the warrior Cathbat, who has been killed in battle by Duchomar. Duchomar finds Morna where she is resting in a cave and professes his love for her, but also boasts of having killed Cathbat. Morna asks Duchomar for his sword and uses it to kill him; before dying, he asks her to pull out the cold sword, after which he takes it and kills her (Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 1–22). Somewhat similarly, in Book 5 of “Fingal,” Gelchossa, daughter of Tuathal, falls in love with the chief Lamderg but is carried off by the fierce Ullin. Lamderg pursues them and he and Ullin kill each other, after which Gelchossa also dies, presumably of grief (Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 64–87). Lastly, in “Oithona,” the title character is carried off by the chief Dunrommath, who hides her in a cave. Oithona’s betrothed, Gaul, finds them, attacks Dunrommath and his men, and kills him. Oithona, who wants to die because of her loss of honour, secretly arms herself and is killed in the battle (Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 291–300).

[26] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 2, 55–56.

[27] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 124–32.

[28] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 240–41, 243–46.

[29] Macpherson, Temora; Jeannine Blackwell, trans., “Temora (1804),” in The Queen’s Mirror: Fairy Tales by German Women, 1780–1900, ed. Shawn C. Jarvis and Jeannine Blackwell (Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 2001), 103.

[30] “Calthon und Colmala,” in Denis, Ossians und Sineds Lieder, vol. 2, 196–204; “Calthon und Comal. Ein Gedicht,” in Harold, Die Gedichte Ossians, vol. 1, 1–18.

[31] Macpherson, Morison’s Edition, vol. 1, 5, 38.

[32] For example, this was how Goethe rendered the spelling in his “Book of Timur” in West-östlicher Divan, published in 1819.

[33] Licher, Lucia Maria, Mein Leben in einer bleibenden Form aussprechen. Umrisse einer Ästhetik im Werk Karoline von Günderrodes (1780–1806) (Heidelberg: Winter, 1996), 191.

[34] For a translation of and commentary on “Musa,” see Karoline von Günderrode, “Karoline von Günderrode, ‘Musa,’” trans. Anna Ezekiel, Trail of Crumbs (January 2021).

[35] For a translation of and commentary on “The Apparition,” see Karoline von Günderrode, “Karoline von Günderrode, ‘The Apparition,’” trans. Anna Ezekiel, Trail of Crumbs (November 2020).

[36] For a translation of and commentary on “The Frank in Egypt,” see Anna Ezekiel, ed. and trans., Karoline von Günderrode: Philosophical Writings (New York: Oxford University Press, forthcoming January-March 2026).

Related Posts Leave a comment Cancel reply

Δdocument.getElementById( "ak_js_1" ).setAttribute( "value", ( new Date() ).getTime() );

Follow Trail of Crumbs

Get new content delivered directly to your inbox. Occasional entries on historical women philosophers, expanding the canon, and related topics in philosophy, literature, and fine arts.

Subscribe

LinkedInBluesky

Guest posts on historical German women philosophers at the Genealogies of Modernity project.