Clare Dudman’s second novel was published in 2004 and, because it was set in my onetime home of Frankfurt am Main, I purchased it. I finally read it this summer because I was travelling back to the city. I’m now kicking myself for leaving the book to collect dust for so long. It introduced me to Heinrich Hoffmann of Struwwelpeter fame. The focus, however, is not on his career as a children’s author, but on his day job – that of a nineteenth century psychiatrist and founder of the magnificent Frankfurt asylum, Am Affenstein.

Am Affenstein, Frankfurt am Main (Demolished in the 1920s)
Grand, isn’t it? Dudman’s novel charts the fight Hoffmann had to secure funding to build an asylum that was just that – an asylum in the green belt, a refuge from the cramped and unsanitary conditions of the town (as it was then) centre. It documents too other struggles in Hoffmann’s life: troubles at home with his socially ambitious wife; with his eldest son, Carl Heinz, the son for whom he wrote Struwwelpeter, who ironically had undiagnosed psychological issues of his own (possibly ADHD?). Struggles too with the limitations of nineteeth century psychiatric treatment or should that read psychiatric torture? One patient is given a cold bath which continues until she enters a state of hypothermic shock. A nineteenth century transvestite is driven to suicide by the lack of understanding when all his worldly goods are confiscated and he is locked in a room deprived of anything that gives him pleasure. That said Hoffmann is not uncaring. This suicide is a devastating blow for a doctor whose patients are his 98 Reasons for Being. No wonder he was afflicted at times by bitter experience and self-doubt.
The catalyst for improvement in Hoffmann’s skill is a young Jewish girl, Hannah Meyer. She is admitted suffering, allegedly, from nymphomania. She’s in a deep depression, withdrawn. In the asylum she is subjected to a variety of treatments (including the previously mentioned cold bath) although nothing is effective. It is only when Hoffmann begins to talk to her of his own troubles that she begins to respond by revealing her own story. Thus, by accident, does Hoffmann discover the foundation stone of modern psychiatric treatment.
When I visited the Struwwelpeter Museum in Frankfurt last month, I discovered the links between Hoffmann’s practice and the Struwwelpeter stories. For example, Kaspar who refuses to eat his soup inspired by cases of anorexia. Dudman cleverly inverts these connections by structuring her plot quite unobstrusively around the Struwwelpeter poems. As the poems pop up as epilogues to each of her chapters, this structure becomes clear and her novel becomes a celebration of Hoffmann as both pyschiatrist and author.
There are as many pages devoted to the asylum assistants as to the inmates. While this is , at first, surprising, it soon becomes clear that the assistants have their own issues. That the transition from assistant to patient is only a step away. It also allows the novel to focus on other social issues, ones that force these people to take the jobs in the first place. So too, the creation of the Jewish girl, Hannah, permits Dudman to include the history of German anti-Semitism.
The novel is written using a variety of styles. There are newspaper cuttings, excerpts from council meetings, third and first person narratives and, of course, the inclusion of the Struwwelpeter poems. Each chapter subdivided into unnumbered sections and, with the exception of Hannah’s voice (which is italicised) I did find it difficult to keep track for the first 3 chapters. Of course, it didn’t help that I was reading in snatches during my bursts of sightseeing around Frankfurt. Eventually, though, the pieces of the jigsaw joined together and I found myself thoroughly absorbed. Emotionally attached and in places quite tearful. This novel works as a story and is a fine example of historical fiction. ![]()
98 Reasons for Being is now, unfortunately, out of print. However, I’ve secured a very special giveaway. Come to tomorrow’s Sunday Salon for more details of that and a interview with Clare Dudman herself.












































Der Struwwelpeter auf Englisch - Translated by Mark Twain



















Mystic Pig - Richard Katrovas

























The Latin American Challenge

1. The Blue Fox

Thank you Lizzy! That’s such a kind and thoughtful review of my book. I’m delighted.
I will try to remember to look in tomorrow! I read Wegener’s Jigsaw, mainly because I am related to Alfred Wegener (albeit in some distant way – my great-grandmother was a Wegener, I think…my Dad has worked it all out, anyway, but enough of a connection to give me an interest!). I loved that, and have had 98 Reasons for Being on my Amazon wishlist for a while…
Will look forward to the interview! (Clare, do you have a German connection? I had better wait for the interview, I suppose!)
Exciting, Evie! I’ll put you on my post-Wegener’s-Jigsaw interview list, shall I? It’s no surprise that WJ has joined my TBR. I shall make sure not to leave it there for 5 years.
[...] 98 Reasons for Being – Clare [...]
[...] Reasons for Being, by Clare Dudman, at Lizzy’s Literary Life (ends Aug 15, [...]
Lizzy – it’s always stood me in good stead – people are often genuinely impressed that I am related to the man who discovered continental drift! My Dad did give the impression, as we were growing up, that the relationship was a bit more direct, and it was only when I read Clare’s book that I realised I couldn’t be a direct descendant.
Another ancestor was one of JS Bach’s godparents, so I feel I am related to German royalty in various ways!
Thanks for bringing this book back to my attention, it’s probably partly due to lazy ‘will get round to it one day’ people like me that the book has gone out of print, as it languishes on my virtual TBR shelf rather than on my actual one…
Lizzy, I hope you don’t mind me having a chat with Evie here, but find it fascinating you’re related to the great man. I have actually stayed with Wegener’s grandson in a schloss in Bavaria. He now owns his own brewery (produces very good beer) and he used to be a geophysicist but never admitted that his grandfather was Alfred Wegener during his career! He also shares Wegener’s passion for ballooning – although his are the hot air sort rather than hydrogen.
Wegener’s eldest daughter died soon after Wegener did, shortly after getting married, which must have been dreadfully hard for the family, and last I heard the middle daughter was still alive. Else, Wegener’s wife lived until she was a 100years old. The youngest daughter was married to a famous mountaineer, Heinrich Harrer who wrote an autobiographical book called 7 years in Tibet which was made into a film starring Brad Pitt. When war broke out he was mountaineering in the Himalayas and escaped to Tibet and became good friends with the lama. He died only recently.
Another relative of yours may be the acclaimed film maker Paul (?) Wegener (who I have heard was one of Alfred Wegener’s cousins).
Since writing the book I have also heard from Loewe’s daughter (if you remember he was left at Eismitte with frostbite over winter). He also had an interesting life and she is thinking of writing his biography too.
Evie – I’ve just realised I forgot to answer your question. No, I have no German connection, I’m afraid, but I am highly impressed by yours!
Do carry on conversing. No problem as long as you don’t mind me eavesdropping.
Hello Clare, thanks so much for your comment, I have been racing around a bit and not looking at this site and have only just found it. Lovely to know something more about his family. It did enhance my enjoyment of your book, knowing I had some kind of family connection with Wegener.
I remember reading Seven Years in Tibet as a teenager and finding it wonderful – I still haven’t seen the film, partly because the book made such an impression. It’s so interesting to know that Harrer married one of Wegener’s daughters.
I must talk to my father and have a good look at our family tree, which he has been working on for several years, and see exactly how I am related to the Wegeners. I have shown far less interest in it all than my father hoped, but I must take a closer look.
I am very interested in the beer too!! I love German beer. A good alternative to geophysics, I would say!
I shall look up Paul Wegener too – many thanks for all this info, it’s great!
In the strange way of the internet I wandered here, and as a sometime reader of Clare Dudman’s blog, I was wondering what her books were like, and now I’m going to seek one out.
But this comment thread/discussion, interchange, whatever, really interest me. I like to read novels built around threads of reality, history and science. The story of Wegener rather appeals to me, as described here, but then the connections…. As a young boy, I suffered badly from asthma, and was often confined to bed for weeks at a time. The drug regime was not very effective at all, and my escape from pain was in reading. Luckily, my parents have always been readers, and there was a good library of hundreds of books to work on. of course, these were not children’s books, I ran out of them pretty soon, and started on Brogger and Shetelig’s discourses on Viking ships, and burial mounds… Then to Shackleton and Scott, I struggled with them through the pack ice, with Hillary and Tensing Norgay up to the summit of Everest, then………. Heinrich Harrer. He took me to Thibet, into the rooms of the Potala palace, we talked with the boy king, repaired generators, had yak-butter in our tea.
A lot of years have passed since then. Like Evie, I have not seen the film. I feel it would usurp, overlay, and spoil the images I have in my mind from Heinrich Harrer’s book.
So, thank you, Lizzy for your book reviews, I shall read a few more, and thank you, Evie and Clare, and I shall read your books, Clare, and I’m particularly interested in the one yet to be published. My mother tells me I have relatives in Patagonia, her father had family who emigrated there. He escaped the south wales coalminer’s life by signing on to the square-riggers, and becoming a deep ocean sailor, a cape horner.
Sadly, I can’t find a lot of information, there was an uncle who had a shipyard in Valparaiso, and there are several Griffithses there still.
So I promise I’ll be buying Clare’s Patagonian novel.
Hello soubriquet. Nice to meet you and thank you for your personal experiences. I’m glad that something positive – your love of books and literature – came out of your childhood pain and I trust we’ll meet again to discuss Clare’s Patagonian novel.
Hello from me too, Soubriquet! And Hello to Lizzy again.
Sometimes I think people learn more by being ill and reading than going to school. It depends on the materil of course, but yours sounds very good!
I’m really interested to read about your relative too – there’s quite a lot of information on the people that initially went over on the Mimosa in places like this: https://wiki.familysearch.org/en/The_Mimosa
I can’t see a Griffiths though – maybe that relative went over later. Looks like several had a similar background though – they had such hard lives.
Apologies if you’ve come across this already. I love stuff like this and could spend ages poring over the names and imagining…
Lizzy, the childhood reading thing may have become a bit of a curse, as i have a terrible addiction to books. One summer evening, chatting with nearby neighbours, after we’d all rushed out following a big bang, as a joyrider slammed into a paked car, the neighbours said “Ahhhh! You’re the book-man!”.
This might be because all people in the outside world can see looking up at my window is three walls of books.
they can’t see the boxes of books, or the three walls of books in the bedroom, or the books in the bathroom, hallway, or the boxes of books in the cellar. Oh. And in the kitchen too. And not just cookbooks.
I keep trying to persuade nyself to cull my library, after all, there are books in there I wasn’t in the least impressed by, and will certainly never read again, but I’m not sure it’s morally acceptable to inflict them on others via charity shops.
Junking books as recycling feedstock is not something I feel able to do either.
Oh. And as you see, I have no ability to be succinct.
Clare, thanks for the link, I’ll go there now.
Wonderful, soubriquet, just wonderful!