Study at Bonn, Leipzig; Ph.D., Kiel, 1869; habil. 1870.
Über Lucians Schrift Λουκιος ἠ Ὀνος und ihr Verhaeltniss zu Lucius von Patrae und den Metamorphosen des Apulejus. Eine literarhistorische Untersuchung (Ph.D., Leipzig, 1869); De Iulii Pollucis in apparatu scaenico enarrando fontibus. Accedit de Pollucis libri secundi fontibus epimetrum (habil., Leipzig, 1870).
- Professional Experience:
Extraord., Kiel, 1872-6; ordinarius, 1876-8; Tübingen, 1878-86; Leipzig, 1886; Heidelberg, 1886-98; pro-rector, Heidelberg, 1894-5; memb., Sächsiche Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1886; corr. memb., Munich/ Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1897.
Afterphilologie. Zur Beleuchtung des von dem Dr. Phil. Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Mollen- dorff herausgegebenen Pamphlets: “Zukunftsphilologie! " Sendschrieben eines Philobgen an Richard Wagner (Leipzig, 1872); Der griechische Roman und seine Vorldufer (Leipzig, 1876; 2d ed. 1900; 3d ed. 1914; 3d ed. reprinted with a preface by K. Kerényi, Leipzig, 1974); Psyche. Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen (Freiburg, Vol. I, 1890; Vol. II, 1893-94; 2d ed. 1897; 3d ed. 1903; 4th ed. 1907; 9th and 10th eds. 1925, with an introduction by Otto Weinreich. English translation from the 8th edition by W. B. Hillis as Psyche: The Cults of Souls and the Belief in Immortality among the Greeks (London and New York, 1925; reprinted, New York, 1966); Friedrich Creuzer und Karoline von Günderode. Briefe und Dichtungen (ed.) (Heidelberg, 1896).
Kleine Schriften, ed. Fritz Schöll (Tübingen & Leipzig, 1901; includes bibliography)
“Die Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste der Musik. Von Friedrich Nietzsche,” Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung (26May 1872).
The life and works of Erwin Rohde are of particular significance for three areas of scholarship. His detailed and imaginative studies of the Greek love-romance and Greek beliefs about the soul (eschatology) are important for the history of scholarship. His place in intellectual history derives from his relations with Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900), Franz Overbeck(1837-1905), and Richard (1813-83) and Cosima (1837-1930) Wagner; he thus exemplifies the connection between classical philology and anti-modernistic cultural criticism. For social historians he is significant as a representative of the educated bourgeois class and its movement away from liberalism in the era of Bismarck (who died in 1898).
In all three of these fields the sources for the life of Rohde are quite rich, easily accessible, and untapped. The genesis of his great works can be traced from his readings as a schoolboy on through his student notebooks all the way to his scholarly notations and corrected proofs. An extensive correspondence and personal Nachlaß provide a wealth of gossip and information about Rohde’s friendships and love-life, his travels and his illnesses. This sedentary intellectual’s bodily history, with its afflictions of bowels, stomach, heart, eyes, and head, tells us much about the costs incurred by one privileged to spend his life in thinking. The study of Rohde’s life was obstructed by the biography that Otto Crusius (1857-1918)—Rohde’s successor, but not his student, at Tübingen and Heidelberg—rapidly put together in 1902, bedizening it with all the brilliant colors of the Wilhelmine age, in his capacity as admirer of Nietzsche, of his sister, and of her Nietzsche Archive.
Erwin Rohde was the second of four children. His father, Adolph Rohde, M.D. (1813-1866), the first member of the family to attend a university, was a general practitioner. Rohde’s mother Bertha, née Schleiden (1813-1883), was an educated woman from a large family whose members had been successful in politics and science. M. J. Schleiden (1804-81), Professor of Botany at Jena (until 1862), persuaded the parents to send their shy and refractory boy to the modern pedagogical institute in Jena that had been founded by K.V. Stoy (1815-85) in 1844; here he spent the years from 1852 to 1859. Looking back on those seven years, the successful scholar declared that they had given him “complete unhappiness for my entire life” (Rohde to Anna Brandt, 14 October 1886). After 1860 Rohde attended the highly respected Johanneum in Hamburg, which, by means of its extensive and ambitious program of study in ancient languages, surpassed the classical grammar school (“Gelehrtenschule”) and the academic gymnasium and allowed its pupils to pass without break or hesitation into university studies. The city of Hamburg, open to the world and rich in traditions, left its mark on Rohde’s life. Also influential were his connections with a hard-working and ambitious educated bourgeois class (doctors, lawyers, apothecaries, professors), the advances and the losses involved in the Industrial Revolution, and the rise of Prussia to the status of a great German power in its wars with Denmark (1864), Austria (1866), and France (1870-1871).
In May 1865 Rohde became a student of philology at Bonn, one semester later than Friedrich Nietzsche. Like Nietzsche, Rohde transferred in the fall of 1865 from Bonn to Leipzig, where he worked under Ritschl (1806-76), Georg Curtius (1820-85), and Konstantin von Tischendorf (1815-74). The preliminary studies for a “Culturhistorie antiker Erotik” and his book on the Greek novel became gradually more and more coherent and precise (“Philologische Adversaria” 8:325-430). Rohde is first mentioned in a letter of Nietzsche in July 1866 (F. Nietzsche to Mushake, 11 July 1866); for so long the two had passed each other by. The intensive phase of their friendship lasted only one year; in the fall of 1867 Rohde registered at the University of Kiel. Here he encountered two of his future mentors, the liberal historian Alfred von Gutschmid (1835-87) and Otto Ribbeck (1827-98), whose lectures on Greek tragedy he attended. Rohde received his doctorate on 9 March 1869 with a dissertation on ancient writers on the Greek theater. The career toward which Rohde had been moving even as a schoolboy went forward without a pause: after the obligatory trip to Italy and Rome, Rohde habilitated at Kiel, and in the winter semester of 1870 he began teaching as a Privatdozent with a lecture, before five students, entitled “The History of Grammatical and Philological Studies among the Greeks.”
The friendship with Nietzsche is one of the unsolved problems in Rohde’s life. How much, how long, and in what direction did Nietzsche influence his life, his thought, and his writings? Rohde owed to Nietzsche his immersion in Schopenhauer’s (1788-1860) philosophy; pessimism that has cast off all illusions, denial of the will, opposition to Christianity, and the religion of art remained Rohde’s world-view long after Nietzsche had gone beyond Schopenhauer. He owed to Nietzsche his personal acquaintance with the church historian Franz Overbeck and with Richard and Cosima Wagner, as well as the intoxication he and Nietzsche found together in Wagner’s music; Bayreuth remained holy ground for Rohde long after Nietzsche had been excommunicated from the Wagnerite congregation.
But after the brief noontide of their friendship in Leipzig came separation, which was seldom interrupted, followed by alienation (by 1875 at the latest), and finally the breach, which was painful for them both. While Rohde grew ever more firmly rooted in family, university career, and professional scholarship, Nietzsche detached himself more and more from all three. Rohde rejected Nietzsche’s critical philosophy and supposed that he had been led astray to it by Paul Rée (1849-1901); later, he searched the text of Also Sprache Zarathustra for signs of madness. Nietzsche’s lasting influence on Rohde lay in the connection he had established between philhellenism on the one hand and Schopenhauer’s philosophy and Wagner’s music on the other, as well as his program for a conservative reform of German culture: “we may yet hope for a reawakening of Hellenic antiquity of which our fathers never dreamed” (F. Nietzsche to R. Meister, 14 July 1871). It was for this reason that Rohde defended Nietzsche’s manifesto (Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste der Musik, 1872) against the silence of professional classicists and the attacks of the young Ph.D. Ulrich von Wilamowitz- Moellendorff (Zukunftsphilobgie! 1872) in the form of an “open letter to Richard Wagner” (Afterphilologie 1872).
The Wagner circle, to which the authors of Geburt der Tragödie—with a Vorwort an Richard Wagner—and of Afterphilologie: Sendschreiben eines Philologen an Richard Wagner (1872) both belonged, associated the attacks on Nietzsche and Rohde with its old bugbear, the Jews (R. Wagner, Das Judentum in der Musik, 1850). In the criticisms of the Wagnerians, Wilamowitz, of all people, became the agent of “literary Jewry” at Berlin (C. v. Gersdorff to F. Nietzsche, 31 May 1872; Gersdorff to Rohde, 31 May 1872). In Rohde’s published writings this hostility toward the Jews (which around 1880 was crystallized in the expression “antisemitism”) has no place. In letters and personal notes, however, Rohde projected onto the Jews his revulsion toward modernity, toward industry and capitalism, which were destroying the world he knew, and toward Christianity. As a student he had informed his mother that the belief in progress and the soft optimism of so-called Christianity was only “the Jewish, actually quite heterogeneous part of Christianity” (E. Rohde to Berta Rohde, 30 June 1866). After all, Schopenhauer had said “that one day Europe too will be cleansed of all Jewish mythology” (Paralipomena, 115). But now—after the emancipation of the Jews (in 1869 in northern Germany) and with their advance particularly in the newly rising professions (the press, medicine, art, finance)—Rohde was anxious: “And it is this nation to which our people and our future are falling victim” (Rohde, Cogitata 18 [D.], probably 1870). Genuine “Christianity” and “Judaism” could produce “no plastic art” (Rohde, Cogitata 31 [D], dated “9 August 70”): “Who has heard of a Jewish sculptor, who a Jewish dramatist?” The mysteries of Hellenic education, genius, and creativity, the tragic and the plastic, are inaccessible to Jews and Jewish Christians. This prejudice, metaphysically developed and supported by such authorities as Schopenhauer, Wagner, and Lagarde (1827-91), is maintained without contradiction into Rohde’s maturity. But the sources have not yet been examined, interpreted, and evaluated. To be fully understood they must be brought into connection with other standard questions in social psychology—questions as to Rohde’s mother and wife, friends and children—and be compared with the positions of Overbeck and Nietzsche, Heinrich von Treitschke (1834-96) and Adolf von Harnack (1851-1930). Such an investigation would be of some importance for an anthropological theory of antisemitism and philhellenism.
Contrary to the various fears of the Wagners and of Rohde’s friends in Basel, his advocacy of Nietzsche’s manifesto did him no harm professionally. In 1872 he became extraordinarius at Kiel, and in 1876 ordinarius in Jena. This position of security made it possible for him to begin a family and by 17 July 1876, Rohde was engaged to Valentine Framm (1859-1901), daughter of an attorney in Rostock. Unlike Nietzsche, Rohde was anchored firmly in the social order of the Bismarck period by his professorship (which gave him the status of a government official), his marriage (August 1877), his children (Bertha, Franz Erwin Otto, Anna, Hans Adolph), and his ownership of property—and this despite the fact that he passionately rejected the spirit of his age in art (except for Wagner), technology, and scholarship. Nietzsche, by contrast, remained without wife and children, without a fixed residence; he retired early with a small pension and lived as a writer, and his income was always uncertain. The ever-increasing divergence of their life-styles, their work, and their experiences hastened the alienation between the Leipzig Dioscuri.
When Rohde received the call to Jena, the first of his two masterpieces was in the press. At Easter 1876, Breitkopf und Hartel in Leipzig published Der griechische Roman und seine Vorlaufer; the work was dedicated to the author’s “teacher and friend Otto Ribbeck.” The work’s origins can be traced far back into Rohde’s student days, even to his schooldays (MS, Heidelberg 1997, from the winter semester 1867-68, with plans for “Lucius oder der Esel”). In his diary one can see how erotic experiences and Schopenhauer’s philosophy came together in a question on the history of literary genres (Cogitata: 2 [Cr.; October 1867; supplements after the manuscript]; cf. Rohde, Roman: 179 [Schopenhauer on the novel]). How can literature with its fixed types and genres (novel, drama) grasp “life,” “the whole,” the “incalculable and individual,” “the play of shadows on the wall, whose brief life exists precisely in the eternal flux of gay colors”? The question that was then occupying his friends in Leipzig and would soon fascinate the church historian Franz Overbeck (after April 1870 in Basel) was: whence does literature arise, and how does life, the true, unique, subjective life—for Rohde, inner life, psychology (Roman: 129)—relate to its representation in the dead monuments of literature? In response to questions such as these Nietzsche investigated the birth of tragedy from cult, play, and music, while Overbeck drew a boundary between the primitive history of the Christian church, its cult, and its original texts (“Urliteratur”), on the one hand, and its literary treatment in Church historiography and patristic literature, on the other. Rohde, too, was interested in origins; it was no accident that the “forerunners” of the Greek novel appear in the very title of his book. Their subject, however, and their place in life, which Rohde was seeking, was love. Thus his definition reads: “…this Greek novel [is] essentially nothing but narrative love-poetry” (Roman: 10; cf. Cancik, “Typus” 813.2.2: “Urgeschichte und Literaturbegriff’).
More recent research has overturned Rohde’s chronology. Chariton dates not from the fifth or the sixth century CE(Roman, 520ff.) but from the first or the second century. Modern scholarship has a new conception of the significance of rhetoric and historiography for the history of the genre, and it has attempted to relate the novel’s religious language and allusions to the “new” Hellenistic religions. Rohde’s first masterwork remains important as a stage in the study of the novel and in the writing of the history of literature, as a document of its age because of its connection with Schopenhauer and with Rohde’s friends in Basel, and because it deals with the question that occupied them all, the origin of literature from life.
In the summer of 1878 Erwin Rohde was called from the kingdom of Saxony to the University of Tübingen in the kingdom of Württemberg. He succeeded Wilhelm Sigmund Teuffel (1820-1878), who, together with Ernst C. Walz (1802-1857), had succeeded in freeing philological studies in Württemberg from their theological and philosophical yoke. Only since 1838 had the University of Tübingen possessed a philological seminar, thus making it possible for a student to enter the teaching profession without having studied theology. But Württemberg clearly clung much longer than all the other German states to the connection of the clerical office with the teaching profession. Rohde thus found in the university community of Tübingen, a “moss-grown” university in which the Protestant seminary and the theological faculties exerted a strong influence while the neo-humanistic movement was a late and feeble arrival. Here Rohde worked with unspectacular but long-continued success from 1878 to 1886; in the last year he was dean of the philosophical faculty. He turned with renewed energy to “cultural history” and the history of religions, and he began collecting the materials that would finally weigh “like a nightmare” on his breast: the preliminary studies for Psyche (E. Rohde to F. Overbeck 20 December 1886; cf. E. Rohde to F. Overbeck 9 December 1883).
His transfer to Leipzig, the university of Ritschl and the scene of his youthful friendship—a transfer which Otto Ribbeck and Nietzsche had encouraged and which everyone awaited with the highest hopes—was a catastrophe. His attempt to renew his ties with Nietzsche failed. The stress of living in a large city, the pace of Saxon industry, and the presence of jealous colleagues drove Rohde and his family back to the river Neckar. As early as the autumn of 1886 Rohde accepted a call to Heidelberg. He became director of the philological seminar, senator, dean, and finally (1894-1895) pro-rector of the University. He bought a home in Neuenheim, on land the Romans had settled. He had reached the high point in his professional career and his family happiness.
While working on his study of the novel Rohde had already conceived of a “book about the vicissitudes of the belief in immortality.” He found a point of approach in the contradictory pronouncements given by the various religions and philosophies concerning the soul and its manner of existence post-mortem, the “next world,” and the compensation to be granted in another life for unhappiness and injustice in this life. Rohde compared the heroic solution to these questions in Homer with the Buddhist’s expectation of complete annihilation and the short-sighted thoughtlessness of the rabble: “What would be left for one who despises this? What would be left for a whole people that has lost its faith? Here is a looming question for the future” (Cogitata 53 [24 January 1874]).
More than fifteen years later Rohde published an answer: Psyche. Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen.This book of nearly eight hundred pages was also stylistically ambitious, and it sold well. Rohde investigated the popular and philosophical conceptions of the soul, the spirits of the dead, the beyond, and immortality, as well as the religious realization of these concepts in the cults of the dead, of heroes, and of chthonic deities in the classical mystery religions, in the cult of Dionysus, and among the Orphics. His discussion, which carefully and clearly organizes a wealth of material, gives a thematic cross-section of the whole range of the history of Greek religion, the main lines of which Rohde briefly summarized once more in his inaugural address as pro-rector (“Die Religion der Griechen,” 1895). Thus Rohde’s Psyche became, especially in educated circles, the authoritative history of Greek religion, after F. G. Welcker’s (1784-1868) Griechische Gotterlehre (1857). Only around 1930 was Rohde’s book superseded by the works of Walter F. Otto (1874-1958), Die Götter Griechenlands (1929) & Dionysos (1933) and Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1848-1931), Der Glaube der Hellenen, (1931-2). Rohde writes as a layman, a rationalist, and a free-thinker, sober and pious, vehemently rejecting clerical profundity and fanaticism while retaining a deep respect for the simple piety of the people, which endures forever in the same forms. This is Rohde’s answer to the “looming question.” He still retains full confidence in the “spirit of Hellenism”: “But it never runs dry; it vanishes to return, it conceals itself to re-emerge” (Psyche, 10th ed., 1925: 2:404).
Rohde’s history of religion, like his book on the novel, is “modern.” The title points intentionally to psychology; the new theories of ethnology and the study of religions are critically accepted—e.g., evolutionism, animism. An important element in his religio-historical analysis is Dionysos. In his cult asceticism, dance, narcotics, and possession are used; from these arose, Rohde maintains, the belief in an immortal soul and the desire for union with the deity. But Dionysos, according to Rohde (and in this point Wilamowitz follows him) is an alien, non-Greek god. Dionysian mysticism and the belief in the soul’s immortality are the consequences of a collective spiritual malady. The contrast with Nietzsche’s Dionysian psychology is evident. To him Dionysos was heightened life, and even Dionysian madness was a “neurosis of health” (Nietzsche, “Versuch einer Selbstkritik”  chap. 4). Modern research has refuted the essential points in Rohde’s analysis: Dionysos is an ancient god in Hellas, and the belief in the soul’s immortality cannot be derived from a single source.
While Rohde was preparing his Psyche for the press, his friend Nietzsche fell ill. On 7 January 1889 Rohde received a note from Turin in which Nietzsche dared “to translate [him] to the plane of the gods”; Nietzsche signed himself “Dionysos” (F. Nietzsche to E. Rohde, 3-4 January 1889). Afterward Rohde reread Nietzsche’s Zarathustra (E. Rohde to F. Overbeck 4 April 1889) and detected in it “the deeply melancholy echo of a great soul’s descent into the abyss” (E. Rohde to F. Overbeck 17 May 1892). But he did not see his friend again until 1894—“he obviously feels nothing anymore” (E. Rohde to F. Overbeck 27 December 1894). Rohde had traveled to Naumburg to advise the philosopher’s sister in setting up her Nietzsche Archive. A second meeting between Rohde and Elisabeth Forster-Nietzsche, supposedly in the winter of 1896-1897 in Frankfurt, is probably a fiction invented by the archive’s directress; it bears witness, however, to the prestige that Rohde’s name lent to the Archive (cf. E. Forster-F. Nietzsche to E. Rohde, 28 June 1897).
A meeting with Frau Cosima Wagner in Heidelberg induced Rohde to publish in the Bayreuther Blätter, despite his earlier refusals to do so; he had a slightly abridged version of his address on the religion of the Greeks reprinted in the Wagnerian journal. Thus, at the end of his life, apparently by chance, Rohde appears in a group portrait that recapitulates his beginnings, ignores contradictions, and overemphasizes the anti-modernistic points of agreement: Wagner, Nietzsche, Rohde—the composer of genius, the philosopher marked by fate, the conscientious scholar. It was in this configuration that Rohde exerted his influence on the Wilhelmine period.
Completion of Psyche, renewal of old ties with Naumburg and Bayreuth, numerous honors as a mark of his success, and the birth of his second son (Hans Adolph, 1 July 1895), opened up new prospects, or so it seemed. A charming short work on Friedrich Creuzer (1771-1858) and Karoline von Giinderode (1780-1806) testifies to his attachment to Heidelberg. But exhaustion, general depression, and grief for the death of his young son (December 1896) exacerbated the symptoms that Rohde had been noting for decades in his letters: stomach pains, constipation, compression in the chest, loss of appetite, nervous palpitations of the heart, and shortness of breath. His doctors could make nothing of the symptoms from which the sedentary intellectual suffered; the usual cures at Marienbad and Meran were unsuccessful. In the night of 10-11 January 1898 Erwin Rohde died at his home in Heidelberg. The exact cause of death is unknown.
His one-time rival, the future historian of Greek religion, Ulrich von Wil- amowitz-Moellendorff, in a letter to Otto Crusius defined his attitude toward the dead man. “Rohde’s death moved me deeply, of course, since he was an irreplaceable power in scholarship. I have seldom felt more vividly how the immanent evolution of scholarship leads the most different men, by the most different paths, to the same goal than in the case of the attitude toward religion that he and Diels and I (in contrast to Usener, for example) gradually adopted; but in addition I have never learned so much on the subject from any living scholar as from Rohde” (Wilamowitz to Crusius, 24 February 1898; transcript by W. M. Calder, III, quoted in Henrichs, Der Glaube, 285 and n. 109). -
In the “autobiographical notes” of Overbeck the configuration of persons takes firm shape: “In this sense I sincerely and heartily loved them all, most of all that one among them with whom I advanced least far in the intimacy of our relations, Rohde. But this was in any case at least partly because our relations, once we had at length come together, were never able to continue for long at a time. For this reason his premature death (1898) fell as an insupportable blow on my heart more heavily than that of Treitschke or Nietzsche. And that not merely because the last-named friends, for different reasons, were both dead to me before their deaths” (Overbeck, Nachlass Basel A 267e: “Meine Freunde” [written 1901] p. 2).
Translated by Michael Armstrong
Kleine Schriften, ed. Fritz Schöll (Tübingen & Leipzig, 1901).
C.A. Bernoulli, Franz Overbeck und Friedrich Nietzsche. Eine Freundschaft, 2 vols. (Jena, 1908); Walter Burkert, “Griechische Mythologie und die Geistesgeschichte der Moderne,” in Entretiens sur l'antiquité classique 26 (1980) 159-99; W.M. Calder III, “The Wilamowitz-Nietzsche Struggle: New Documents and a Reappraisal,” Nietzsche-Studien 12 (1983) 214-54; Cancik, Hubert. “Erwin Rohde—Ein Philologe der Bismarckzeit,” in Semper Apertus. Sechshundert Jahre Ruprecht-Karls-Universität Heidelberg 1386-1986. Festschrift in sechs Bänden. (Berlin, Heidelberg, New York, and Tokyo, 1985) 2:436-505; ------, “ ‘ die Befreiung der philologischen Studien in Württemberg.’ Zur Grundungsgeschichte des Philologischen Seminars in Tubingen 1838,” Tübinger Universitatszeitung 37 (1989) 8-11; ------ and Hildegard Cancik-Lindemaier. “Der ‘psychologische Typus des Erlosers’ und die Möglichkeit seiner Darstellung bei Franz Overbeck und Friedrich Nietzsche,” in Franz Overbecks unerledigte Anfragen an das Christentum, ed. R. Brandle & E. Stegemann (Munich, 1988) 108-35; Otto Crusius, Erwin Rohde. Ein biographischer Versuch (Tübingen & Leipzig, 1902); “Der Streit um Nietzsches “Geburt der Tragödie” in Die Schriften von E. Rohde, R. Wagner, U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, ed. Karl Gründer (Hildesheim, 1969); Albert Henrichs, “ ‘Der Glaube der Hellenen’: Religionsgeschichte als Glaubensbekenntnis und Kulturkritik,” in Wilamowitz nach 50 Jahren, ed. W. M. Calder III, H. Flashar, & T. Lindken (Darmstadt, 1985) 263-305 (especially pp. 280ff.: Rohde and Wilamowitz); P. McGinty, Interpretation and Dionysos: Method in the Study of a God, Religion and Reason 16 (The Hague, Paris, New York, 1978); Franz Overbeck, “Erinnerungen an Friedrich Nietzsche,” ed. C. A. Bernoulli, Die Neue Rundschau 1 (1906) 209-330 ( Reprinted (slightly abridged) in C. A. Bernoulli. Franz Overbeck und Friedrich Nietzsche. 2:157-161. [See below.]); M.S. Silk & J. P. Stern,Nietzsche on Tragedy. (Cambridge, 1989); Cosima Wagner, Die Tagebücher, ed. with commentary by M. Gregor-Dellin & D. Mack, vol. 1 (1869-77); vol 2 (1878-83; Munich, 1976, 1977).
Hedwig Dauble, “Friedrich Nietzsche und Erwin Rohde. Mit bisher ungedruckten Briefen,.” Nietzsche Studien 5 (1976) 321-54; Friedrich Nietzsche, Nietzsche: Briefwechsel. Kritische Ausgabe, ed. Giorgio Colli & Mazzino Montinari. (Berlin & New York, 1975); ------. Briefwechsel mit Erwin Rohde, ed. Elisabeth Forster-Nietzsche & Fritz Schöll (Leipzig, 1923); Franz Overbeck-Erwin Rohde. Korrespondenz, ed. with commentary by A. Patzer [sub prelo]; Otto Ribbeck-^in Bild seines Lebens aus seinen Briefen 1846-1898, ed. Emma Ribbeck (Stuttgart, 1901); Die Briefe des Freiherrn Carl von Gersdorffan Friedrich Nietzsche. IV. Teil: Erganzungsband: Ausgewahlte Briefe Gersdorffs iiber Nietzsches Leben und Werk an Erwin Rohde, Richard Wagner, und Carl Fuchs aus den Jahren 1872-1903, ed. Erhart Thierbach. Gesellschaft der Freunde des Nietzsche-Archivs 8-11. Nietzsche-Archiv (Weimar 1937; reprinted Nendeln, Liechtenstein, 1975) (Gersdorff to Rohde, 1-21).
Papers (Selection; mostly unpublished)
Basel. Universitätsbibliothek. (Nachlafi of F. Overbeck, C. A. Bernoulli.)
Bayreuth. Archiv der Richard-Wagner-Gedenkstatte/National-Archiv Bayreuth. (Correspondence from and to Rohde; books donated by Rohde.)
Bonn. Universitätsbibliothek. (Correspondence of Franz Ruhl; Rohde to Usener.)
Frankfurt. Schopenhauer-Archiv. (Rohde’s copy of Ed. v. Hartmann. Philosophie des Unbewussten, with marginalia by Rohde.)
Heidelberg. Universitätsbibliothek. (Scholarly and personal NachlaB of E. Rohde, O. Ribbeck, F. Schöll.)
Karlsruhe. Generallandesarchiv. (Official school reports, inspection reports.)
Karlsruhe. Private possession. (Personal Nachlaß; correspondence.)
Munich. Bayrische Staatsbibliothek. (Nachlaß of Otto Crusius and W. Krumbacher, with letters by and about Rohde.)
Stuttgart. Württembergische Landesbibliothek. (Student notes of Rohde’s lectures at the University of Tübingen.)
Tübingen. Universitätsbibliothek. (Official proceedings of the Dean’s office, reports on promotion and hiring of faculty, students’ notes of lectures, letters.)
Weimar. Goethe- und Schiller-Archiv. (Contents of the former “Nietzsche-Archiv.” Correspondence of Friedrich Nietzsche, Elisabeth Forster-Nietzsche.)
- Author: Hubert Cancik