German Problems and Personalities — Story, Setting & Ideas

A Polemical Voice and Its Targets

Sarolea’s language is consistently combative. He describes Frederick the Great as a “Mephistophelian figure” and a “Condottiere of the Italian Renascence.” The tone is moralistic: Frederick’s upbringing “killed in him every finer feeling,” and his reign is a “schooling in hypocrisy, brutality, and depravity.” This is not a detached academic study; Sarolea writes to condemn. He singles out Carlyle’s biography of Frederick as “one of the most mischievous masterpieces of English literature,” attributing it to Carlyle’s “Gallophobia.” The author’s own stance is overtly pro-Allied, and he frequently addresses the reader as if in a courtroom, building a case against German militarism. The excerpts show a pattern of strong judgment: words like “sinister,” “accursed,” and “cynic” recur, and Sarolea rarely offers nuance when he can deliver a verdict.

The Structure of Accusation

The book’s organization reflects its argumentative purpose. After an introduction that establishes Sarolea’s prophetic credentials, chapters move from general forecasts to specific attacks. The chapter “The Curse of the Hohenzollern” sets the tone, followed by profiles of Nietzsche, Treitschke, and Bernhardi as a “war-triumvirate.” Later chapters address topics like German theology, the neglect of German language study, and the “race heresy.” Each essay is self-contained but builds toward a cumulative indictment. The excerpts show that Sarolea frequently uses rhetorical questions—“who is primarily responsible?”—and then answers them emphatically. He also employs lists and parallel constructions, as in the introduction’s litany of predictions. The pacing is brisk, with short paragraphs and frequent shifts between historical narrative and contemporary commentary.

Recurring Motifs and Historical Claims

Several motifs recur across the excerpts. The idea of a “legend” surrounding Frederick the Great appears repeatedly, with Sarolea arguing that historians have “systematically mobilized” public opinion in his favor. He also emphasizes the role of French Enlightenment thinkers—Voltaire, d’Alembert—as “publicity agents” for Prussian militarism. Another thread is the notion of a “freemasonry of despotism” among the three empires (Germany, Austria-Hungary, Russia). Sarolea’s evidence is often circumstantial or asserted rather than documented; he claims, for instance, that Frederick’s “greatness” is that of a “Condottiere” without citing specific battles or policies. The excerpts do not reveal whether Sarolea engages with counterarguments or primary sources beyond well-known figures. The reader should note that the book is a wartime polemic, not a neutral history, and its claims are shaped by its moment.

Readers approaching German Problems and Personalities should treat it as a primary source for understanding Allied intellectual responses to World War I, rather than a balanced historical account. Sarolea’s passionate, often hyperbolic style reveals the emotional stakes of the conflict. Pay attention to how he selects and frames evidence—his use of Frederick the Great as a symbol, his dismissal of Carlyle, and his reliance on moral condemnation. The book is best read alongside other wartime writings to gauge its rhetorical strategies and historical context.

Charles Sarolea’s bristling essays on Prussian pride always made me uneasy, yet I found myself returning to them. There is a strange solace in turning from that turmoil to the steadfast pages of The Achievement of the British Navy in the World-War — Inside the Classic. Both speak of resolve, though one shouts while the other simply sails on, quietly.