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  • In Memoriam:Maximilian Aue
  • Viola Westbrook

I knew Maximilian for many decades; only I did not really know him. Because when we first met in September of 1967 in the German Department at Emory University, he introduced himself to me as “Bill”—Bill Aue who had come to us from Stanford University. Quite American, I thought. He was generous, optimistic, and energetic—what can be more characteristically American?

It would be much later that he became Maximilian to us, which of course is his real name and a lot more Austrian sounding after all. I think it was in fact the countess Ute Gräfin Baudissen, then the director of the Atlanta Goethe Institut, who encouraged him by remarking that a self-respecting Austrian with such an elegant name as Maximilian should certainly make good use of it. He agreed and thus a new chapter began.

We all knew Dr. Aue in different facets of his rich career: as an engaged and supportive colleague, as a respected scholar and gifted translator, or as a much admired and beloved teacher. But what we all came to know about him and what endeared him to us all (and sometimes also frustrated us!), was that—despite trying to be “Bill” for a while—he was so genuinely Austrian, more specifically, so devotedly Viennese.

Vienna was where his soul lived. Maximilian Aue grew up in the heart of that incomparable city, the Ringstrasse with the Burgtheater, the University, and the Votivkirche directly to his left, the Berggasse where Sigmund Freud had lived one street over and down the hill, the famous Schottengymnasium where he went to school right around the corner and so on. Vienna defined him in countless ways. For unlike Robert Musil’s Mann ohne Eigenschaften, which had occupied much of Dr. Aue’s attention during his doctoral studies, he was in fact a man with many “Eigenschaften,” or “qualities.” His passion for literature, which undoubtedly had its beginning in his classical Viennese education, was legendary. But we also knew Maximilian to have that sophisticated Viennese elegance about him, for a cosmopolitan mentality with a global [End Page xi] perspective. We appreciated the warmth of his temperament that always preferred to be conciliatory rather than confrontational. And he always, always knew what was correct and appropriate!

As I said, Maximilian came to Emory in 1967. He brought his talents, his aspirations, and of course his Austrian “flair” to our department. We were the “young radicals” then, but his ideas and his commitment to teaching energized all of us, as for example when he convinced the department to adopt the new “structural approach,” then the latest method of language instruction taught at Stanford. We did just that—with enthusiasm and quite successfully, I thought.

Soon however he would discover that something serious was missing at Emory University, and especially in the German Department: there was no study program overseas, and therefore there was of course no direct line connecting Emory to Austria. So he promptly set out to correct this omission. With great determination, he approached all the powers-that-be at Emory to persuade them that it was high time for the university to start a study abroad program—and have it best be located in Vienna (of course). He presented a well-prepared “turn-key” plan and was ready to start right away.

Well, he succeeded. In 1973 Emory’s first study program abroad was launched. Dr. Aue went to Austria to direct a group of Emory students in the brand new “Summer Semester in Vienna” program, that he had so generously envisioned: eight weeks of intensive study, rigorous, demanding and magnificently enriching.

The rest is history. Every summer for many years to come Dr. Aue would refresh his Viennese soul while introducing Emory students to and immerse them (or should I say thrust them) into the bewildering world of Viennese culture and civilization, of Habsburg history and art, of theater and music—and of course Kaffeehaus ambiance. He would in fact even dare to take his young students across the “Iron Curtain” to Prague and Budapest, then still under Soviet control—and brought them all back safely, of course! Unforgettable...

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