One of the things that's so wonderful about postcards as documents of social history is that people of every economic and social status sent them - from royalty and world rulers to farmers, laborers, and housemaids. Children just learning to write sent cards to each other and to relatives. Old people sent them too. If you were somehow able to pull all of these cards together, you would have an amazing collection of first-hand accounts of world and local events, epidemics, and trends in fashion and technology, all from varied individual perspectives. Along with this, you would also get a sense of their values, daily routines, interests, and education.
If you have a collection of cards to or from one person, that's where it can get very interesting as you try to piece together the events that shaped their lives. I bought a collection of about 100 cards sent to a young German woman named Trinchen von Oesen over a span of years from 1909 to 1926. I wondered at her ever-changing addresses, inevitably in care of someone else. I speculated that she had been a domestic servant of some kind. With the help of genealogical information, I was able to confirm that this was indeed the case. Her social status did not prevent her from sending and receiving lots of beautiful cards, including real-photo cards of herself and family members, as well as co-workers.
Based on the other photos I have, I believe that Trinchen (pronounced Treen-shen) is the one in the middle. She was born in 1892, so she would have been about 23 in this picture. It's hard to see, but there's a sign above the door that says 'Wilkommen.' The three young women, with their well-worn shoes, likely worked at a guesthouse in the vicinity of Bremen.
This is a somewhat earlier picture. I think Trinchen may be the third from the right. The card was sent in 1911, so she would have been about 19 at the time.
The second card was sent from her sister Lina, although the handwriting, as on many of these cards, is very difficult to decipher. Trinchen also received many cards from her twin brothers Karl and Hermann from home and as they went off to fight in World War I. I know that Karl returned, but I suspect that Hermann did not.
Here are the backs of the cards in the same order. Once I learn to read this Suetterlin handwriting (any day now), I will have a translation for this.
The second card from her sister is a discussion of keys, in particular keys for Trinchen's chest of drawers and for a safe of some kind. She is requesting that Trinchen bring all the keys she has when she visits.
If you want to observe more people at work (as you relax this weekend), head over to Sepia Saturday.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
De qui ce joli poisson?
Who sent you this lovely fish? That's often the question when it comes to the first day of April and the French tradition of April fish. People in France don't do it much anymore, but they used to send each other cards with fish on them accompanied by messages of affection. Often the card included only a simple message, such as 'guess who.' I have posted many of these Poisson d'Avril cards over the past few years. If you go back to the first post, you can read about the history and traditions of the holiday.
I love these cards because the combination of fish and romance seems so unlikely, but then again, it's fish, romance, and humor - the best combination.
Here are the backs of the first card and the last card.
I love these cards because the combination of fish and romance seems so unlikely, but then again, it's fish, romance, and humor - the best combination.
Here are the backs of the first card and the last card.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
To Monsieur Narischkine from Nice
Yesterday's post on trams in Nice, France made me want to post another non-tram postcard of Nice. There are so many wonderful details on this card, some of them undiscovered since I do not speak Russian. If there are any Russian speakers out there who can provide a translation, I would be very grateful, because the back of this card seems to have just as much going for it as the front.
The front of the card shows the fairly typical scene of Nice, with well-dressed people out for a stroll.
It would be easy to overlook some of the added elements, such as the man with the balloon.
There's also the woman (?) on the left-hand side of the card with the umbrella.
And then there's the kiosk, selling magazines and newspapers from all over the world.
The front of the card shows the fairly typical scene of Nice, with well-dressed people out for a stroll.
It would be easy to overlook some of the added elements, such as the man with the balloon.
There's also the woman (?) on the left-hand side of the card with the umbrella.
And then there's the kiosk, selling magazines and newspapers from all over the world.
And finally, there's the back of the card. The message is written in Russian, so I can't begin to decipher it, but it is addressed to Mr. Narischkine at Palazzo Galitzine in Rome. Who is this Mr. Narischkine and what is Palazzo Galitzine?
I found a reference in the New York Times, February, 1918 referring to a Prince Cyril Narischkine and his marriage to opera star Genevieve Vix. This doesn't guarantee that our postcard recipient is Cyril Narishkine, but the address of the card at Palazzo Galitzine in Rome is another clue. The Galitzine (Golitsyn) family was also a noble family of Russia with hereditary connections to the Narishkine family. It's also possible that our recipient was M.B. Narischkine, who liquidated an extensive art collection in 1883. That's where that Russian translation might help.
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