There is a need that connects people across time and social boundaries: we want to belong – to a family, a community, a society that acknowledges us. In Die Judenfürstin (The Jewish Princess) by Ulrich Henze, this longing becomes, in an unusual way, an invisible bond between two people whose lives could hardly be more different: Princess Amalie von Gallitzin and Jakob Löw.
One possesses a great name, social rank, and a house where educated personalities meet. The other is a young Jew from the poverty-stricken north of the Prince-Bishopric of Münster, traveling without official permission. And yet, both experience what it means to belong and yet be on the outside.
A princess who suddenly stands alone
At first glance, Amalie von Gallitzin hardly seems an outsider. She is privileged, highly educated, and the center of an intellectual circle in Münster. Yet she lives unconventionally, holds her own convictions, and does not readily meet the expectations that her time places on a woman of her standing.
When the rumor arises that she is hiding a young Jew from the authorities, her status changes. People who belong to her social world distance themselves. Existing prejudices merge with the disapproval of her lifestyle. The Princess experiences how fragile belonging can be once a community begins to stop viewing a person as one of its own.
Anyone wishing to learn more about the historical figure behind the novel's character will find further background in our article on Amalie von Gallitzin and her unusual life in the Age of Enlightenment.
Jakob seeks more than just a safe place
Jakob Löw's starting point is entirely different. As a Jew in the Prince-Bishopric, he is subject to restrictive minority policies. Without official permission, he sets off, hoping to reach France. There, as he has heard, people of the Jewish faith have been granted legal equality following the Revolution.
His journey is therefore more than an escape from difficult circumstances. It becomes a search for a life in which origin and religion do not dictate the opportunities open to a person. For Jakob, Paris represents the hope for freedom, equality, and social participation.
Two outsiders – without a single encounter
This is precisely where one of the novel's cleverest constructions lies: Amalie and Jakob never meet. The Princess does not know the young man she is supposedly hiding. Jakob, in turn, learns of her without ever having the opportunity to meet her personally.
In an interview with the publisher, Ulrich Henze summarizes this connection in a remarkably simple sentence: “Both are fundamentally different, yet at the same time connected by their status as outsiders.”
This is more than a narrative device. Amalie experiences exclusion even though she actually belongs socially. Jakob experiences it because the order of the time does not treat him as an equal member of society from the outset. The novel thus shows two very different forms of being an outsider in a historical novel – and allows them to correspond with one another without forcing the characters together.
The quiet fear of no longer belonging
Perhaps this constellation touches us because it addresses something not limited to the year 1792. Belonging provides security. We want to be accepted, heard, and perceived as part of a community. The experience of suddenly standing on the outside is all the more profound.
Historical novels can tell such human experiences particularly poignantly. The foreign era creates distance – and it is precisely this distance that sometimes allows a surprisingly clear view of feelings that are familiar to us. In the interview, Henze formulates a similar thought: history is not just a collection of dates and years, but always the story of people as well.
Thus, Die Judenfürstin tells not only of the Enlightenment, antisemitism, and the social conditions of the late 18th century. The novel also tells of recognition and rejection, of the desire for self-determination, and of the question of how much inner strength is needed when a society contests the place a person claims for themselves.
Dr. Ulrich Henze does not turn this question into an abstract message, but tells it through two paths of life that never cross and yet remain connected. Perhaps that is precisely where the special impact of his story lies: in the end, we not only think about who was allowed to belong in 1792 – but inevitably also about what belonging means for us personally.
The book is available in German language as a printed paperback (ISBN 978-3-910347-93-9) and as an EPUB (ISBN 978-3-910347-94-6) in bookstores or here in the publisher's shop.
