Schlump

A forgotten book, burned and walled in – reissued for the first time 85 years later

“Schlump goes to war with high hopes. At first he finds it boring, cold, hostile and brutal. He always finds a way out and sees everything clearly and straightforwardly. At times he passionately denounces the war and the killings. But he also insists on finding opportunities to enjoy the good life with his comrades. Those who still speak of heroism are the laughing stock. Like “Hans in Luck” he marches his way through the war, and when the war comes to an end – when the trains are once again running on time and the controllers have resumed their ticket inspections –, Johanna is already waiting for him on the platform. He’d only spent one night with her, back before the war. A tale that springs from reality – told from the war, against the war, about life as it is, as it could be, as it will be.” (From Volker Weidermann’s Das Buch der verbrannten Bücher – The Book of Burned Books)

Before Hans Herbert Grimm’s “Schlump” was classified as “un-German” by the Nazis and burned in 1933, the book already had a small but substantial career behind it. Published in 1928 by the leftist, Jewish publisher Kurt Wolff, this pacifist, almost picaresque story, which poked fun at all things nationalistic, was translated into English and published in 1929/1930 in Great Britain and in the USA. The British author J.B. Priestley even called it “the best of German war books so far”. But then it faded into obscurity. While Remarque – who wrote another anti-war book that was published in the same year and is still talked of today – was a star whose name survived the book burnings, until recently no one knew who was behind the work “Schlump”, which was published under a pseudonym. It was only when Volker Weidermann began to conduct research for his book The Book of Burned Books that a descendant with the ability to shed light on the story reached out to him. Hans Herbert Grimm was a teacher who abhorred war and nationalist bluster, but who did not want to jeopardise his position by revealing himself to be the author of his book either. So he remained silent when the book came out, and even more so when the book was then burned. In his fear, he even went so far as to bury his manuscript behind a wall in his house. He didn’t want anything to connect him with the book and he did not want to attract attention – he was not a hero. His wife wanted to emigrate, but he couldn’t imagine giving up his existence and even joined the Nazi party to ensure that he would remain inconspicuous. As a result, he was no longer permitted to work as a teacher following the war and he took his own life in 1950. But his book survived and is now being reissued for the first time – a book that Volker Weidermann referred to as follows in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (FAZ): “anti-nationalist, anti-heroic, philanthropic, pacifist, pro-French, humanistic, European, quite good-humoured and well-written. A bright book from a dark time, a French-esque book of wisdom filled with Latin merriment […] The book burners were completely right: an un-German book.”