It is imperative to me and my writing to remember the women who have been forgotten by mainstream history, which, for way too long now, has been written, archived and reproduced as a mainly patriarchal construct and narrative. The official history that we learn at school or see presented across the media landscape is, for the most part, his-story. We learn about “important dates, important events and important men” and conveniently forget everything else.
That official history is as much about erasing multiplicity as it is about identity-formation is something I know as a novelist coming from Turkey, a country which has a long, layered and rich history, but a surprisingly feeble and flimsy memory. To be a writer in a society of collective amnesia means to have to become an archaeologist— a linguistic and cultural archaeologist. You have to dig deep through the mound of amnesia to find the silenced stories of women. The remains. The ruins. The remnants.
So I was thinking today is a good day to remember a woman hidden in history.
Why not start the week by remembering Salomé?
Her name was Lou Andreas Salomé. Born in 1861, Saint Petersburg, died in 1937 Göttingen.
The brilliance of her mind and spirit, the depth of her intellect, her perspicacity, sagacity and courage were extraordinary, and yet today, in literary and cultural circles, she is remembered (if she is to be remembered at all) as “The Muse who inspired some of our most formidable male writers”. With all the good intentions it may be, she is reduced to a caricature, a one-dimensional, grotesque image mixed with fantasy.
Salomé: the seductress who broke the philosopher Nietzsche’s heart into a thousand little pieces. (Thus Spoke Zarathustra was composed for her)
Salomé: The temptress who enchanted the poet Rainer Maria Rilke to such an extent that she made him change his name! (He also dedicated his Book of Hours to her)
Salomé: The enchantress who ensnared the writer Paul Ree.
Salomé: The disciple of Sigmund Freud who dazzled him with her beauty.
Salomé, the Muse, the femme fatale who played off important men against each other.
If you read these accounts you might easily believe that Andreas-Salomé had no personality of her own. She was merely a surface, a polished mirror to reflect male genius back to its owners. The only purpose of her existence was to inspire important men to write important books.
Her story needs to be known. Her contribution to world history, not a distorted version of it through the prism of patriarchy.
Andreas-Salomé was the world’s first female psychoanalyst. She was a remarkable writer, novelist, intellectual and philosopher. Over two decades she corresponded with Freud and these letters have been published, although I cannot say that they have received enough attention. The breadth of her knowledge was fascinating, and her focus on interdisciplinary studies groundbreaking. But perhaps most importantly she was an independent mind at a time when women were not even supposed to have opinions of their own.
We need to stop calling her the woman who inspired writers and philosophers and psychoanalysts. Only when we dismantle the duality of men as “the creator” and female as “the dainty Muse”, can we begin to realise that here is a woman who was a brilliant thinker in her own right, not in connection to the men around her.
So this essay is a little salute, a heartfelt tribute to the remarkable Lou Andreas-Salomé.
You have described the 'muse' syndrome perfectly! In a similar way, I am trying to correct the historical neglect of women artists in the surrealist movement with my Substack The Fur Cup and my novel, coming this autumn. I plan to add more info to my Substack and thought I might use 'From Muse to Maker' as a title, which could also apply to the change to Lou Andreas Salome's reputation that you are helping to effect by writing about her here. Bravo!
Anyone who influenced both Nietzshe and Freud deserves to be studied and understood. To consign Salome to being a footnote to the ground breaking work of both men is an incredible sin of omission. Bravo Elif!