From her father Charlotte inherits a dilapidated castle near the small German town Bonn. The castle is encumbered with debt, most of the inventory is pledged. Five ghosts who live in the ... See full summary »
When violent conflict breaks out between greedy railroaders and a tribe of Mescalero Apaches, only two men, destined to be blood brothers, can prevent all-out war: chief's son Winnetou and German engineer Old Shatterhand.
Otto, a young man from East-Frisia comes to the big city (Hamburg) to make his fortune. Most of all he is engaged with two problems: How can he impress Silvia, a rich young girl, and where ... See full summary »
Sky du Mont
A stranger in a Western cattle-town behaves with remarkable self-assurance, establishing himself as a man to be reckoned with. The reason appears with his stock: a herd of sheep, which he ... See full summary »
When a handful of settlers survive an Apache attack on their wagon train they must put their lives into the hands of Comanche Todd, a white man who has lived with the Comanches most of his ... See full summary »
Around the year 1000 AD warlike people, the so-called "tjuder", roam in northern Scandinavia. As they brutally kill a family in a remote area, including the parents and their little ... See full summary »
A mysterious diver hiding in Amsterdam's canal system embarks on a rampage of gruesome murders, terrifying city officials and leaving few clues for the city's best detective, who doesn't ... See full summary »
Monique van de Ven,
Over half a century ago, when I was 19, my friend Per Sinats took me to see a film he had seen once before: "Ich Denke Oft an Piroschke" ("I Often Think of Piroschke"). Most of the film has faded in my memory, but I remember the first glimpse the feckless young hero and I got of Liselotte Pulver in Hungarian peasant's garb standing in some outdoor setting - a farmer's field perhaps? - smiling at us both. THAT'S the archetypal image I keep in my heart - a natural beauty, an open, welcoming smile, an invitation to a summer of love.
Per and I were both smitten with Liselotte Pulver, aka Piroshka, and went to any movie she was in, though we never quite re-captured the fresh, guileless Hungarian peasant girl.
That was in the autumn. By the next springtime I had a real-life German girlfriend, Rose, who at 19 was as open, trusting, and willing to love as Piroshka. Perhaps not as beautiful, but then, who was? Not even Liselotte Pulver herself, I daresay, except on celluloid. Suffice it to say that Rose pleased me.
But like Hans in the movie I left Germany after a year with no plans to return, and when I next ran into Rose I was forty, and married. And the next time I was sixty, and divorced, but with another woman in tow. And finally, last summer, seventy-one and once again single.
Rose never married - never WANTED to marry, she avers, for fear of losing her independence, her chance at the satisfying career that in fact she has had. But had I been the love of her life, as she once wrote in a letter? Had my abandonment of her ruined her life, or had it, rather, allowed her to have the life she wanted?
In any case our six-day reunion was sweet, and I spent another two weeks with her at Xmas, and plan on going back again.
She is deeply rooted in the town where she was born, in the house she inherited from her parents, on a hillside overlooking the Neckar river a few miles east of Heidelberg. She has friends who married Americans and who after decades here still regret leaving Germany. Despite my fondness for Germany I don't want to live there, and she won't even fly to visit me in far-off Alaska, so I must fly there if I want to see her again, and I do.
The friendship is sweet, and preserves some of that fantasy the movie captured - that somewhere out there is the perfect lover, eternally young, smiling at us from a field of shimmering wheat, giving everything and asking nothing of us except what we willingly have to give. And so I still often think of "Ich Denke Oft an Piroschke."
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?