All posts by Cora Buhlert

[May 16, 1966] Spies, Poets and Linguists: Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

May 16, 2021 Cora Buhlert 10 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Crashing Starfighters

Before heading into the planned book review, I have sad news to relate: on May 10, two Lockheed F104G Starfighters of the West German air force collided over the North Sea and crashed into the waves, killing both pilots.

Lockheed Starfighter — A Lockheed F104G Starfighter, actually flying for once.

This would be a tragedy in itself, but what makes it even worse is that only eight days before, on May 2, another aircraft of the same type crashed near Rendsburg in the far north of West Germany, killing the pilot. Nor are these isolated incidents. All in all, the West German air force has lost fifty-four Lockheed Starfighters since 1961, twenty-six of them in 1965 alone. By now, the aircraft has a terrible reputation in West Germany, is nicknamed "widow maker" or "flying coffin," and also gave birth to tasteless jokes such as "How do you become the owner of a Starfighter? – Just buy a meadow and wait."

Starfighter crash Mörsen — This Starfighter crash in Twistringen, some 25 kilometres from where I live, cost not just the life of the pilot, but also that of a woman and her two daughters as well as a volunteer firefighter.

After so many crashes and avoidable deaths of both pilots and civilians on the ground, the West German parliament has finally launched an inquiry into why these accidents keep happening. Reasons include inadequate safety equipment and maintenance, general issues with the aircraft as well as the fact that West German Secretary of Defence Franz Josef Strauß, probably the worst German politician since 1945, requested alterations and add-ons, which the light fighter aircraft cannot handle.

West German Secretary of Defence Franz Josef Strauß poses in the cockpit of a Starfighter. A pity he won't be the one who's in the cockpit when the next Starfighter crashes.

Spies in Space

With so much grim news in the real world, you just want to escape into a book. So I was happy to find Babel-17, the latest science fiction novel by Samuel R. Delany, in the spinner rack at my local import bookstore. The blurb promised a mix of space opera and James Bond style spy adventure, which sounded right up my alley.

Babel-17 starts with a poem, and there are further poems scattered throughout the novel, used as chapter epigraphs. This is something you occasionally find in vintage pulp magazines, but rarely in contemporary science fiction. However, the use of poetry is entirely appropriate here, because Rydra Wong, protagonist of Babel-17, is a poet.

Rumour has it that the character is based on Samuel Delany's wife, the poet Marilyn Hacker, and that the poems found throughout the novel are her work. This is supported by a scene where Rydra Wong remembers the two men with whom she was in a triple marriage, a fellow writer named Muels Aranlyde and a geologist named Fobo Lombs. Muels Aranlyde is not just an anagram for Samuel R. Delany, he is also the author of a novel called Empire Star, which just happens to be the title of a novel Delany published earlier this year (reviewed here by our own Jason Sacks). Fobo Lombs is an anagram for Bob Folsom, a friend of the Delanys, to whom Babel-17 is dedicated.

After the poem, the novel proper opens with General Forester of the Alliance musing about invasions, embargos, hunger and cannibalism. From this, the reader deduces that Babel-17 is set in a galactic empire in the far future, which is at war. Later, we learn that warring parties, the Alliance and the Invaders, are both human.

The General is at bar, waiting to meet the above mentioned Rydra Wong. At twenty-six, Rydra Wong is not only the voice of the age and the most famous poet in the five explored galaxies, but also a linguistic genius with perfect verbal recall as well as breathtakingly beautiful. Oh yes, and she can read minds as well. Normally, characters this perfect simply annoy the reader. Rydra Wong, however, is endlessly fascinating, not just to the reader, but also to any man she meets. She has the magnetic charisma of James Bond, if James Bond were a brilliant female poet.

The military has hired Rydra Wong to solve a mystery. Factories and military installations have been experiencing mysterious accidents, which appear to be due to sabotage. Just before every accident, a burst of radio signals occurs. The signals seem to be encoded messages, but no one can crack the code, named Babel-17.

This is where Rydra Wong comes in. Using her linguistic genius, she determines that reason no one can decode Babel-17 is that it's not a code at all, but a language. Once Rydra realises that the messages are a dialogue, not a monologue, she makes headway in translating them and figures out where the next accident will occur. And since Rydra Wong also happens to have a space captain's licence, she is determined to go there.

As Rydra begins to translate more messages in Babel-17, she finds that her thoughts speed up to the point that regular English seems hopelessly slow and clumsy to convey meaning. Furthermore, Rydra realises that her uncanny abilities to guess what others are thinking from involuntary muscle movements are becoming more accurate and that she has also developed the ability to determine weak spots in anything from restraint webbing to attack patterns. Learning Babel-17 is literally changing the way Rydra perceives the universe.

A Multicultural Future

The next few chapters are given over to Rydra Wong recruiting her spaceship crew in various dodgy bars. These chapters are not only a lot of fun, they also serve to enrich the world Delany has built. We learn that cosmetic surgery is commonplace in this universe to the point that some people barely look human anymore and that walking around naked or nearly naked is not only perfectly acceptable, but socially expected. We also learn that there are so-called triples – marriages of three people – that are required for certain jobs aboard spaceships and that there are other jobs aboard spaceships that can only be done by what are essentially ghosts.

The reader also learns that Babel-17 is set in a multilingual and multiracial world. This is not your typical science fiction future where everybody speaks English – instead, there are myriad languages in this universe, snippets of some of which make their way into the novel. Our heroine Rydra Wong is an Asian woman, one of her three navigators, as well as Dr. Marcus T'mwarba, a psychologist who took in young Rydra after she was orphaned by the invasion, are black. None of this should sound unusual – after all, we live in a multilingual, multiracial and multi-ethnic world, so why should the future consist solely of white Americans? However, in practice science fiction all too often still offers up white monolingual all-American futures. Samuel R. Delany, however, is a black man and chose to show a more diverse future.

Samuel R. Delany is not just one of our most talented writers, he's also a very handsome man.

Treason Close to Home

Rydra's mission runs into problems almost immediately and her ship Rimbaud (named after French poet Arthur Rimbaud) suffers sabotage before it has even left Earth orbit. There is a traitor on board, but who?

Once the Rimbaud reaches her destination, the Alliance War Yards at Bellatrix, more trouble awaits. Delany goes into full James Bond mode here. First, he has Baron Ver Dorco, director of the War Yards, show off the secret superweapons developed there to Rydra, only for the Baron and several members of his staff to be murdered during a dinner party, when one of those superweapons, a shapeshifting android assassin, goes awry. The saboteur has struck again.

Rydra and her crew are not targeted by the saboteur, even though Rydra later notes that the murderous android had every chance to kill her. However, once Rydra and her crew return to the Rimbaud, they are struck by sabotage again, causing the ship to launch prematurely. Rydra muses that someone on board must speak Babel-17 and that this someone must be the saboteur. If you're thinking at this point that there is only one person aboard the Rimbaud who speaks Babel-17, you're on the right track.

Left adrift with their generators burned out, Rydra and crew of the Rimbaud are rescued by the pirate vessel Jebel Tarik. Though for a pirate ship, the Jebel Tarik has a surprisingly literate captain who is eager to discuss literature with Rydra. However, Rydra quickly impresses Captain Tarik in other ways as well, when she uses her Babel-17 derived abilities to aid the pirates during a raid and to save Tarik from an assassination attempt.

Rydra also bonds with Tarik's lieutenant Butcher, an amnesiac ex-con who was tortured by the Invaders and who cannot understand the concepts of "I" and "you". Rydra tries to teach him those concepts in a stunning dialogue where "I" and "you" are reversed throughout.

Rydra's next destination is the Alliance Administrative Headquarters. But before they can get there, they are attacked by the Invaders. Rydra, her crew and Butcher escape after a thrilling hand to hand battle in deep space. If you're thinking by now that Rydra Wong is remarkably unlucky, you're on the right track.

However, Rydra is not just remarkably unlucky, she is also very smart and so she eventually puts the pieces together in a nigh psychedelic and erotically charged scene where Rydra and Butcher merge both their bodies and minds. The saboteur and the traitor aboard the Rimbaud are revealed. So are Butcher's missing memories.

Reprogramming Human Brains

As the title implies, the solution to the mystery is Babel-17. For while Babel-17 is a language, it functions like a programming language, only that it programs not computers but human brains. Exposure to Babel-17 can turn people into unwitting traitors and replace their entire personality.

However, those who fell victim to Babel-17 can be deprogrammed. Furthermore, Rydra Wong has realised that what makes Babel-17 is so destructive is the lack of personal pronouns and the concepts of self and others. However, changing the language to include those concepts will also correct its flaws and stop the sabotage and the war. And so Rydra, Butcher and the rest of Rydra's loyal crew take off in a stolen Alliance battleship to put everything right and end the war. If only wars in the real world, such as the ongoing conflict in Vietnam, could be ended so easily.

Soft Science and Hard Linguistics

Space opera is often less scientifically rigorous than other types of science fiction. Babel-17, however, is based in real science. Though that science is not physics, chemistry or astronomy, but linguistics.

Campus Uni Vechta 1966 — The newly built campus of the Pedagogic College Vechta, where I taught linguistics.

I'm a translator and linguist by training and even taught English linguistics at the Pedagogic College in Vechta, a town in Northwest Germany (which also suffered a Starfighter crash, by the way). So I'm familiar with the linguistic theories behind Babel-17.

The concept that underlies Babel-17, both the novel and the fictional language, is the theory of linguistic relativity, which postulates that the structure and vocabulary of a language determines the speaker's thoughts, worldview and perception.

The theory of linguistic relativity goes back to Enlightenment era thinkers such as Johann Gottfried Herder and Wilhelm von Humboldt. Nowadays, it is mostly associated with the American linguists Edward Sapir and particularly Benjamin Lee Whorf (who also coined the term linguistic relativity) to the point that the theory is sometimes referred to as the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, even if Sapir and Whorf, though influenced by each other, did not actually develop the theory together. Working independently of Sapir and Whorf, West German linguist Leo Weisgerber has developed the similar theory of "inhaltsbezogene Grammatik" (content-related grammar), which is still influential in both West and East Germany.

Weisgerber's work is little known in the English-speaking world, but I am certain that Samuel R. Delany is familiar with both Sapir's and Whorf's work. The concept of allophones – variations of a spoken sound that belong to the same phoneme – which Rydra explains to General Forester early in the novel, was taken straight from Whorf's work.

The theory of linguistic relativity is popular among science fiction writers. Jack Vance also used it as the background for his 1957 novel The Languages of Pao. The idea that language determines thought and perception is certainly seductive and I can understand why science fiction writers keep using it. There is only one problem. The theory of linguistic relativity is not only controversial, but also very likely wrong.

Particularly Whorf comes in for a lot of criticism these days, some of which, e.g. the fact that too many of his hypotheses are based on anecdotal evidence, is justified, some of which, e.g. the sniffy disdain for the fact that Whorf was a chemical engineer by training and never actually completed a linguistics degree, is not.

Neither I nor most other linguists would go so far to declare that there is no link at all between the structure, grammar and vocabulary of a language and the perception and worldview of its speakers. After all, everybody who speaks more than one language has experienced that one language uses words and grammar to express concepts that the other does not even have. However, the link between language and worldview is not nearly as strong as Benjamin Lee Whorf and Leo Weisgerber claim.

Nor does the fact that a language does not have a word for a certain concept or perception mean that its speakers don't experience that perception. For example, English does not have an equivalent to the German word "Feierabend" (the time after work, literally "celebration evening"). Nonetheless English speakers are familiar with the joyful feeling of leaving the office or factory to head home, even if they don't have a word to describe it.

Meanwhile, the central concept of Babel-17, namely that learning and understanding a language can influence a person's thoughts and actions to the point that they lose their memories and identity and turn traitor, is – pardon me for being so blunt – nonsense and likely born out of Cold War fears about Manchurian Candidate style brainwashing and Communist sleeper agents. It does, however, make for a great story. Besides, science fiction thrives on extrapolating far-fetched and often impossible ideas from solid scientific theories. If we accept faster-than-light travel, then we can certainly accept Babel-17.

Babel-17 is many things: an action-packed space opera in the tradition of Planet Stories and Thrilling Wonder Stories, a James Bond style spy adventure in space, a meditation about language and how it influences our thoughts and identities and a primer on linguistic theories. Above all, however, it is a great science fiction novel, the best I've read this year so far.

Five stars.

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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 10, 1966] A Fairy Tale from the East: King Thrushbeard

April 10, 2021 Cora Buhlert Leave a comment

by Cora Buhlert

Marching for Peace

The long Easter holiday weekend has just passed. For most West Germans, Easter is a time for church services, family dinners, bunnies and chocolate eggs.

However, in the past six years, Easter has also become a time for peace protests. These so-called Easter marches have been inspired by the British Aldermaston marches and always take place during the Easter weekend throughout West Germany.

Easter March in Delmenhorst, 1966 — The Easter march in Delmenhorst, a town of 60000 people in my region.

Initially, Easter marches only happened in big cities. But now, fuelled by fears about the war in Vietnam and nuclear armament, even places like Delmenhorst, a town of 60000 people in my region, have Easter marches of their own. Meanwhile, the big marches such as Frankfurt's attract celebrities such as US folk singer Joan Baez, West German actor, singer and comedian Wolfgang Neuss and US peace activist Ira Sandperl.

Easter march 1966 in Frankfurt/Main — Celebrity protesters at the 1966 Easter march in Frankfurt include US peace activist Ira Sandperl, singer Joan Baez and German actor, singer and comedian Wolfgang Neuss

Springtime in Leipzig

However, marches are not the only way to promote world peace and global understanding. Meeting people from the Eastern bloc also helps and so I ventured across the Iron Curtain last month to attend the 1966 spring fair in Leipzig, East Germany. Based on a tradition going back to the middle ages, the Leipzig spring and autumn fairs have become a showcase for East European industry since the war. The Leipzig fairs are also a time when East and West move a little closer together and the Iron Curtain becomes a bit more porous. Particularly, the associated Leipzig book fair offers a chance for booklovers from East and West to meet.

Leipzig spring fair 1966 Wartburg — The brand-new Wartburg 312 is the pride of the East German car industry. But don't think you can just walk into a showroom to buy one. The waiting list is several years long.

Leipzig spring fair 1966 — East German construction equipment on display at the Leipzig spring fair

Soviet space probes on display at the Leipzig spring fair — My favourite part of the 1966 Leipzig spring fair was this display of Soviet spacecraft.

East German chocolate bunnies — This young lady presents tasty chocolate Easter treats at the Leipzig spring fair. Finding them in stores is much more difficult.

Because I have family in the nearby town of Schkeuditz, I eschewed the pricy and spy-ridden hotels catering to western visitors and instead spent the night on my Aunt Metel's couch. During the day, I admired the products of East European industrial ingenuity, including a fascinating display of Soviet space probes, and in the evening, I enjoyed the cultural life of Leipzig. Among other things, I went to the cinema to watch the latest East European movies. And this is how I came to see König Drosselbart (King Thrushbeard), a delightful fairy tale that was the highest grossing East German movie of 1965.

Capitol cinema Leipzig — The Capitol cinema in Leipzig with its striking neon sign.

Fairy Tales from the East

Eastern Europe in general and East Germany and Czechoslovakia in particular produce a lot of fairy tale movies. These films rarely reach the English speaking world, but they do make their way onto West German movie and TV screens, because they offer well-made and – at least on the surface – apolitical entertainment for viewers of all ages.

In 1950, the state-owned East German film studio DEFA kicked off its series of fairy tale movies with Das kalte Herz (The Cold Heart), based on a fairy tale by Wilhelm Hauff. The movie was a huge success and so the DEFA started adapting more fairy tales, borrowing stories from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen, but also from Russian folklore. King Thrushbeard, based on the eponymous fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm, is already the seventeenth fairy tale movie the DEFA has made since 1950.

Haughty Princesses and Handsome Strangers

The movie follows the plot of the fairy tale very closely and opens with Princess Roswitha (Karin Ugowski) on a coach ride with her governess Beatrix (Evamaria Heyse). Roswitha urges the coachman to go faster and faster, until the inevitable happens. The coach strikes a pothole and loses a wheel.

King Thrushbeard 1965 — Princess Roswitha (Karin Ugowski) confronts coachman Sebastian (Nico Turoff) after her carriage suffers a mishap in the woods.

Lucky for Roswitha and her entourage, a dashing horseman (Manfred Krug) just happens to pass by and immediately offers his help. The horseman is quite taken by the princess. Roswitha, in turn, doesn't quite know what to make of this handsome and helpful stranger, so she reacts with what we quickly realise is her default response to any situation, haughtiness and snark.

King Thrushbeard — Princess Roswitha pretends not to be interested in the handsome stranger (Manfred Krug).

Roswitha is not just haughty and snarky, she's also a spoiled brat and would be difficult to like if the movie didn't show us her softer side, when she uses her own handkerchief to bind the coachman's bleeding hand. This glimpse at Roswitha's kinder side is not lost on the handsome stranger either, who shamelessly flirts with Roswitha and even gives her a bouquet of little blue wildflowers. This bouquet will reappear throughout the film, indicating that in spite of her behaviour, Roswitha is attracted to the handsome stranger.

However, Roswitha doesn't have time to act on her attraction to handsome strangers she meets in the woods, for she has to return to the castle of her father, King Dandelion (Martin Flörchinger) who is throwing a feast in her honour and has invited several aristocratic and eligible bachelors, hoping Roswitha will choose one of them. Roswitha, however, doesn't want to marry, least of all one of the men her father has chosen for her.

The Hateful Eight

We first meet Roswitha's suitors at the castle, impatiently awaiting the arrival of the Princess. And immediately, the viewer sympathises with Roswitha and her reluctance to marry any of these men, because the suitors are a terrible bunch.

There is King Heinz-Eduard, the favourite of Roswitha's father, who's rich, fat and eats way too much. Roswitha compares him to a wine barrel. King Wenzel of Weinreich is ugly, has crooked teeth and likes alcohol a little too much. Knight Balduin von Backenstreich is rotund, clumsy (he has his proposal written down on a cue card he carries in his sleeve and still messes it up) and so short that Roswitha wonders how he can even carry his sword. Lord Zacharias von Zackenschwert is bald, scarred and really, really loves battles and telling war stories. He presents Roswitha with the medals he's won. Duke Adolar von Antenpfiff has a terrible dress sense and is also old enough to be Roswitha's grandfather. Count Eitelfritz von Supp is incredibly vain, thinks wearing a red shag carpet is the height of fashion. He also appears to find Roswitha's other suitors far more interesting than the princess herself, but since this is a movie for children, Count Eitelfritz's romantic preferences remain allusions. Prince Kasimir, finally, seems tolerable at first glance, except that he never had an original thought in his life and always says what he thinks the other person wants to hear.

King Thrushbeard 1965 The terrible suitors — Would you want to marry any of these men? Roswitha's suitors are not exactly promising.

In short, they're all terrible and Roswitha is not shy about letting her suitors know exactly what she thinks of them. In general, it is notable that while Roswitha may be haughty and a pain in the backside at times, she's also a far cry from the wilting and bland princesses found in western fairy tale movies such as Disney's. Roswitha is sassy and knows exactly what she wants, whether in a husband or in a gown. There is a scene early on where she refuses to wear the (very ugly) gown and blonde wig her father has chosen for her and instead opts for a simpler gown and her natural red hair. 22-year-old East German actress Karin Ugowski, a regular in the DEFA fairy tale movies, imbues Roswitha with a lot of charm without losing her prickliness.

King Thrushbeard 1966 — The entire annual East German curtain production was used up to make this gown and then Roswitha doesn't even want to wear it, much to the dismay of her governess Beatrix (Evamaria Heyse)

In addition to the terrible eight, a surprise suitor puts in an appearance and he's none other than the handsome stranger Roswitha met in the woods. But though Roswitha was quite taken by the handsome stranger before, she now rejects him as well. This time around, Roswitha objects to the handsome stranger's beard, which she insists looks like the beak of a thrush, hence the nickname King Thrushbeard.

Manfred Krug King Thrushbeard — I'm not a fan of the beard Manfred Krug is sporting here either, but Roswitha should know that beards can be shaved off.

A King in Disguise

However, Roswitha has overplayed her hand. Her father is furious that she rejected all the suitors again and was extremely rude about it as well. So the king swears that he will marry off Roswitha to the first beggar who appears at the castle gates. Lo and behold, promptly a wandering minstrel playing a hurdy-gurdy appears outside the castle. Meanwhile, King Thrushbeard has mysteriously vanished.

King Dandelion wavers about marrying off his only daughter to a wandering minstrel, but the insulted suitors hold him to his word and so Roswitha is married to the minstrel and cast out of the castle.

The true identity of the minstrel will not come as a surprise to anybody but Roswitha, even if the DEFA make-up department did its best to disguise Manfred Krug with a fake beard and to cover up the distinctive scar on Krug's forehead, legacy of his pre-acting career as a steelworker, with a hairpiece. Yes, the wandering minstrel is none other than King Thrushbeard in disguise, out to teach the princess a lesson and win her after all.

Eastern Jazz

28-year-old Manfred Krug is a rising star in East Germany and King Thrushbeard certainly demonstrates why. Whether king or minstrel, he always displays his cocky working class charm and has great chemistry with his co-star Karin Ugowski. King Thrushbeard (we later learn that his real name is Hans) takes no crap from Roswitha and gives as good as he gets. But contrary to his fairy tale counterpart, he's not a jerk, but instead treats Roswitha with kindness and patience.

Manfred Krug is not just an actor, but also a talented singer and songwriter, skills that he gets ample chance to show off in King Thrushbeard. Both East and West Germans love schlager, sappy pop songs of love lost and won, so schlager make up most of Manfred Krug's musical output. However, his true love is jazz, which he calls "the best gift our American brothers ever gave us".

Manfred Krug plays jazz — Manfred Krug and his band Die Jazz Optimisten play jazz in East Germany.

So how good a singer is Manfred Krug? A very good one, it turns out. Check out his amazing version of "House of the Rising Sun", which I for one prefer to The Animals'. Krug also wrote the German lyrics, which touch on taboo subjects such as race relations in the US South.

Jazz und Lyrik, one of Manfred Krug's records

Crafting Lessons in the Woods

The songs that Krug sings in King Thrushbeard are far more traditional, though pleasant. However, the people of the town, through which Roswitha and her new husband pass, only have a few pennies to spare for a wandering minstrel. The minstrel spends those few pennies on an apple for Roswitha. In the real world, he tells her, things cost money and they have none.

Manfred Kurg and Karin Ugowski in King Thrushbeard — The minstrel performed such a lovely song to buy this apple and now Roswitha doesn't even want it.

The minstrel takes Roswitha to a shack in the woods, where Roswitha turns out to be absolutely hopeless at housework. Nor does she have any marketable skills, which does not bode well for the couple's financial future.

Now the movie turns into "Crafting with Manfred Krug", as King Thrushbeard tries to teach Roswitha basket weaving, spinning and finally pottery (we never learn just how a king came by such practical skills). Roswitha turns out to be bad at all three crafts, but she reveals herself to be a talented painter, so she paints the pots and jugs that her husband makes. Meanwhile, Roswitha is thrilled that her painting skills are actually appreciated, because back at the castle, no one ever did.

Manfred Krug and Karin Ugowski in King Thrushbeard — Crafting with Manfred Krug: Lesson 2: Spinning

Next, King Thrushbeard sends Roswitha to market to sell the pots and jugs they made. Her success is middling, because Roswitha just isn't the stereotypically noisy market wife. On the second day, she sets up her stall a bit apart from the others, only to have a drunk soldier ride straight into it, shattering all her pottery. Humiliated and deeply ashamed, Roswitha runs off into the woods, believing she cannot come home to her husband, after she lost their entire stock.

Happily Ever After with Meatballs and Parsley

At a well in the woods, Roswitha asks her reflection for advice and gets it in the form of a kitchen boy from the nearby castle who is gathering mushrooms for the royal table. The boy tells Roswitha of an open position in the castle as a kitchen maid, so Roswitha goes with him. She is quickly hired, especially since it turns out that she is very good at making the king's favourite dish, meatballs with parsley sauce, which – quelle surprise – also just happens to be her husband's favourite dish.

Meanwhile, King Thrushbeard is looking for his missing wife and learns what happened from the other market vendors. Realising that he overdid the whole charade, he goes in search of Roswitha, enlisting the aid of his most trusted courtiers and servants. The cook recognises the king's description as the new kitchen maid.

So King Thrushbeard throws a big wedding feast and has Roswitha make meatballs with parsley sauce (a specialty from Saxony) as the main course. He also insists that she personally serves the meal. When Roswitha realises who the king is she drops the tureen with the meatballs (this movie certainly is hard on tableware) and runs off once again. King Thrushbeard catches up with her, apologises and the two are married for real. And they lived happily ever after.

King Thrushbeard wedding — Roswitha and King Thrushbeard celebrate their wedding with a dance.

King Thrushbeard is an delightful film. It sticks close enough to the original plot that everybody recognises it at once, but also updates the 150-year-old story to remove some of the more unpleasant aspects of the original, where King Thrushbeard is very much a jerk. The cast is excellent, particularly the two leads, but also the supporting actors playing the various suitors.

One thing about the film that surprised me were the rather basic sets. The movie was shot entirely in the DEFA studios in Potsdam Babelsberg and it shows. Even the woods through which Roswitha and King Thrushbeard pass repeatedly are obviously a studio set. The castle, the town and the minstrel's shack consist of random set pieces and bits of furniture against a plain grey studio background. The result is a highly stylized look, partly reminiscent of silent movies and partly of the fairy tale stage plays that are a staple of German theatres in the run-up to Christmas. I have seen DEFA movies with location footage and elaborate sets, so this is a deliberate artistic choice, not an economic necessity. Allegedly, the reason for the stylized sets is the theory that realistic sets would only confuse young viewers and distract from the plot.

A Socialist Fairy Tale?

So how political is King Thrushbeard, considering it is a movie from beyond the iron curtain? On the surface, it's not very political at all, considering it is an adaptation of a 150-year-old fairy tale cum morality play, featuring kings and princesses. However, at second glance, Socialist politics do become apparent, though they are more subtle than the blunt messaging e.g. in the East German science fiction film The Silent Star.

For starters, the movie very much stresses the value and importance of work. It is his ability to work with his hands that sets King Thrushbeard apart from the useless suitors and Roswitha's redemption involves getting a good honest proletarian job, first as a ceramic painter, then as a pottery vendor and finally as a kitchen maid.

Furthermore, the second song the minstrel sings explicitly states that both excessive wealth and poverty are bad for society and that equality is the best state. It's the Socialist message in a nutshell.

The terrible suitors can also be seen as an indictment of various vices. We have a drunkard, a war monger, a glutton, a man who ostentatiously shows off his wealth, a pompous fellow with a monocle, a yes-man who parrots what others wants to hear, a stammering idiot and a man who cares about his own appearance above all else. These, the movie tells us very clearly, are the sort of people the real existing Socialist republic of East Germany does not need. Though it is notable that the vices of the bad suitors also line up with the seven deadly sins of Christianity.

King Thrushbeard Russian poster — The Russian poster for "King Thrushbeard"

But don't let my comments about the political content of the movie scare you off. King Thrushbeard is an enjoyable fairy tale for young and old.

Four stars

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[March 8, 1966] Revolutionary Art for Revolutionary Times: Friedrich Schiller's The Robbers and the Battle over West German Theatre

March 8, 2021 Cora Buhlert 1 Comment

by Cora Buhlert

Spring Awakening:

March started out cool and rainy here in North West Germany, but spring is in the air and so is change.

Beat music has rapidly conquered not only the hearts of the young, but also the West German charts. However, there is still life in the schlager genre, beloved by the older generation. And so the beat song "Yesterday Man" by British singer Chris Andrews has been replaced at the top of the West German single charts with the treacly "Ganz in Weiß" (All in White) by the young Schlager singer Roy Black. Ironically, Roy Black, whose real name is Günther Höllerich, started out as a rock singer and named himself after Roy Orbison, but switched over to the schlager side, when he found no success in his chosen genre.

Robbers; Pop Art and Controversy:

Meanwhile, my hometown of Bremen has become embroiled in a massive controversy that began in the most unlikely of places, namely behind the white neoclassical façade of the more than fifty-year-old Bremen theatre. For on March 6, 1966, at 2 AM in the night, a new production of Friedrich Schiller's 1781 play Die Räuber (The Robbers) premiered, directed by Peter Zadek.

The Bremen Theatre am Goetheplatz, an unlikely setting for a theatre scandal.

So what on Earth makes a new production of an almost two-hundred-years old play, a classic of German literature that generations of students suffered through in school, so controversial and shocking? Well, you see, this is not your usual production of The Robbers, with actors dressed in faux 18th century garb and painted backdrops of the deep dark woods, through which the titular robber gang and their leader, the aristocratic outlaw Karl Moor, swagger on their quest for vengeance, freedom and paternal love.

Instead, the stage was drenched in neon light. The painted backdrop, courtesy of head set designer Wilfried Mink, depicted not deep dark woods and gothic castles, but a colourful pop art scene of a woman sniper that was clearly inspired by Roy Lichtenstein's comic strip paintings. It's a striking image and one that brought a smile to my face. However, the more conservative theatregoers were so shocked by so much pop that they booed as soon as the curtains went up.

Stage design for The Robbers — Wilfried Mink's striking Roy Lichtenstein inspired stage design for "The Robbers"

Romantic Outlaws in the Deep Dark Woods:

In front of this pop art backdrop, the familiar tragedy we all remember from our school days played out. The aristocratic Count von Moor has two sons, the handsome Karl, his oldest son and heir, and the ugly and deformed younger son Franz. The Count prefers Karl, who is a wastrel and womanizer, and rejects the dutiful Franz. The fact that both Karl and Franz are in love with the virginal Amalia doesn't help matters either.

One thing I liked about the Bremen production of The Robbers is that the talented actors playing Karl, Franz and Amalia are all young and about the same age as the characters they play. This is a far cry from fifty-year-old veteran actors portraying the youthful follies of characters in their twenties.

The aristocratic outlaw Karl Moor, the way he was portrayed in 1859.

In most productions of The Robbers, the actors wear 18th century garb, which Karl complements with the slouch hat of the romantic highwayman. In Bremen, however, Karl (portrayed by Vadim Glowna whose mother-in-law Ada Tschechowa was one of the victims of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash in January) dresses in a Superman inspired costume, which looks striking, though it doesn't provide much camouflage in the deep dark woods of Bohemia. Franz is dressed up like a monkey with a tail, a hunchback and huge fake ears, probably because Franz is supposed to be ugly and the talented 25-year-old Swiss actor Bruno Ganz, who portrays him on stage, is rather handsome. Amalia (Edith Clever), meanwhile, emphasises her virginal purity by wandering about in a white nightgown. Again, you would not think that this is particularly shocking, but the furious boos and walk-outs from parts of the audience suggest otherwise.

After his wild student days, Karl wants to change his wicked ways and writes a letter to his father, begging for forgiveness. However, his jealous brother Franz replaces the letter with a forgery, which portrays Karl as a rapist and murderer, whereupon the Count disinherits Karl and banishes him from the castle. This turn of events shocks Karl so much that he and his student friends promptly decide to form a robber gang to strike back at society and the parents who wronged them. And because these intellectual robbers are devoted to democracy, Karl is elected captain of the gang.

The romantic outlaw, often a nobleman who was wronged and has fallen on hard times, is a stock figure in German literature and legend from the 18th century well into the 20th. As with many legends, there is a kernel of truth to the tale of the romantic robber, for the highways and woodlands of Germany were indeed infested with gangs of bandits well into the 19th century, though those bandits were usually neither noble nor aristocratic nor idealistic university students but just plain criminals.

The Robbers is more realistic than most tales of romantic bandits. And so the idealistic Karl quickly realises that life as a robber is not all it's cracked up to be, when his comrades develop a taste for killing and his gang burns down an entire town, while rescuing one of their own from the gallows. The Bremen production stages the gang's reign of terror by pouring buckets of fake blood onto the stage, enough to shock Karl into returning home and part of the remaining audience to walk out in disgust. You'd think people would have noticed that The Robbers is a very bloody play (Karl's gang kills 82 people when they burn down the town) before seeing the blood actually flow on stage.

A Bourgeois Tragedy:

Back at the castle, Karl's villainous brother Franz has forged yet more letters, informing his father and Amalia that Karl has died. Bruno Ganz spends the first two acts of the play running across the stage in his monkey outfit, calling, "The mail has come."

Furthermore, Franz plots to murder his father to become count. When this fails, he simply locks his father in the dungeon and takes over the castle. Franz also tries to seduce Amalia, but Amalia would rather join a convent than marry Franz.

Bruno Ganz and Edith Clever in The Robbers — Franz Moor (Bruno Ganz) harrasses Amalia (Edith Clever) in the Bremen production of The Robbers.

The disguised Karl blunders into this sorry state of things. He finds his father in the dungeon and Amalia still mourning his death and decides to wreak vengeance on his treacherous brother. But once again, things don't go Karl's way. Terrified of the robbers, Franz commits suicide. When Karl unmasks in front of his father, the old Count promptly dies of shock (thankfully, none of the audience members followed suit). The unruly robbers burn down the castle.

Only the faithful Amalia wants to stay with Karl, but Karl tells her that the life of a robber is no place for a woman. But he can't leave the gang, because he swore a holy oath. Now Amalia wants to die and begs Karl to kill her, which he reluctantly does. In the end, the devastated Karl surrenders to the authorities, first making sure that a poor man with thirteen kids gets the considerable prize on his head. Schiller doesn't tell us what happened to Karl afterwards, but anybody with a bit of knowledge of history can guess. Captured bandits were almost all executed, hanged or beheaded if they were lucky and broken on the wheel if they were not.

Bremen The Robbers — The devastated Karl Moor (Vadim Glowna) breaks down on stage in the Bremen production of The Robbers

The Robbers is one of Schiller's best plays. However, I hated the ending when I first read it in school, particularly the fate of Amalia. Why couldn't women become romantic outlaws, too, and why couldn't Karl and Amalia live happily ever after in the deep dark woods? As an adult, I still don't like the ending very much, though it is more realistic than Karl and Amalia playing Robin Hood in the Bohemian woods. Because let's face it, Karl's robbers are murderous bandits who have killed countless people. Though Amalia could still have moved on, especially since Karl is very much an idiot for all his noble swagger. You don't join a criminal gang and start killing people just because your parents have wronged you.

Karl's brother Franz may be the villain, but he is still sympathetic, also due to Bruno Ganz's great performance. For while Karl lost his father's love, Franz never had it in the first place. He was rejected and mistreated all his life for his physical defects that he had no control over. His deeds are inexcusable – but then so are Karl's – but I can understand his motivation. Meanwhile, the true villain of the play is the old Count with his favouritism and abominable parenting skills.

Generational Conflict Played out on Stage:

At its heart, The Robbers is a play about the conflict between an older generation that is set in its ways and a young idealistic generation crying out for freedom and change. This conflict was playing out when Schiller first wrote the play only a few years before the French Revolution and it is once again playing out all over West Germany, where a generation born during the war and immediate postwar years is rebelling against their Nazi parents. Today's young rebels may protest against the war in Vietnam and they may join a commune or a motorcycle gang rather than a robber band, but the conflict at the heart of The Robbers is still as current as it ever was.

This generational divide is also mirrored in the reactions to Peter Zadek's production of The Robbers. Older theatregoers, who often have a subscription to see every production of the season, were infuriated by the unexpected visuals on stage to the point that they walked out en masse or wrote letters of protest to the local newspaper. In fact, theatre manager Kurt Hübner explicitly warned the more conservative viewers that this particular production of The Robbers would not be what they expect. And indeed, the premiere took place after midnight specifically to keep the conservative subscription viewers away. Meanwhile, younger people, many of whom rarely bother to go to the theatre at all because the productions are so stuffy and boring, were thrilled at this colourful and fresh adaptation of a classic play that everybody remembers from school.

Kurt Hübner, manager of the Bremen theatre, and some of his stars on the balcony of the theatre,

A Sixty-Year War:

The controversy about the Bremen production of The Robbers is also part of a larger battle about how faithful to the text and the perceived intentions of the author a theatre production should be. This battle has been raging in theatres across Germany for sixty years now, beginning when Viennese actor and director Max Reinhardt ignored stage directions in favour of dreamlike three-dimensional sets on a revolving stage – shocking back in 1905. A few years later in 1919, director Leopold Jessner caused a veritable scandal when his production of Friedrich Schiller's play Wilhelm Tell was performed not in front of the expected painted alpine backdrop, but on a multi-level staircase type stage.

Jessner staircase set — Actors standing on a staircase instead of in front of a painted alpine backdrop in Leopold Jessner's production of "Wilhelm Tell". Truly scandalous back in 1919.

The Nazis drove out innovative directors like Reinhardt and Jessner, both of whom happened to be Jewish, and German theatres reverted to staid and stuffy naturalism. This style persisted after the war, promoted by conservative directors like Gustaf Gründgens (a not particularly flattering literary portrait of whom was the subject of a controversy last year).

But change was in the air and it came from the unexpected direction of the Green Hill of Bayreuth, home to the famous Richard Wagner festival. Here, director Wieland Wagner, grandson of Richard, threw out the horned helmets and naturalistic painted backdrops in favour of abstract set designs and sophisticated lighting effects.

Parsival Wieland Wagner — The Knights of the Round Table in Wieland Wagner's 1954 production of his grandfather's opera "Parsival" in Bayreuth

Tristan and Isold Bayreuth — Wieland Wagner's 1962 production of his grandfather's opera "Tristan and Isold" in Bayreuth.

Modern opera productions may also be found elsewhere. Only last month, Boris Blacher's new opera Zwischenfälle bei einer Notlandung (Occurrences during an Emergency Landing) premiered in Hamburg. The barren stage was decorated only with an upright metal grid and electronic control consoles. The music was electronic and included tape recordings of plane engines and ocean waves. The plot was pure science fiction. A plane crashes on an island inhabited only by a stereotypical mad scientist and his robots. The scientist takes the surviving passengers prisoner, the passengers and robots team up to destroy the scientist's computers, in the end everything turns out to have been a plot to steal the scientist's research. The critics were politely puzzled and not sure what to make of it all.

Zwischenfälle bei der Notlandung Boris Blacher — The premier of Boris Blacher's new science fiction opera "Zwischenfälle bei der Notlandung" (Occurrences at an Emergency Landing) in Hamburg, featuring robots and mad scientists.

Meanwhile, the Bremen theatre mostly stuck to traditional productions. This changed when manager Kurt Hübner took over in 1962 and brought in young actors and directors with fresh ideas in addition to more traditional fare. The Robbers is not even the first modern production in Bremen. Only last year, a production of Frank Wedekind's 1891 play Frühlings Erwachen (Spring Awakening) premiered, also starring Vadim Glowna and Bruno Ganz. The stage was barren except for a giant photo of British actress Rita Tushingham who loomed above the stage as a symbol for the repressed sexual longing which leads to suicide, rape, teenage pregnancy and prison in the play. Oddly enough, the same critics who now complain about The Robbers generally liked that production of Spring Awakening.

Spring Awakening Bruno Ganz — Dreaming of Rita Tushingham: Bruno Ganz and a sevred head in "Spring Awakening" by Frank Wedekind at the Bremen theatre.

Spring Awakening Bremen — Troubled youngsters in conflict with parent figures. Bruno Ganz, Vadim Glowna and theatre manager Kurt Hübner (and an oversized Rota Tushingham) in the Bremen production of "Spring Awakening".

Authorial intentions:

The debate about how faithful a theatre production should be to the text and the author's intention tends to forget that in many cases, we have no idea what the author's intentions were. Bar a séance, neither Friedrich Schiller nor Frank Wedekind can tell us how they would prefer to see The Robbers or Spring Awakening performed.

Furthermore, stage performances are always a product of their time. In William Shakespeare's time, all parts were played by male actors. Yet no one accuses a contemporary production of being unfaithful to Shakespeare's intentions, just because Juliet is played by a woman. Nor do we expect baroque operas to be performed by castrated male singers, even though that's how it was done in the 17th century.

By the standards of the late 18th century, Friedrich Schiller was a revolutionary writer and The Robbers was widely viewed as a call for freedom and an indictment of tyranny to the point that post-revolutionary France granted him an honorary citizenship. When The Robbers premiered in 1781, it was greeted with enthusiastic applause by an overwhelmingly youthful audience, an audience much like those who stayed to the end of the Bremen production and applauded the actors and director.

Which production of The Robbers would Friedrich Schiller prefer: one where actors traipse about in old-fashioned clothes and declaim their dialogues in front of painted backdrops, while an elderly and conservative audience gradually falls asleep in the auditorium, or the Bremen production with its brightly coloured sets, youthful actors and equally youthful audience?

I think the answer is clear.

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[February 2, 1966] Death in the Fields: The Lufthansa Flight 005 Crash

February 2, 2021 Cora Buhlert 3 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

News accounts of plane crashes have become an almost monthly litany. But it is not often that one finds themselves a first-hand witness to disaster. Journeyer Cora Buhlert had that unfortunate opportunity last week…

Fields on Fire:

Bremen airport postcard — A postcard of Bremen Airport

On January 28, 1966, I was driving back from downtown Bremen to my home in the village of Seckenhausen just outside Bremen. It was a typical winter evening in North West Germany, rainy, stormy and cold with a low cloud cover and little visibility.

I was driving along the Kladdinger Straße, a meandering country road that connects the Bremen neighbourhood of Grolland to the village of Stuhr, and had the car radio on, because I was waiting for the seven PM news, which were about to start. The area in question is deserted at the best of times. It's mostly fields and meadows stretching along the shores of the river Ochtum as well as the tiny village of Kuhlen, really just a few farmhouses and a roadside inn. A bit further, beyond the river, lies the runway of Bremen airport. However on that night, this lonely stretch of road was surprisingly busy. People were standing outside the farmhouses of Kuhlen and the roadside inn in the pouring rain, all staring at something in the distance.

Puzzled, I drove onwards and quickly saw just what the people of Kuhlen were all staring at. Because just beyond the road, there loomed a wall of flame. An entire field was on fire and the flames had also engulfed an old barn by the roadside. However, it was winter, the field was barren and it was raining, so how could there possibly be such a huge fire?

Stuhr volunteer fire brigade — The Stihr volunteer fire brigade with its two engines.

I did not stop to investigate – it was a very big fire – but stepped down on the accelerator to get to the village of Stuhr and call the fire brigade from a public phonebox there. However, before I could make it to the village, I saw the engines of the Stuhr volunteer fire brigade coming towards me, sirens wailing. Those weren't the only fire engines I passed that night nor the only sirens I heard. It was as if every fire brigade in the entire county had been alerted. As happens so often, the sirens and fire engines also attracted spectators and so I saw several cars and people on bicycles heading towards the fire that I had been so eager to leave behind. Whatever had happened in that lonely field just off Kladdinger Straße, it must have been bad.

It was not until I got home and listened to the eight o'clock news that I learned what had happened. For it turned out that a Lufthansa plane en route from Frankfurt to Hamburg had crashed while attempting to land at Bremen airport just before seven PM, only minutes before I drove past the crash site.

Crash site map — A sketch of the crash site that appeared in the local newspaper.

Roaring engines and rattling windows:

Worried, I immediately called my aunt and uncle to check if they were okay. Because my aunt and uncle live in a house so close to the airport that they could wave at the plane passengers from their kitchen window, if they wanted to. To my relief, they were fine, but then they live on the other side of the airport from crash site. They also reported that their dinner at shortly before seven PM had been interrupted by the roar of a plane engine that was louder than usual, so loud in fact that the windows and doors and even the cups and saucers on the kitchen table rattled. Then the noise suddenly stopped for a heartbeat or two, before it was followed by a loud boom. And come to think of it, I had heard the same hollow boom a few minutes before I drove past the burning field.

Lufthansa 005 crash site — Chaos at the crash site.

By the following morning, I learned the sad truth. The crash of Lufthansa flight 005 from Frankfurt to Hamburg via Bremen had cost the lives of everybody on board, forty-two passengers and four crewmembers. Nine passengers were Italian, one was Dutch, one was American, the rest were West Germans. It is the fourth crash of a Lufthansa plane since the reestablishment of the airline in 1954 and the worst to date.

A Sequence of Unfortunate Events:

The Lufthansa Convair CV-440 Metropolitan that crashed in Bremen photographed at Düsseldorf airport last year.

Now, four days on, we have at least a few clues regarding what caused the tragedy in the field just off the Kladdinger Straße. The eight-ear-old Convair CV-440 Metropolitan had entered its final approach to Bremen airport and everything seemed normal, in spite of the low visibility and heavy tail-wind. The cockpit windows may have been iced over as well. The fact that Bremen airport does not yet have a radar system and is not scheduled to be equipped with one until 1970 may have played a role as well.

Lufthansa 005 crash site aerial view — This aerial view of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash site shows the scale of the destruction.

However, once the plane emerged from the low cloud cover, Captain Heinz Saalfeld must have realised that he had overshot the runway, probably due to a defective instrument. He began a go-around manoeuvre only ten metres above the runway and tried to pull up the plane again, though he did not inform the traffic control tower of his intentions. The last time that the tower attempted to contact flight 005 was at 6:50 PM. One minute later, the aircraft crashed. Most likely, Captain Saalfeld and co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff pulled up the plane too quickly, so that the aircraft stalled and crashed into the field just off the runway.

Upon start in Frankfurt, the Convair 440 had been fully fuelled with 3200 litres of kerosine, much more than would have been necessary for the flight to Bremen or Hamburg. The reason for this was that because of the bad weather in North Germany, the pilots wanted to have enough fuel on board to reach an alternate airport in case landing in Bremen or Hamburg would not be possible. Upon impact, the remaining approximately 2500 litres of kerosine on board ignited, causing the massive fire I saw a few minutes later.

Scenes of Horror:

The airport fire brigade as well as several fire brigades from Bremen and the surrounding villages needed forty minutes to extinguish the flames. Once they did, they found themselves faced with scenes of pure horror.

My neighbour Heini Meier is a member of the Seckenhausen volunteer fire brigade, which was called in to help with the fire fighting and rescue efforts. Only to find that there was no chance of rescuing anybody, because everybody on board had died during impact.

Lufthansa flight 005 crash site — Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

Some of the first people on site, such as a group of teenagers celebrating a birthday in one of the nearby farmhouses and a man walking his dog along the river Ochtum reported that when they reached the crash site, they saw dead passengers still buckled into their seats.

However, by the time Heini Meier made it to the crash site with his fire engine – after being forced to chase spectators out of the way – there were no recognisable bodies left. He did wonder about gleaming spots on the ground in the stark glow of the searchlights. Only when the sun rose the next morning did he realise that he had been walking on charred bodies and that the gleaming he'd noticed in the dark was caused by the jewellery, watches and belt buckles of the dead reflecting the searchlights.

Sifting through the wreckage of the Lufthansa flight 005 crash.

By daylight, the sight was so horrible that even hardened veteran fire fighters who had lived through World War II were shocked. But the grim work was particularly hard on the young fire fighters and the teenaged volunteers of the West German federal disaster relief organisation THW who had been tasked with recovering the bodies. Even the ladies of the Delmenhorst Red Cross station who had been sent to Bremen to provide the helpers with coffee and sandwiches were not spared the horrible sights, because they had to pass through the makeshift morgue to deliver food to the helpers.

Body recovery Lufthansa flight 005 — A grim task: Young volunteers of the West German federal disaster relief organisation THW recover the bodies of the victims of flight 005.

THW helpers relaxing — Three young THW volunteers are taking a well-deserved break from the grim work of body recovery.

Red Cross helpers — The ladies of the Delmenhorst Red Cross station kept the helpers supplied with coffee and sandwiches.

Because of the intense fire, the dead were burned almost beyond recognition and molten nylon from clothing and upholstering was fused to the bodies. Not all of the bodies were still in one piece either. Identifying all of the passengers and crew based on dental records and personal effects will still take weeks, if not longer.

The Victims of Flight 005

But even though many of the bodies have not yet been identified, we know who the people on board of flight 005 were. So here are the stories of some of them:

Pilot Heinz Saalfeld was 48 years old, an experienced veteran who had been a fighter pilot in World War II and had been flying for Lufthansa since 1957.

Co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff was 27 years old and only got his license last year. He trained at the Lufthansa flight school here in Bremen and was hoping to meet his fiancée during the stopover.

27-year-old Lufthansa stewardess Heide Bitterhof was not supposed to be on flight 005 at all. She only switched shifts at the last minute with a colleague who was suffering from a bad toothache.

Another Lufthansa stewardess, 23-year-old Maria Wolf was on leave and wanted to visit her family in the village of Brinkum, only three kilometres from where she died in the field off the Kladdinger Straße.

49-year-old actress Ada Tschechowa was a film and theatre legend. Her mother was the German-Russian silent film star Olga Tschechowa, her great-uncle was none other than the great Russian playwright Anton Chekhov. Ada's daughter Vera has also joined the family business. She has been acting since her teens and even dated Elvis Presley for a while, much to the chagrin of her mother. Ada Tschechowa had largely retired from acting and worked as an agent. She only boarded flight 005 at the very last minute on a VIP ticket, because she wanted to visit her friend, actor Norbert Kappen who was shooting the TV-show Hafenpolizei (Harbour Police) in Bremen.

Ada Tschechowa and Elvis Presley — Ada Tschechowa pours Elvis Presley a glass of milk when he briefly dated her daughter Vera in 1958.

Ada Tschechowa and Elvia Presley — If you're going to date Ada Tschechowa's daughter, you'd better wear a tie, as Elvia Presley found out.

Dr. Hans Schröter, Bernhard Huber and Helmut Stiller were three managers of the AEG household goods and engine factory in Oldenburg. They were on their way back from a business trip.

Kurt Rosiefsky was a Bremen cotton merchant. He, too, was on his way back from a business trip.

41-year-old Friedrich-Karl von Zitzewitz was a member of an aristocratic family that can trace its lineage back to the 12th century. His father was involved in the resistance against the Third Reich and was arrested in connection with the failed assassination attempt on Hitler on July 20, 1944.

Dr. Karl Suchsland was a specialist in the field of material and production science who wrote a seminal paper about wood glue bonding. He was on his way home to Hamburg.

Italian victims of flight 005 — The nine Italian victims of Lufthansa flight 005: swimmers Bruno Bianchi, Dino Rora, Sergio De Gregorio, Luciana Massenzi, Carmen Longo, Amedeo Chimisso and Daniela Samuele, coach Paolo Costoli and reporter Nico Sapio.

Also on board of flight 005 were seven members of the Italian national swim team as well as their coach Paolo Costoli and the Italian TV reporter Nico Sapio. The young Olympic hopefuls Bruno Bianchi, Dino Rora, Sergio De Gregorio, Luciana Massenzi, Carmen Longo, Amedeo Chimisso and Daniela Samuele were between 17 and 23 years old. The Italian swimming team was not supposed to be aboard flight 005 either. However, their flight from Milan to Frankfurt was delayed due to bad weather, so the team had to take a later flight.

The young Italian swimmers were supposed to compete in the 10th International Swim Festival at the Zentralbad in Bremen. The swimming competition did start two days later with a minute of silence for the dead and flowers placed upon the starting blocks. But the mood at the normally cheerful event was muted by the mourning for the Italian team and the other passengers of flight 005.

Zentralbad Bremen — The Bremen Zentralbad indoor pool, where the Italian swim team was supposed to take part in the 10th International Swim Fest.

Rumours, Suspicions and Speculations:

As always, when something terrible and unexplained happens, speculations were soon running high and the rumour mill was spinning in overdrive.

Did Captain Saalfeld suffer a heart attack during the failed go-around manoeuvre and is this why he did not reply to the hails of the tower?

What about the mysterious pliers that were found at the body of co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff? Was Schadhoff trying to carry out some last second repairs during a risky flight manoeuvre? And where did he get the pliers, since Lufthansa has confirmed that they were not part of the onboard tool kit?

Another persistent rumour is that the pliers belonged to one of the passengers and that this passenger stormed the cockpit and attacked the pilots during the final approach. After all, the body of co-pilot Klaus Schadhoff was found several metres away from Captain Saalfeld, entangled with the body of a still unidentified male passenger. Was Schadhoff engaged in a desperate struggle in those final few seconds of flight 005? Is this why neither Saalfeld nor Schadhoff responded to the hails of the tower?

My neighbour Heini Meier believes that even though the above makes for an exciting story for the tabloids, it's very likely wrong, because the impact was so strong that bodies, aircraft fragments, luggage and personal effects were all jumbled together at the crash site. The mysterious pliers might have been hurled out of someone's luggage and the passenger whose body was found entangled with that of the co-pilot may not have been wearing his seatbelt and was therefore thrown out of his seat upon impact.

Technology to the Rescue?

Part of the reason why it's so difficult to determine what exactly happened during those fatal final minutes aboard flight 005 is that the Convair 440 was neither equipped with a flight data recorder nor with a cockpit voice recorder, even though the technology has been in existence for more than ten years now and cockpit voice recorders are already mandatory in Australia and the US.

Would a flight data and cockpit voice recorder have prevented the crash of flight 005? No, but they would have helped accident investigators to determine what exactly the cause of the crash was and how to keep it from happening again.

Another question is if the crash could have been prevented, if Bremen airport had already been equipped with a radar system. And in fact, I find it shocking that Bremen airport still doesn't have a radar system and won't get one until 1970, even though we are prone to bad weather and low visibility conditions. Because even if a radar system could not have prevented the crash itself, it could have kept Captain Saalfeld from overshooting the runway, which was the reason for the fatal crash in the first place.

The crash might also have been averted, if the runway at Bremen airport had been longer, so that Captain Saalfeld could have landed on the first attempt. And indeed, there are plans to extend the runway and expand the airport in response to the growth in air traffic. With jet planes becoming increasingly common and supersonic air travel imminent, expanding the airport and extending the runway seems like the path forward.

However, there are problems. Bremen airport was opened in 1920 and in the forty-six years since then, the city has steadily encroached upon the airport. So the only way to expand is towards the south west, where the river Ochtum is in the way. There are proposals to move the river Ochtum and the Kladdinger Straße, but those plans will take years, if not decades to become reality.

In spite of tragedies like the flight 005 crash, air travel is still the safest form of travel. However, technology can help to make air travel even safer and maybe even prevent such tragedies in the future.

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Book, Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[January 22, 1966] Monks, Demi-Gods and Cat People: The Sword of Lankor by Howard L. Cory

January 22, 2021 Cora Buhlert 2 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

German Beats:

Sony and Cher on Beat-Club — Sony and Cher are performing on Beat-Club.

Beat music is invading the West German single charts and getting steadily more popular, particularly among the young. In September, I reported about the launch of Beat-Club, a brand-new music TV program made right here in my hometown of Bremen. Since then, Beat-Club has become a must-watch among young West Germans and is also beginning to attract international stars. For example, the December edition featured both the British band Gerry and the Pacemakers and the US duo Sonny and Cher.

Outside the teen and twen demographic, however, Schlager, that uniquely German genre of pop music with sentimental lyrics and catchy melodies, is still king. And now, a nineteen-year-old singer named Drafi Deutscher has managed to combine beat style music and Schlager type lyrics with his number one hit "Marmor, Stein und Eisen bricht" (Marble, stone and iron breaks, but our love will not). Does the combination work? Judge for yourself.

Whip-Mad Monks:

Meanwhile, West German cinemas are dominated by the latest instalment in the Edgar Wallace series of spooky thrillers. Der unheimliche Mönch (The Sinister Monk) came out late in 1965, but I only got around to seeing it after new year.

In many ways, The Sinister Monk is a very typical Edgar Wallace thriller. The wealthy Lord Darkwood dies and leaves his entire estate to his granddaughter Gwendolin (Karin Dor), whose father is in prison for a crime he did not commit. This infuriates the remaining relatives so much that they try to murder Gwendolin for her inheritance.

A large part of the movie is set in an exclusive girls' boarding school run by Gwendolin's aunt Lady Patricia (Ilse Steppat). However, Lady Patricia has problems of her own, for some of her students have gone missing and a sinister hooded monk wielding a bullwhip is stalking the grounds. Soon, cast members are dropping like flies, strangled to death by the monk's bullwhip. However, for reasons best known to himself, the monk seems determined to protect Gwendolin from assassination attempts by her villainous relatives.

The Sinister Monk is a delightfully spooky gothic romp and the whip-wielding monk is certainly one of the more colourful Edgar Wallace villains. However, the true shock comes once the monk is unmasked in the finale. For the face under the hood is none other than that of Eddi Arent, a regular of the Edgar Wallace movies who normally specialises in playing comic relief characters and was about the least likely suspect.

This proves that even after twenty-four movies, the Edgar Wallace series still has a surprise or two up its sleeve.

Planet of Apostrophes:

Surprises may also be found in the spinner rack of my local import bookstore. And so I picked up what the backcover promised was a science fiction adventure in the tradition of Edgar Rice Burroughs.

The Sword of Lankor by Howard L. Cory plunges us right in medias res with our hero, the mercenary Thuron of Ulmekoor embroiled in a tavern brawl in the city of Taveeshe on the planet of Lankor. Thuron is certainly the perfect protagonist, because – so the author assures us – "adventure followed him around like a friendly puppy". He's also tall, strong and a skilled swordsman.

During the tavern brawl, Thuron saves the life of Gaar, a member of a race of furry cat people called Kend. As a result, Gaar is now Thuron's servant for a year and a day, as the customs of his people demand. But Gaar brings other skills to the partnership as well, for he is an oracle, conjurer and pickpocket. Gaar is also the brains of the duo, while Thuron is the brawn.

If you are reminded at this point of Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories, you are not alone. And indeed the Burroughs comparison on the backcover is misleading, for there are many authors that The Sword of Lankor is more reminiscent of than Burroughs.

When Thuron and Gaar are ambushed, Gaar declares in a spur of inspiration that his companion is the son of the battle god Wabbis Ka'arbu, as has been prophesied by a hovering golden sphere that suddenly appeared in the temple of the battle god a few days before. But while Gaar had only intended to get both of them out of a tight spot, Thuron likes the idea of being the son of a god and decides to take part in the battle games that will determined the true son of Wabbis Ka’arbu.

Son of the Battle God:

Even though Thuron starts out as an underdog, he nonetheless wins the contest and – with the aid of a convenient solar eclipse – is pronounced the true son of the battle god. But that's not the end of Thuron's troubles, for he now has to deal with the conflict between King Xandnur and the treacherous high priest Yang T'or as well as with Princess Yllara who has been given to him as a not entirely unwelcome gift. The mysterious golden sphere also sends Thuron on a quest to meet the battle god in his invisible palace atop the mountain Thona.

Unfortunately, Thuron remembers nothing of the meeting with his godly father and wakes up on the mountain with a headache, a magical ring on his finger, a refurbished sword that can even cut through stone and his "father's" voice in his ear. He also has a dream that sends him on a sacred quest the Isle of Crystals in the Forbidden Sea to procure a shipload of red crystals, a quest that is of course fraught with many dangers.

If you're beginning to suspect at this point that what happened to Thuron was not divine intervention at all, but that something quite different is going on in Lankor, you're not alone. And indeed, the mysterious dialogues about Thuron's quest between an unnamed captain and an equally unnamed navigator that are interspersed between the chapters strengthen those suspicions.

Gaar, who is after all the brains of the team, is also beginning to have his suspicions, especially after the supposed battle god turns out to be unaware of things he should know, such as that Thuron's ship has been hijacked by pirates in the employ of Yang T'or, complete with its cargo of crystals as well as Thuron's beloved Yllara. Furthermore, why does the battle god only speak to Thuron three times a day, always at the same time? And what does a battle god need those red crystals for anyway? So Gaar and Thuron decide to test the supposed battle god and persuade him to do their bidding, if he wants those crystals.

To cut to the chase, the hovering golden sphere that appeared in the temple of the battle god is not a divine omen at all, but a probe sent to explore the planet Lankor. The invisible palace atop the mountain Thona is not a godly dwelling, but a cloaked spaceship. And Thuron is not the son of the battle god either, but just a convenient pawn used by the merchant crew of said spaceship to procure the priceless red crystals. As for why the spaceship crew can't just mine the crystals themselves, Lankor is a high gravity world, where the crew would be instantly crushed, if they were to land. So they use the godhood ruse to recruit the strongest man on Lankor to retrieve the crystals for them.

Thuron does indeed the deliver the crystals to the supposed battle god (though he in turn gets the golden sphere's aid in reconquering the city of Taveeshe), slay the treacherous Yang T'or and rescue his beloved Yllara from Yang T'or's dungeons. In the end, Thuron remains in Taveeshe to rebuild the cult of the battle god without greedy priests or human sacrifices. Meanwhile, Gaar, who after all was the one who figured out the truth about the golden sphere, elects to travel with the spaceship crew to have further adventures among the stars.

A Fun Romp

The Sword of Lankor is an action-packed and thoroughly enjoyable science fiction and fantasy hybrid. The novel is chock full of great action scenes, whether it's the initial arena contest, a battle against giant crystalline spiders, a ship to ship fight with a pirate crew or the climactic duel inside the temple of the battle god.

Even though The Sword of Lankor is set on an alien planet and is a science fiction tale masquerading as fantasy or vice versa, the novel is closer to Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian and Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser than to Burroughs' Barsoom. We still don't have a good term for the type of action and adventure fantasy that Robert E. Howard, C.L. Moore and Clark Ashton Smith pioneered in the pages of Weird Tales more than thirty years ago. Michael Moorcock suggested "epic fantasy", Lin Carter prefers "heroic fantasy", while Fritz Leiber proposes "sword and sorcery". Personally, I prefer the latter term.

We have even less of a term to describe the kind of vaguely science fictional interplanetary adventure that Edgar Rice Burroughs pioneered more than fifty years ago and that Leigh Brackett and C.L. Moore perfected in the 1930s and 1940s, until science put a stop to fantastic adventures on Mars and Venus. "Planetary romance" seems to be the most common term. Fritz Leiber suggests "sword and superscience", while Donald Wollheim used "sword and wonder" on the backcover of the recent anthology Swordsmen in the Sky.

But whatever you want to call them, it's obvious that both subgenres are having a moment. Ace and Ballantine are eagerly reprinting Edgar Rice Burroughs stories that have been out of print for decades. Burroughs pastiches such as the recent Mars trilogy by Edward P. Bradbury a.k.a. Michael Moorcock are also popping up.

On the sword and sorcery side, Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser and John Jakes' Brak the Barbarian are regularly gracing the pages of Fantastic. Michael Moorcock's Elric stories are a frequent feature in Science Fantasy and The Wizard of Lemuria by Lin Carter also came out last year. So did the Thurvok and Kurval series, my own humble contributions to the subgenre. Even Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian is set to be reprinted soon, thirty years after Howard's untimely death.

The Sword of Lankor is part of that revival and manages to combine good old-fashioned science fantasy adventure in the tradition of Leiber, Howard and Burroughs with a modern sensibility. For while the golden age was full of faux gods and science masquerading as religion, I doubt that the motives of the spaceship crew would have been quite so mercenary in the 1940s. Isaac Asimov's Foundation at least wanted to stave off the dark ages. The spaceship crew in The Sword of Lankor just wants to make a profit.

Sin Ship by Larry Maddock — When he's not writing science fiction, Jack Owen Jardine a.k.a. Larry Maddock a.k.a. one half of Howard L. Cory pens this kind of fare.

So who is Howard L. Cory, author of The Sword of Lankor? It turns out that Howard L. Cory is a joint pen name used by Jack Owen Jardine and his wife Julie Ann Jardine. Jack Owen Jardine is a radio disc jockey who published a couple of science fiction short stories under the pen name Larry Maddock as well as several erotic novels. His wife Julie Ann is an actress and dancer who performs under the stage name Corrie Howard. Until now, I was not familiar with either of them, but based on The Sword of Lankor, I wouldn't mind reading more stories by Jack Owen and Julie Ann Jardine.

The fact that one of the authors of The Sword of Lankor is a woman also explains why The Sword of Lankor offers more and better realised female characters than many other stories of that type. True, Yllara is a space princess stereotype and also mostly absent for the last third of the novel, when she is held prisoner by Yang T'or. However, on their quest to rescue Yllara, Thuron and Gaar also form an alliance with the Amazon queen Sh'gundelah and her impressive battle maidens.

The Sword of Lankor is not the sort of book that will win Hugos or other accolades, but it's a highly entertaining romp that had me smiling throughout. If you like Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser, Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian or John Jakes' Brak the Barbarian, give The Sword of Lankor a try.

Four stars.

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Comics

[November 18, 1965] Humour, Heroes and History: The Comics of France, Belgium and the Netherlands

November 18, 2020 Cora Buhlert 11 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Winter is coming

Winter 1965 — Winter has come to Germany

Germany is experiencing an uncommonly early winter and the entire country is currently buried under a blanket of snow. Time to settle down by the fireplace and listen to records such as Neue Songs der Welt by Israeli folk duo Esther and Abi Ofarim, which currently sits at the top of the West German long-play charts.

Winter is also the ideal time to read. Which brings me back to my last article, wherein I introduced you to the comics of East and West Germany. In this article now, I pay a visit to the comics of France, Belgium, and the Netherlands.

The Ninth Art

The comics heart of Europe undoubtedly beats in France and Belgium. For here, comics are considered not disposable entertainment for kids, but a genuine art form. Belgian comics artist Maurice De Bevere, better known as Morris, referred to comics as "the ninth art".

Maurice de Bevere a.k.a. Morris, creator of Lucky Luke

US comic books only focus on a single character or group. The French-Belgian industry is different, since it focusses on anthology magazines, which contain several different serialised comic strips. The most popular comics are later collected in books known as albums.

Three comic magazines dominate the French-Belgian-Dutch market. The Belgian magazines Spirou (Robbedoes in Flemish) and Tintin (Kuifje in Flemish) and the French magazine Pilote. All three have their own distinct style and voice.

Belgium is a multilingual country. The northern part speaks Flemish (a variation of Dutch), the southern part speaks French and a small area near the German border speaks German. As a result, Belgian comic magazines routinely appear in both French and Flemish. And since Flemish and Dutch are so similar, the Netherlands regularly get the Flemish versions of Belgian magazines. Therefore, France, Belgium and the Netherlands largely read the same comics.

Antwerpen 1960s — De Meir, main shopping street of Antwerp, Belgium

Leysstraat Antwerpen — The Leysstraat in Antwerp, Belgium

Several Franco-Belgian comics have been translated into German. However, since I live only one and a half hours from the Dutch border and about three hours from the Belgian, I frequently pick up comics that haven't yet been translated there.

Humour, dynamic art and big noses: Spirou

Of the three Franco-Belgian comic magazines, Spirou is the oldest, dating back to 1938. Though Spirou also publishes comics with more realistic art, it specialises in zany humour and a dynamic, cartoony art style that has been dubbed the "Marcinelle school", named after the Belgian town of Marcinelle, where the magazine has its headquarters.

The title character has a tangled history. Created by French cartoonist Robert Velter a.k.a. Rob-Vel, Spirou originally was an elevator operator at a luxury hotel. After Rob-Vel joined the Belgian army and was wounded in World War II, the series went through several hands, until the young Belgian cartoonist André Franquin took over in 1947 and made the strip his own. The character Spirou acquired a pet squirrel named Spip and a best friend in the reporter Fantasio. Spirou eventually changed careers and became a reporter as well, though he continues to wear his red bellhop uniform. Together, Spirou and Fantasio travel the world and have many adventures. They also adopted a strange jungle creature known as the Marsupilami.

Spirou et Fantasio — Spirou and Fantasio meet the Marsupilami

In 1957, a young man named Gaston Lagaffe (literally Gaston the blunder) wandered into the office of the newspaper for which Spirou and Fantasio work. Even though Gaston is terminally lazy and fails at pretty much everything, he was hired as an office boy. Gaston initially appeared as a supporting character in Spirou and Fantasio, but eventually got his own gag strip and became one of the most popular characters in the magazine, though he mostly does nothing at all.

However, the most popular comic published in Spirou is undoubtedly Lucky Luke. A cowboy in the Old West who is known as the man who shoots faster than his shadow, Lucky Luke doesn't shoot to kill, but only to disarm his foes. His constant companions are Jolly Jumper, the smartest horse in the world, and Rantanplan (a parody of heroic film dog Rin Tin Tin), the stupidest dog in the universe. In his adventures, Lucky Luke meets many real life historical figures. His sworn enemies are the Dalton Brothers, bandits and cousins of the historical Dalton Gang. No matter how many times Lucky Luke sends the Daltons to prison, they escape again and again. Created by the above mentioned Maurice de Bevere a.k.a. Morris in 1946, Lucky Luke is very much a parody of American westerns. Spirou also publishes the serious western comic Jerry Spring, written and drawn by Spirou editor-in-chief Joseph Gillain a.k.a. Jijé, but the humorous western adventures of Lucky Luke are a lot more popular.

Another hugely popular series that originated in the pages of Spirou are Les Schtroumpfs a.k.a De Smurfen in Flemish a.k.a. Die Schlümpfe in German. These small blue gnomes were created by Belgian cartoonist Pierre Gulliford a.k.a. Peyo and initially appeared as supporting characters in Peyo's comic Johan et Pirlouit about the adventures of the medieval squire Johan and his diminutive friend Pirlouit (Pirrewiet in Flemish) in 1958. The little blue gnomes, who live in a village of mushroom shaped houses in the forest and tangle with the evil wizard Gargamel and his cat Azrael, quickly became popular and got their own comic in 1959. Just this year, the German toy company Schleich began producing collectible Smurf figurines.

Johan et Pirlouit — Johan and Pirlouit before they met the Smurfs.

Other popular comics to appear in Spirou include the realistic aviation strip Buck Danny by Jean-Michel Charlier and Victor Hubinon, the detective strip Gil Jourdan by Maurice Tillieux and Boule et Bill, the story of a young boy and his dog by Jean Roba and Maurice Rosy.

A gothic adventure for detective hero Gil Jourdan

Clear lines and great adventures: Tintin

Tintin, the other big Belgian comics magazine, was founded in 1946, though its flagship series has a much longer history. For the intrepid young reporter Tintin and his dog Milou first appeared in the newspaper Le Petit Vingtième in 1929. Created by Belgian artist Georges Remi a.k.a. Hergé and drawn in the so-called ligne claire (clear line) style, Tintin and Milou travelled the world in search of adventure and acquired a sizeable supporting cast, including Captain Haddock, a hard-drinking and swearing sailor, Professor Tournesol, an absentminded genius, Dupont and Dupond, a pair of identical looking and not very competent police detectives, and opera singer Bianca Castafiore, who has taken a shine to Captain Haddock.

Tintin Temple of the Sun — Tintin visits the Temple of the Sun.

World War II paper shortages eventually put an end to Tintin's newspaper career, but in 1946 the intrepid young reporter returned for new adventures in glorious colour in the pages of the newly founded Tintin magazines. Though his adventures are mostly set in the real world, Tintin does venture into fantasy and science fiction on occasion, including a remarkably realistically rendered trip to the moon in 1950.

Suske en Wiske (Bob et Bobette in French), another popular strip in Tintin magazine, also predates the founding of the magazine. Created by Flemish cartoonist Willy Vandersteen and drawn in the ligne claire style, the two mischievous children Suske and Wiske and their Aunt Sidonie first appeared in a daily comic strip in the Belgian newspaper De Standaard in 1945 and moved to Tintin magazine in 1948. Suske and Wiske quickly acquired a supporting cast consisting of the brilliant inventor Professor Barabas, the strongman Jerome and Lambik, part-time detective, part-time plumber and full-time comic relief. Initially, the adventures of Suske and Wiske were largely realistic, but fantasy and science fiction elements soon appeared. And because the inventions of Professor Barabas include a time machine, Suske, Wiske and their friends also frequently go on adventures throughout history.

Suske and Wiske are hugely popular in Flanders and the Netherlands. The enterprising Willy Vandersteen also created several comic series for other publishers such as De Rode Ridder (The Red Knight), a medieval adventure series which first appeared in 1959 and Bessy, the adventures of a heroic dog in the Old West, which first appeared in 1952.

De Rode Ridder — The Red Knight visits Atlantis

Blake and Mortimer by Belgian artist and writer Edgar P. Jacobs debuted in Tintin magazine in 1946. Professor Philip Mortimer, a brilliant Scottish physicist, and his best friend and protector Captain Francis Blake, a Welsh MI5 officer, have many adventures and tangle with their sworn enemy Colonel Olrik. Both Blake and Mortimer were modelled after friends of Edgar P. Jacobs, while the villain Olrik is a self-portrait of the artist. Though nominally a spy series, Blake and Mortimer's adventures often takes them into the realm of science fiction. Among other things, Blake and Mortimer have visited Atlantis, travelled through time and thwarted an attempt to destroy the Earth via guided meteorites. The series is a true delight for science fiction fans.

Another strip which has appeared in Tintin since the beginning is Corentin by Belgian artist Paul Cuvelier. The titular character is a Breton orphan who runs away to sea and is shipwrecked. A mix of Tarzan and Robinson Crusoe, Corentin has adventures all over the world with a group of human and animal friends and occasionally ventures into the realms of fantasy as well. Cuvelier started out as a fine artist and Corentin is one of the most beautifully drawn Belgian comics.

Alix, the adventures of a young Gaul slave adopted into Roman nobility around the time of Julius Caesar, was created by Jacques Martin and debuted in Tintin in 1948. Other comics to appear in Tintin magazine are Michael Vaillant, the adventures of a formula one driver created in 1957 by Jean Graton, and Ric Hochet, yet another heroic reporter created by cartoonist Gilbert Gascard a.k.a. Tibet and mystery writer André-Paul Duchâteau in 1955.

Alix La Griffe Noire — Alix fights the Black Claw

Michel Vaillant on the racecourse of fear

Adventures for an older audience: Pilote

Spirou and Tintin are aimed at children (which explains why there are so few female characters, because Belgian youth protection laws forbid even the slightest hint of sex), though many adults read and enjoy them, too. Meanwhile, the French upstart Pilote was aimed at an older audience from its start in 1959 on.

Pilote's most popular strip is undoubtedly Astérix, which premiered in the first issue of the magazine, written by Lucky Luke co-writer René Goscinny and illustrated by Albert Uderzo. The titular character is a Gaul warrior living in a small Breton village, which is resisting Roman occupation during the time of Julius Caesar. Loosely based on historical Gaul chieftain and French national hero Vercingetorix, Astérix is short but shrewd. His best friend Obelix is big, strong and not very smart. Obelix carries around menhir, which he likes to hurl at Romans, and has a dog named Idefix. Astérix and Obelix always remind me of Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser, though I have no idea if Goscinny and Uderzo are familiar with that series. Together, Astérix, Obelix and the rest of their village run rings around the Roman would-be occupiers, also thanks to a superstrength potion developed by the village druid Panoramix. But Astérix and Obelix are not content to remain in Gaul. Instead, they have adventures all around the Roman empire. They just visited Egypt and met Cleopatra, who looks remarkably like Elizabeth Taylor in the recent movie.

Whereas the above mentioned Alix treats the subject of the Roman occupation of Gaul seriously and shows its hero as torn between his Gaul and Roman identity, Astérix uses the same historical material for comedy and satire. The series is full of puns and allusions to contemporary French politics. It's also hilarious – at least in the original French. For the German translation, publisher Rolf Kauka renamed the heroes Siggi and Babarras and replaced the allusions to contemporary French politics with allusions to contemporary West German politics. Unfortunately, the Kauka translations are not at all funny and also managed to slip in antisemitic stereotypes, which did not appear in the original. René Goscinny was not at all amused and withdrew the translation license from Kauka, which led to a lawsuit that is still ongoing. I sincerely hope that Astérix will eventually get the German translation it deserves.

Asterix and Obelix and Cleopatra — Astérix and Obelix meet Cleopatra

The other breakout comic to debut in Pilote is the western comic Blueberry, created by the Belgian writer Jean-Michel Charlier and the young French artist Jean Giraud, who occasionally also goes by Moebius. The comic initially appeared as Fort Navajo in 1963, but the unlikely named US Cavalry Lieutenant Mike Steve Blueberry became so popular that he took over the comic. Unlike the clean-cut heroes of other western comics, Blueberry is rough and unshaven, more reminiscent of Clint Eastwood in the recent Italian western Per un pugno di dollari than of John Wayne. Blueberry cares deeply about justice and abhors racism, whether it's aimed at Blacks or Native Americans. The comic would be good either way, but it's Jean Giraud's brilliant art which turns it into something truly special.

Fort Navajo, the first adventure of Lieutenant Blueberry

Other comics to appear in Pilote include the pirate adventure Barbe-Rouge by Jean-Michel Charlier and Victor Huginon, which debuted in 1959, the aviation series Tanguy et Laverdure by Jean-Michael Charlier and Albert Uderzo, which also debuted in 1959, and the gag strip Achille Talon, created by Michel Regnier a.k.a. Greg in 1963.

Going Dutch

The Dutch mostly read the Flemish editions of Franco-Belgian comics. However, they also have some titles of their own. One feature that's unique to Dutch comics is that they have no speech bubbles, only captions.

One of the most popular Dutch comics is Eric de Noorman (Eric the Norseman) about the adventures of a Viking warrior and his family. Created in 1946 by Hans G. Kresse, Eric de Noorman first appeared in the newspaper Het Laatste Nieuws. The strip was picked up by other newspapers and also published in the oblong piccolo format from 1948 on.

Another popular Dutch comic strip is Paulus de boskabouter (Paulus the Woodgnome). Created by Jan van Oort a.k.a. Jean Dulieu in 1946, the adventures of Paulus and his animal friends first appeared in the newspaper Het Vrije Volk and also spawned a series of popular radio dramas.

Kapitein Rob is a fascinating mix of sea adventure and science fiction, because De Vrijheid (Freedom), the sailing ship helmed by the titular captain, can also travel through time as well as space. The strip was created by writer Evert Werkman and artist Pieter Kuhn and debuted in 1945 in the newspaper Het Parool.

However, the most highly regarded comic in the Netherlands is a funny animal comic named Tom Poes (Tom Cat). The adventures of the anthropomorphic cat Tom Poes and his best friend, the aristocratic bear Olivier B. Bommel, first appeared in the newspaper De Telegraaf in 1941. Tom Poes started out as a children's comic, but quickly became popular among adults due to the satirical allusions and idiosyncratic language use of its creator Marten Toonder. Like Erika Fuchs, the brilliant German translator of the Donald Duck comics, many of the expressions and neologisms Marten Toonder introduced in Tom Poes have become part of the Dutch language.

The erotic space adventures of Barbarella

Delightful as the French-Belgian-Dutch comics are, female characters are sadly rare in those strips and female main characters are even rarer. However, there is one exception and it's even a science fiction comic.

Created by Jean-Claude Forest, Barbarella first appeared in the French periodical V Magazine in 1962. The protagonist is a young female space explorer who happens to be a dead ringer for French movie star Brigitte Bardot. Barbarella travels from planet to planet, meets various aliens with whom she engages in rather intimate first contact. Barbarella also loses her clothes a lot.

As long as the strip appeared only in V Magazine, which is similar to Playboy in the US, no one minded. But when the album was released last year, it caused a minor scandal and was banned as pornographic, which only served to make Barbarella even more popular.

Jean-Claude Forest also illustrates covers for French science fiction magazines.

Hard as it may be to imagine, this article only offers a brief glimpse into the wide and wonderful world of Franco-Belgian-Dutch comics. Many of these comics are not yet accessible to English speaking readers, but I hope that will change eventually.

Place de Brouckère by night — Place de Brouckère in Brussels by night.

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Movies

[October 29, 1965] Oater, West German style (The movie, Winnetou Part 3)

October 29, 2020 Cora Buhlert Leave a comment

Cora 'faxed this piece from West Germany along with yesterday's comics article. It was such a delightful snapshot into the state of Westerns in Europe that we're giving it an off-schedule publication. Enjoy!

by Cora Buhlert

Not a dry eye in the house:

West German cinemas are currently dominated by the heroic Apache chief Winnetou and his white blood brother Old Shatterhand from the adventure novels of Karl May.

Karl May (1842 to 1912) was a small time criminal turned writer of pulpy adventure stories and continues to be one of Germany's most popular authors more than fifty years after his death. Generations of German youths have devoured the glorious adventures of May's heroes in the Middle East, Mexico and the Old West, adventures the author assures us are autobiographical, even though May never left Germany. The most popular are the novels and stories May wrote about the adventures of Old Shatterhand, a Saxonian engineer and thinly veiled May stand-in, and his friend and blood brother Winnetou. When I was twelve, I was going to marry Old Shatterhand and my best friend Dagmar was going to marry Winnetou.

In 1962, Horst Wendlandt, producer of the popular Edgar Wallace films, began adapting May's novel for the big screen. Two weeks ago, the long-awaited Winnetou Part 3 hit West German cinemas, starring Hollywood star Lex Barker as Old Shatterhand and French actor Pierre Brice as Winnetou. In spite of the numbering, this is already the seventh movie about the adventures of the heroic Apache chief – the number three only refers to the fact that this movie is the adaptation of the third volume of May's Winnetou trilogy.

Now everybody who has read the novels (and is there anybody in Germany who hasn't?) already knows that Winnetou heroically gives his life to save his friend and blood brother Old Shatterhand at the end of the story. Nonetheless, there was not a dry eye in the theatre when Winnetou tragically expires in the arms of his best friend to the soaring theme music by Martin Böttcher.

Winnetou and Old Shatterhand — Friendship beyond death: Winnetou (Pierre Brice) and Old Shatterhand (Lex Barker)

Producer Horst Wendlandt and actor Rik Battaglia, who played the man who shot Winnetou, reportedly received threats. However, fans need not fear, for the Winnetou movies are still a cash cow for Wendlandt and so the heroic Apache chief will be back in German theatres in only two months in the prequel Old Surehand, Part 1.

Will you be buying a ticket?

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Comics

[October 28, 1965] Knights, Adventurers and Anthropomorphic Animals: Comics in East and West Germany

October 28, 2020 Cora Buhlert 2 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Clever Little Foxes: Fix and Foxi

Here at the Journey, we occasionally visit the wonderful world of comic books, mostly from the US but also from the UK. However, comics have long been a global phenomenon and so I'm presenting you the comics of East and West Germany.

Superheroes may rule in the US, but in West Germany, you will have a hard time finding American superhero comics, unless you have befriended an American GI who can hook you up with the latest US comics.

Erika Fuchs, the brilliant Germany translator of the Donald Duck comics

Instead, the most popular US comics in West Germany are none than the Disney comics featuring Donald Duck, Mickey Mouse and friends. A large part of the reason why the Disney comics are so popular in West Germany is the brilliant work of translator Erika Fuchs, who introduced inventive wordplay and allusions to classic literature into the comics and thus gained a large adult fanbase. The various linguistic "donaldisms" created by Erika Fuchs have even entered the regular German language by now.

Inspired by the success of the Disney comics, in 1953 West German artist Rolf Kauka created his own comic magazine called Till Eulenspiegel, named after a popular trickster character from German legend. However, a pair of clever foxes named Fix and Foxi quickly became the most popular characters and in 1955, the magazine was retitled as Fix und Foxi. The two foxes quickly adopted a whole menagerie of animal friends such as the wolf Lupo and his cousin Lupinchen, the mole Pauli and the sister Paulinchen, the raven Knox, the hare Hops, the hedgehog Stops and the mouse Mausi. Other characters to appear in the magazine are "Tom and Klein Biberherz" (Little Beaverheart), a cowboy character and his indigenous friend, and "Mischa im Weltraum" (Mischa in Outer Space), a humorous science fiction comic. Those who have read the Archie comics will find that Mischa looks very familiar.

Fix and Foxi Mischa — "Mischa in Space" on the cover of Fix and Foxi. Mischa looks very reminiscent of US character Archie.

Mecki: The Amazing Adventures of a Little Hedgehog

Fix and Foxi are not the only anthropomorphic animals in West German comics. There is also Mecki the hedgehog, whose tangled history predates the two foxes. Mecki first appeared in 1938 – still nameless and not in comic format at all, but in an animated puppet film adaptation of the Grimm fairy tale "The Race between Hare and Hedgehog". The film spawned a series of picture postcards featuring the clever little hedgehog.

Mecki debuts on the cover of Hör Zu! No. 43 in October 1949

In 1949, one of those picture postcards landed on the desk of Eduard Rhein, Renaissance man (in now 65 years, Rhein has been a Zeppelin engineer, inventor, technical writer, violinist and novelist) and editor-in-chief of the radio listings magazine Hör Zu! (Listen!). Rhein was looking for a mascot for the magazine, a character who would offers snarky commentary on the program listings. He promptly adopted the hedgehog and named him Mecki. The character debuted on the cover of issue 43 of Hör Zu!, still as a puppet character in a pre-war picture postcard. When Rhein ran out of picture postcards to reprint, he recruited cartoonist Reinhold Escher to draw new adventures of the brave little hedgehog.

Mecki wedding — Mecki and Micki get married with all their friends in attendance

From 1951 on, one page Mecki strips appeared in Hör Zu!, initially as standalone stories and later as serialised adventures. Mecki also quickly acquired friends and family, including his wife Micki and the two children Mucki and Macki, the penguin Charly, the Schrat, a permanently sleepy gnome, the seven Syrian hamsters, the seaman Captain Petersen, the cat Murr and the duck Watsch. Together, these characters travelled the world, ventured into various fantasylands and even conquered the Moon and Mars as early as 1953.

Mecki auf dem Mond — Mecki and friends visit the moon in glorious colour

Beginning in 1952, Mecki's adventures also appeared in full colour picture books. The first book, Mecki im Schlaraffenland (Mecki in Cockaigne) was written by Eduard Rhein and illustrated by Reinhold Escher, but from book two on, Wilhelm Petersen illustrated the Mecki books and later also shared artist duties with Reinhold Escher on the comic strip. Reinhold Escher's style is more cartoony, while Petersen's is more naturalistic, but both of them are highly talented artists. As a result the Mecki strips and particularly the picture books look gorgeous.

Mecki and his extended family eventually returned to the medium that birthed him for a series of eighteen short puppet movies. The toy manufacturer Steiff also produces dolls of Mecki and his family. I got the complete set of Mecki, Micki, Macki and Mucki as a birthday gift some time ago and treasure them.

Mecki Family — The Mecki family toys as produced by Steiff

In spite of Mecki's popularity, his future is uncertain, for his creator Eduard Rhein left Hör Zu! last year – not voluntarily, it is rumoured. And Rhein's replacement shows little interest in Mecki. The comic strips continue to appear in Hör Zu!, but the annual picture book has been cancelled. Nonetheless, I hope that the friendly little hedgehog and his friends will continue to delight readers for a long time to come.

In the News: Nick Knatterton and Bild Lilli

Daily comic strips can be found in many West German newspapers. However, most of these are reprints of American comic strips such as The Phantom, Blondie or The Heart of Juliet Jones. Homegrown German comic strips are rare.

One exception is the square-jawed private detective Nick Knatterton, whose adventures appeared between 1950 and 1959 in the magazine Quick.

Nick Knatterton's real name is Nikolaus Kuno Baron von Knatter. His mother Baroness von Knatter was an eager reader of murder mysteries. Inspired by her, Nick Knatterton decided to become a private detective and changed his name, so as not to embarrass his aristocratic family. Knatterton was a confirmed bachelor for many years, until he met and eventually married the heiress Linda Knips.

Nick Knatterton was created by Manfred Schmidt, a cartoonist who hails from my hometown of Bremen. Shortly after World War II, Schmidt came across a Superman comic. Inspired by this new to him medium, he created Nick Knatterton. Other inspirations for the character were Sherlock Holmes as portrayed by Hans Albers in the 1937 movie Der Mann der Sherlock Holmes war (The Man Who Was Sherlock Holmes) as well as the American dime novel hero Nat Pinkerton, whose adventures a young Manfred Schmidt had devoured in the 1920s.

Der Mann der Sherlock Holmes War — Hans Albers as not Holmes and Heinz Rühmann as not Watson in "The Man Who Was Sherlock Holmes" (1937). Note the resemblance to Nick Knatterton.

What makes the Knatterton comics so amusing are not just Schmidt's crisp drawings, but also the political satire that Schmidt, who considers himself a Communist, inserts into the strip.

Whereas Nick Knatterton is very political, Bild Lilli, another homegrown West German comic strip character, is not overly political at all. Created by cartoonist Reinhard Beuthien for the tabloid Bild, the attractive Lilli is a ditzy young woman who works as a secretary, but dreams of catching a wealthy husband. The mildly risqué Lilli strip was popular enough to spawn a Lilli fashion doll and a line of matching outfits. But sexist humour fell out of favour and so the strip was cancelled in 1961.

This could have been the end of Lilli, but instead she continued her career under a different name. For in 1958, an American tourist named Ruth Handler purchased a Bild Lilli doll and was so impressed by the idea of a fashion doll that she created her own version. Named Barbie after Mrs. Handler's daughter, this doll became a huge worldwide hit.

Bild Lilli and Barbie — Separated at birth: Bild Lilli on the left and Barbie on the right

Heroes to Carry in Your Pocket: Sigurd, Falk, Tibor, Jörg and Nick

One of West Germany's foremost comic publishers is the Walter Lehning Verlag, which started publishing comics in 1953, beginning with reprints of Italian series such as the jungle hero Akim and the western hero El Bravo. Those had been originally published in the so-called piccolo format, small and wide booklets in horizontal format that look like individual newspaper strips stapled together, so the German editions used the same format.

The advantage of the piccolo format was that at twenty pfennig apiece, the comics were cheaper than those published in regular magazine format. As a result, the reprints of Italian action comics were so popular that Lehning commissioned Swiss German artist and writer Hansrudi Wäscher to create several new series in the same format.

Wäscher's first creation for Lehning was Sigurd, a medieval knight who had more than three hundred adventures between 1953 and 1960. Sigurd was a big success and was quickly followed by Falk, another knightly hero, Tibor, a jungle hero in the mould of Tarzan who was created as a replacement for the Italian Akim character, Jörg, a young nobleman who experiences adventures during the thirty-years-war, and Nick, der Weltraumfahrer (Nick the Spaceman), a science fiction comic.

The science fictional adventures of Nick the Spaceman

Jörg experiences the horrors of the Thirty-Years War

However, the prolific Hansrudi Wäscher also worked for other comic publishers. He created Nizar, yet another jungle hero, for the publisher Kölling Verlag as well as Titanus, a science fiction comic, for the Gerstmayer Verlag. The Titanus comics had a special gimmick, because they came with 3D goggles.

Terry Starr, the blond and square-jawed hero of Titanus.

Adventures Behind the Iron Curtain: Mosaik

Western comic books also found their way across the iron curtain, to the delight of East German youths and the despair of the Communist authorities. And so in 1955, the East German publisher Verlag Neues Leben created their own comics magazine called Mosaik. Initially, the magazine appeared quarterly and switched to a monthly schedule in 1957. Due to the vagaries of Socialist paper production, Mosaik issues are not easy to find on the newsstands of East Germany and always sell out quickly, unless you know someone who will reserve a copy for you.

Mosaik No. 28 — The Digedags travel into space

The stars of Mosaik are three cobolds named Dig, Dag and Digedag. The Digedags, as they are collectively known, have amazing adventures in time and space. So far, they have fought pirates, founded a circus, travelled to ancient Rome and into outer space and meet various important historical figures. Their latest adventure has taken them to the Middle Ages, where they picked up a new travelling companion in the clumsy knight Ritter Runkel.

Mosaik 1965 — The Digedags fight pirates.

So how Socialist are the Digedags? The answer is, "It's complicated." During their epic space adventure, the Digedags were dragged into a conflict between the Republican Union, a Socialist utopia, and their sworn enemies, the Großneonian Reich, an expansionist capitalist hell state ruled by people dressed in what looks like SS uniforms. But while the space saga wore its Socialist heart on its sleeve, the following inventor cycle was the opposite. For the inspirational inventors from history the Digedags encountered include not just East German hero Otto von Guericke, 17th century scientist and mayor of Magdeburg, but also capitalists such as James Watt and even Werner von Siemens, aristocrat and capitalist, whom the Digedags meet as a young lieutenant in the Prussian army.

Commander of the Großneonian space station — The uniform worn by the villainous commander of the Großneonian space station does look strangely familiar.

However, the main objective of Mosaik is apolitical fun, which is also why the magazine is so much more popular than other publications from the same company such as Die Trommel (The Drum), the official magazine of the Ernst Thälmann Young Pioneers, which includes such thrilling comic strips as "The Girl from the Soviet War Monument" or "The Red Climbers".

"Das Mädchen vom Ehrenmal" (The Girl from the Soviet War Monument), an inspirational comic strip from "Die Trommel" (The Drum), the official magazine of the Ernst Thälmann Young Pioneers.

The Digedags were the creation of cartoonist Hannes Hegen, but in true Socialist fashion the comic is created by a collective of writers and artists. The current head writer is Lothar Dräger. The main artist is Lona Rietschel, one of the few women to work in German comics.

And that's it for the comics of East and West Germany. Next month, I will introduce you to the comics of Belgium, France and the Netherlands.

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[September 28, 1965] Of Art and Freedom: The Rolling Stones Riots and the Mephisto Case

September 28, 2020 Cora Buhlert Leave a comment

by Cora Buhlert

Science fiction, as a cutting edge genre, often skirts the line of decorum, occasionally earning calls for banning of particularly sensitive works. Thus, it is appropriate that this month, I have three stories from West Germany for you that are connected to the freedom of the arts, enshrined in our constitution, and how it is sometimes challenged.

But first, some political news:

No Experiments

1965 CDU election campaign poster — Even for his first re-election campaign as chancellor, Ludwig Ehrhard's face is not on the campaign poster, but that of his predecessor Konrad Adenauer endorsing Ehrhard.

The headline news this month was the West German federal election, the fifth since the founding of Federal Republic of Germany and the first where the candidate of the Christian conservative party CDU/CSU is someone other than Konrad Adenauer, namely his successor as chancellor Ludwig Ehrhard.

But except for the name of the chancellor, very little has changed. The CDU/CSU once again won the majority of the vote and will be able to continue the coalition government with the liberal party FDP. The opposition, the Socialdemocratic party SPD gained some votes, but not enough for SPD chancellor candidate Willy Brandt to replace Ludwig Ehrhard.

I have to admit that I never liked Konrad Adenauer. However, he and Ludwig Ehrhard have done a lot to rebuild West Germany after World War II and turn it into the industrial powerhouse it is today. Nonetheless, I feel that after sixteen years of a CDU/CSU/FDP government, it is time for a change.

Rolling Stones, Riots and Rebellion

Rolling Stones in Hamburg 1965 — The Rolling Stones arrive at Hamburg airport.

At least in the realm of pop music, change is in the air. The West German music charts are still dominated by the so-called Schlager genre of sappy pop songs sang in German. But while Schlager is still king with the over forty demographic, the young are increasingly turning to beat music.

The Rolling Stones recently finished their first tour of West Germany to the delight of their young fans and the disdain of conservative critics, who called the band "cavemen" and their music "primitive and unimaginative".

Rolling Stones fans in Hamburg — Young fans cheer on the Rolling Stones in Hamburg

The Rolling Stones concert in Hamburg erupted into violence, when more than two thousand young people, who hadn't been able get tickets for concert, decided to take out their frustrations on streetlamps, benches, planters, cars and election posters outside the concert hall. The police responded in kind and by the end of the day, forty-seven young people had been arrested and thirty-one people injured.

Police and rioter in Hamburg — The Hamburg police clashes with rioting Rolling Stones fans.

But that was nothing against what happened the following day in West Berlin, where the Rolling Stones performed at the Waldbühne. Once again, the concert was sold out and once again, young fans who had not been able to get tickets showed up outside the venue. But since the Waldbühne is an open air arena, the youngsters were able to break through the police cordon and get in.

Things were initially quiet, but once the Rolling Stones came on stage, the young fans stormed the stage. The police managed to clear the stage, but once the Stones performed their latest hit "Satisfaction", there was no holding back and the fans stormed the stage once again. The band, fearful for their safety, broke off the concert and that's when the trouble truly started.

Rolling Stones Waldbühne 1965 — The Rolling Stones on stage at the Waldbühne in West Berlin.

The young fans demanded that the Rolling Stones come back and finish the concert. When the band didn't come back, they started demolishing the seats in the arena. The West Berlin police responded with excessive violence (eye witnesses report that the situation only escalated, when police officers started attacking a group of forty to fifty teenaged girls huddling near the stage) and the result was a riot which lasted several hours, caused eighty-seven injuries and left the Waldbühne in ruins. But the riot did not stop there. Because on their way home, many of the young West German fans decided to take out their frustrations on the trains of the S-Bahn light rail network, which is operated by the hated East Berlin transport authority. In the end, seventeen S-Bahn trains had been damaged, four of them so badly that they had to be taken out of commission.

Waldbühne in ruins 1965 — Aftermath of a concert: The venerable thirty-year-old Waldbühne in Berlin is left in ruins.

East and West Berliners never agree on anything, but the newspapers in both parts of the divided city agreed that the Waldbühne riot was a disaster that must never happen again. The West German tabloid Bild compared the Rolling Stones concert cum riot to a witches' sabbath. Meanwhile, Neues Deutschland, the official newspaper of the Socialist Party of East Germany, not only reprinted the Bild article (which is unusual in itself, since Bild is explicitly anti-Communist), but also added some hyperbole of its own, comparing the rioting young fans to the Hitler Youth (even though the Nazis famously hated the very jazz and blues music which inspired the Rolling Stones) and claiming that the true aim of the Rollings Stones' music was to prepare the West German youth for World War III. Why a British beat band would even want to prepare young Germans for war is a question that not even the Neues Deutschland can answer.

Beats in Bremen

But even those West German beat music fans who did not make it to one of the Rolling Stones concerts got a chance to listen to their favourite music. For last Saturday, a brand-new music show named Beat-Club premiered on West German TV. I was watching with particular interest, not just because I like beat music, but also because the show was produced and filmed right here in my hometown Bremen.

Apparently, the idea of a TV show playing solely beat music is so shocking that announcer Wilhelm Wieben, at age thirty himself a member of the younger generation, explicitly apologised to older viewers who might not like beat music. Oddly enough, no TV announcer has ever felt the need to apologise for any other genre of music.

Compared to the dire warnings that preceded it, the actual program was a lot of fun, but fairly harmless. The format is loosely based on the US show American Bandstand and the British show Ready, Steady, Go! Various bands play live music, while the young studio audience dances. The presenters are Gerd Augustin, discjockey at the Bremen dance hall Twen Club, where he also recruited the live studio audience, and Uschi Nerke, an attractive twenty-one-year-old architecture student with musical ambitions.

Uschi Nerke Beat-Club — Uschi Nerke, 21-year-old architecture student turned TV presenter in Beat-Club

The Rolling Stones may have toured Germany barely a week before the premiere of Beat-Club, but producer Mike Leckebusch wasn't able to afford a band of that calibre yet. And so the opening number was "Halbstark" (a German slang term for young rowdies and rockers) by the Bremen beat band The Yankees, named for the Union Army Civil War era uniforms they wear on stage. Further acts included the British bands John O'Hara and His Playboys and The Liverbirds, an all-girl band from Liverpool who are already well known in North Germany for performing in Hamburg's Star Club, where the Beatles got their start not so long ago.

The girl band The Liverbirds also performed in Beat-Club

The first edition of Beat-Club may have been a little rough, but the program has a lot of potential. Were the apologies and dire warnings justified? In my opinion, no. But judge for yourself, cause thanks to the magic of Telstar I present you The Yankees performing "Halbstark" live at the Beat-Club.

Devil's Advocate

Finally, I want to report about a court case that concluded at the Hamburg district court last month. Why is this case important? Because what was on trial was nothing less than the freedom of the arts that is enshrined in the West German constitution.

Let's have some background: In 1936, Klaus Mann, son of Nobel Prize winner Thomas Mann and older brother of occasional science fiction writer Elisabeth Mann Borgese, published a novel called Mephisto – Roman einer Karriere (Mephisto – Novel of a Career), while in exile in Amsterdam, because the Mann family were persecuted by the Nazis. Now the publisher Nymphenburger Verlagsbuchhandlung wanted to republish the novel in West Germany.

Mephisto by Klaus Mann — The 1936 first edition of "Mephisto – Novel of a Career" by Klaus Mann

Mephisto by Klaus Mann, Hungarian edition — The 1946 Hungarian edition of Mephisto by Klaus Mann.

None of this would be remotely controversial, if not for the fact that Mephisto is a roman-à-clef about the German cultural and theatre world of the 1920s and 1930s. In particular, the protagonist Hendrik Höfgen is a thinly veiled portrait of actor and theatre director Gustaf Gründgens whose most famous role was Mephisto in Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's Faust. The novel chronicles Höfgen's rise from small time actor to director of the Prussian state theatre and favourite of Hermann Göring himself. Höfgen himself never believes in the Nazi ideology. Instead, he is portrayed as an opportunist who makes his own deal with the devil he is so adept at playing and uses every chance to gain advantages for himself (at one point even seducing Göring's lover and future wife), even as his former friends and colleagues are forced into exile.

Gustaf Gründgens Mephisto — Gustaf Gründgens in his most famous role as Mephisto in "Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

We do not know how Gustaf Gründgens felt about Mephisto, though we know that he knew the novel, because Klaus Mann made sure that Gründgens was sent a copy. Nor can we ask Gründgens, because he died two years ago of an overdose of sleeping pills. Klaus Mann cannot speak out on the case either, since he committed suicide in 1949.

However, Gründgens' adoptive son and heir (and, it is rumoured, lover) actor Peter Gorski was not at all happy about the plans to republish Mephisto in West Germany. And so he sued the publisher to have the publication stopped, because Mephisto supposedly libels the late Gustaf Gründgens and violates his human dignity.

Gustaf Gründgens and Peter Gorski — Gustaf Gründgens and his adoptive son Peter Gorski as Faust and Mephisto in "Faust".

Now Mephisto is undoubtedly a roman-à-clef, even if Klaus Mann himself claimed otherwise in his afterword, and most of the characters are based on real people. However, it is also a fictionalised account and some events don't fit the historical record. The most notable of these is Höfgen's lover Juliette Martens. Because Juliette is a black woman, daughter of a German father and an African mother, this relationship is taboo in Nazi Germany. Juliette is one of the few characters in Mephisto who does not have an equivalent in the real world. Instead, the scandalous relationship between Höfgen and Juliette is a stand-in for the fact that Gustaf Gründgens was homosexual.

Is Mephisto a good novel? Well, I'm probably not the right audience for it, since I have to admit that the only member of the Mann family whose works I ever enjoyed is Elisabeth Mann Borgese. Furthermore, Mephisto requires a rather deeper knowledge of the German theatre and cultural world of the 1920s and 1930s than I have. And the portrayal of Höfgen's black lover Juliette is highly problematic, since Juliette is frequently described as savage and animal-like. It is obvious that Mann introduced Juliette to avoid the homophobic implications of portraying Höfgen as homosexual. But indulging in racism to avoid homophobia doesn't make it any less racist.

Was Mephisto intended as a jibe against Gustaf Gründgens? Certainly, especially since Mann and Gründgens not just knew each other, but were actually family, since Klaus Mann's sister Erika was briefly married to Gründgens in the 1920s. The Mann siblings and Gründgens also performed together in two plays written by Klaus Mann. It is also rumoured that the relationship between Klaus Mann and Gustaf Gründgens was a lot more intimate than just brothers-in-law, since both Gründgens and Klaus Mann were homosexual, whereas Erika Mann is lesbian. So the novel was likely the result of a family quarrel or lovers' spat.

Gustaf Gründgens, Klaus Mann, Erika Mann and Pamela Wedekind — Two couples: Gustaf Gründgens, Erika Mann, Pamela Wedekind and Klaus Mann on stage in the 1920s.

It is understandable that Peter Gorski is trying to protect the legacy of Gustaf Gründgens. However, Gründgens' legacy is not in question. He was able to continue his career unimpeded in postwar West Germany and is considered one of the greatest actors and directors of his generation. Furthermore, Gründgens did collaborate with the Nazi regime, so that part of Mann's novel is absolutely correct. And Mann explicitly did not mention Gründgens' homosexuality in the novel – not that it was a big secret, though homosexual relationships between men are sadly still considered a crime in West Germany.

The fact that the heir of a Nazi collaborator tries to block the publication of a novel by a victim of Nazi persecution should also leave a bad taste in everybody's mouth.

However, the question is not whether the novel defames Gustaf Gründgens, especially since Gründgens is too dead to care anyway. The question is whether the freedom of art, which is enshrined in the West German constitution, weighs higher than the right of a dead theatre director to keep his memory unsullied.

As a writer myself, I come down on the side of art in this case. Not to mention that one precedent could lead to further lawsuits. After all, people often claim to recognise themselves in novels. For example, the British-Hungarian architect Ernö Goldfinger believed that the villain in the eponymous James Bond novel was based on him (not without reason, for Ian Fleming was known to name villains after people he disliked) and also tried to block the publication, whereupon Ian Fleming offered to change the name of the character to Goldprick. As a result, Goldfinger abandoned his lawsuit and the novel was published (and filmed last year) as Goldfinger.

Such a solution is not possible in the Mephisto case, if only because both Mann and Gründgens are dead. But thankfully, the Hamburg district court agrees with me and rejected Peter Gorski's lawsuit. The case is not yet over, for Gorski has announced that he will file an appeal. However, freedom of art won for now and that is a very good thing.

Hamburg court house — Aerial view of the Hamburg district court, which rejected the lawsuit.

You may think that the Rolling Stones riots, the Beat-Club premiere and the Mephisto have little to do with each other. But they all demonstrate why freedom of the arts is so important. Because in all three cases, we had people complaining about and trying to ban art they don't like. And in all three cases, art won out in the end. It is a hopeful trend that our science fiction writers might do well to note in their predictions of the future.

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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 14, 1965]: A Killer Thriller Double-Feature: Again the Ringer and The Face of Fu Manchu

August 14, 2020 Cora Buhlert 5 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Scenes from Germany

So far, it's been a cool and rainy summer here in West Germany. Perfect to read a book or go to the cinema, the latter of which I'll be talking about today.

But first, the news: Two days ago, tragedy struck in the West German town of Lampertheim, when the Trans-Europ-Express "Helvetia", en route from Zurich to Hamburg, crashed into a freight train. Four people died, forty-five were injured. The cause of the accident seems to have been an error of the train dispatcher.

Lampertheim train disaster — The aftermath of the Lampertheim train crash

In happier news, the current number one in the German music charts is "Il Silenzio" ("Abschiedsmelodie" in German), a haunting instrumental piece by Italian trumpeter Nini Rosso, that is perfect for a slow dance on a summer's night.

The 15th annual (West) Berlin International Film Festival concluded last month. The Berlinale, as it is commonly known, is one of the most prestigious film festivals in the world, on par with Cannes and Venice, and therefore not normally focussed on the kind of movies we discuss here at the Journey. However, the winner of this year's Golden Bear is a dystopian science fiction film, Alphaville by French director Jean-Luc Godard. Other winners include Le Bonheur by young French director Agnés Varda and the divisive thriller Repulsion by young Polish born director Roman Polanski. Satyajit Ray from India won the Silver Bear for the best director. The two acting awards went to Hollywood star Lee Marvin for his performance in the western Cat Ballou and Madhur Jaffrey, also from India, for her performance in Shakespeare-Walllah.

Alphaville poster — The dystopian science fiction film "Alphaville" by Jean Luc Godard, winner of the 1965 Berlin International Film Festival.

Agnes Varda Berlinale — Young French director Agnés Vrada, winner of the Silver Bear at the 1965 Berlin International Film Festival

Shakespeare-Wallah cast Berlinale 1965 — The cast of the British Indian movie "Shakespeare Wallah", Felicity Kendal, Shashi Kapoor, Madhur Jaffrey and Jennifer Kapoor, pose in front of the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church in West Berlin

It will be a while before we will get to the see the Berlinale winners in cinemas. So let's take a look at what audiences can watch in West Germany's movie theatres right now.

The Ringer is Back

The wave of movies based on the novels of British thriller author Edgar Wallace shows no sign of abating. To date, twenty-three official Edgar Wallace adaptations and a number of unofficial ones have been made. And the series shows no signs of exhaustion. Indeed, last year's Der Hexer (The Ringer), about the exploits of the eponymous vigilante and master of disguise, was a new highpoint for the Edgar Wallace series.

Program book "Again, the Ringer" — The program book for "Again, the Ringer".

The Ringer was also a big financial success, so it was perhaps inevitable that there would be a sequel. And so part of the original cast reunited for Neues vom Hexer (Again the Ringer).

As most Wallace movies, Again the Ringer begins with a murder, in this case that of the wheelchair bound aristocrat Lord Curtain. Unusual for the mystery genre, we see not only howdunnit but also whodunnit, namely Lord Curtain's nephew Archie Moore (Robert Hoffmann) collaborating with Butler Edwards (Klaus Kinski, who was sorely missed in The Ringer). In order to deflect suspicion from themselves, Archie and Edwards leave a card next to the body inscribed with the words "News of the Ringer".

Klaus Kinski in Again, the Ringer — Butler Edwards ("Klaus Kinski" serves up tea and murder."

This turns out to be bad idea, because it attracts the attention of the real Ringer Arthur Milton (played once again by René Deltgen) who has retired from his vigilante ways and is now living in Australia. However, the Ringer is not at all pleased that criminals are using his good name and so he travels to London together with his wife Cora Ann (Margot Trooger) and trusty secretary Archibald Finch (Eddi Arent).

Eddi Arent in Again, the Ringer — Archibald Finch (Eddi Arent) is on the case.

The involvement of the Ringer also attracts the attention of Scotland Yard, represented here by the delightfully dim-witted chief of police Sir John (Siegfried Schürenberg in a recurring role) and Inspector James Westby (Heinz Drache, reprising his role from the previous film), who is on loan from the Australian police. Westby knows that the Ringer cannot be responsible for the murder of Lord Curtain, but would still love to apprehend him for the events in the previous movie.

A Game of Masks

The Ringer first makes his presence known by appearing at his own murder trial in absentia, where he disguises himself as one of the judges and quickly dismantles Archie Moore's alibi by exposing what the viewer already knows, namely how Archie managed to kill his uncle without any suspicion falling upon him. Archie flees the scene, as does the Ringer.

Siegfried Schürenberg, Hubertus von Meyenrinck and Heinz Drache in Again, the Ringer — Sir John (Siegfried Schürenberg) and Inspector Westby (Heinz Drache) discover that this most honourable judge (Hubertus von Meyerinck) is not the Ringer.

Because this is an Edgar Wallace film, more murders happen. First, Lady Curtain is killed and then prime suspect Archie Moore turns up dead as well. By now it is clear that the unseen mastermind, who directs his henchpeople via miniature radios, is targeting the Curtain family, but why? And who will be next?

Heinz Drache in Again, the Ringer — Inspector Westby finds the miniature radios via which the villain is directing his henchmen.

The mysterious case forces Scotland Yard and the Ringer to team up to protect the remaining members of the Curtain family, particularly Lord Curtain's young heir Charles (Teddy Naumann) and his estranged niece, artist Margie Fielding (Barbara Rütting).

Margie Fielding (Barbara Rütting) confronts Inspector Westby (Heinz Drache) in her very hip attic studio.

What follows is an exciting cat and mouse game, as the various characters try to outwit each other. In the original movie, the Ringer was the only master of disguise, using make-up and latex masks to impersonate others. However in Again, the Ringer, other characters join in the fun and so the villain impersonates the Ringer at one point, while the Ringer impersonates his secretary Archibald Finch and Inspector Westby impersonates a taxi driver.

Barbara Rütting and Rene Deltgen in Again the Ringer — Margie Fielding (Barbara Rütting) tangles with the Ringer (René Deltgen)

In the end, the mastermind behind everything is revealed to be Philip Curtain, Lord Curtain's disgraced brother. Now their truce has ended, the Ringer, Cora Ann and Archibald Finch plan to take off for Australia again, but their plans are foiled by Inspector Westby, who manages to outwit even a master strategist like the Ringer and returns the trio to Scotland Yard, because – as Westby puts it – their help is needed once again. Why does Scotland Yard need the help of the Ringer? I guess we'll find out in the inevitable sequel.

Again the Ringer — The mask is off and the villain is dead, as the surviving cast looks on.

A Sequel That Doesn't Quite Measure Up

Even the weaker Edgar Wallace films always guarantee an evening of good entertainment. But last year's The Ringer was a true delight and one of the best films in the series to date. Alas, the sequel, while still a lot of fun, pales in comparison to the original.

For starters, much of the suspense of the original is gone, now we know who the Ringer is. And the hunt for the mysterious mastermind behind the attacks on the Curtain family is not nearly as exciting, especially since villain Philip Curtain remains unseen until the final scene and even there he is hidden behind the mask of the Ringer. When his face briefly is seen, it belongs to director Alfred Vohrer.

That said, there is a lot to like about the movie. As always with the Wallace movies, the cast is excellent. The returning cast of Eddi Arent, Margot Trooger, Siegfried Schürenberg and Heinz Drache are clearly having a lot of fun and René Deltgen as the Ringer gets a lot more to do this time around than in the original, where he only appears in the final scene. However, Margot Trooger's delightful Cora Ann Milton is woefully underused. Klaus Kinski is always a welcome addition to any Edgar Wallace movie, though Butler Edwards is one of his more restrained performances. Brigitte Horney, who was a big star in the 1930s and 1940s in spite of not getting along with Joseph Goebbels, is wonderful as the mysterious Lady Aston, sister-in-law of the late Lord Curtain. And Barbara Rütting's Margie Fielding is not only a deadringer for op art artist Bridget Riley (even though Margie's art is expressionist), but also one of the more liberated Wallace heroines, though she is reduced to damsel-in-distress in the end.

Barbara Rütting and Brigitte Horney in Again the Ringer — Margie Fielding (Barbara Rütting) and Lady Aston (Brigitte Horney)

There are also many great set pieces such as the initial murder, the courtroom scene, a tense moment where an unseen killer is menacing young Charles Curtain in an old windmill and a stunning scene where the villains literally throw young Charles into a tiger cage, only for Charles to befriend the animals. Young actor Teddy Naumann is the son of circus lion tamer Heinz Naumann and is therefore familiar with wild beasts from early childhood on.

But in spite of many good moments, the movie never quite gels. Whereas The Ringer was a great movie, Again, the Ringer is a just collection of great scenes.

An Explosive Beginning

The popularity of the Edgar Wallace series has set off a run on other British thriller authors of the early twentieth century to adapt. And so West Germany has seen adaptations of anything from the novels of Edgar Wallace's son Bryan Edgar to G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown mysteries in recent years.

The latest British thriller author unearthed by West German film companies is Sax Rohmer. And so, Constantin Film, producers of the Edgar Wallace and Karl May series, have teamed up with the British company Hallam Productions to bring Rohmer's most famous creation Fu Manchu back to the big screen after twenty-five years.

Poster: The Face of Fu Manchu — The very psychedelic UK poster for "The Face of Fu Manchu"

However, watching Ich, Dr. Fu Man Chu (The Face of Fu Manchu) in the theatre, you might be forgiven for thinking it is the sequel to some other film, for the movie starts with the execution of Fu Manchu (Christopher Lee) for his myriad crimes. Fu Manchu lies face up on the executioner's block, the axe comes down and that should be the end of the story.

German poster The Face of Fu Manchu — The lurid West German poster for "The Face of Fu Manchu"

But since Fu Manchu "dies" five minutes into a ninety-six minute movie, it's obvious that he will be back. And indeed, Fu Manchu's archenemy Colonel Nayland Smith (Nigel Green) has his doubts about Fu Manchu's death from the start. These doubts are confirmed when Danish scientist Professor Merten (Walter Rilla, last seen as an unwitting vessel for that other villainous mastermind Dr. Mabuse in the eponymous series) is kidnapped in a London cemetery, while his chauffeur is strangled to death with a Tibetan prayer scarf, a murder method favoured by Fu Manchu's henchpeople.

Christopher Lee in The Face of Fu Manchu — Fu Manchu (Christopher Lee) plots villainy.

Nayland Smith and his friend and associate Dr. Petrie (Howard Marion-Crawford) deduce that Fu Manchu is still alive – the man executed in China was a hypnotised double – and continuing his reign of crime in London.

Flowers of Evil

Professor Merten's assistant Carl Jannsen (Edgar Wallace stalwart Joachim Fuchsberger, which explains why he did not appear in Again, the Ringer) informs Smith and Petrie that the professor was experimenting with an extract of a rare Tibetan flower, the blackhill poppy. Under the right conditions, this extract can be turned into a biological weapon capable of killing millions.

Joachim Fuchsberger in The Face of Fu Manchu — Carl Jannsen tangles with one of Fu Manchu's henchmen.

The professor's research has drawn the attention of Fu Manchu, who just happens to have a handy supply of blackhill poppies, but no way of using them. So Fu Manchu sent his henchmen to kidnap the professor and when the professor refuses to cooperate, Fu Manchu kidnaps Merten's daughter Maria (Edgar Wallace regular Karin Dor) as well to use her as leverage against her father.

Walter Rilla, Karin Dor, Tsai Chin and Christopher Lee in The Face of Fu Manchu — Fu Manchu (Christopher Lee) and Lin Tang (Tsai Chin) confront Professor Merten (Walter Rilla) and his daughter Maria (Karin Dor).

In order to convince Professor Merten that he is serious, Fu Manchu executes a henchwoman, who failed him, in front of the professor and his daughter, much to the disappointment of his equally villainous daughter Lin Tang (named Fa Lo Suee in the books and played here by Tsai Chin) who'd rather whip the unfortunate woman first. The doomed henchwoman is locked into a tank that slowly fills with water and then dumped into the Thames, a murder method that's identical to the one used in the 1961 Edgar Wallace film Dead Eyes of London.

Karin Dor and Tsai Chin in The Face of Fu Manchu — Lin Tang (Tsai Chin) engages in her favourite hobby of whipping young woman, while a horrified Maria (Karin Dor) and Professor Merten (Walter Rilla) look on.

Now Professor Merten is willing to cooperate. However, he needs the notes of one Professor Gaskel who took part in an expedition to Tibet, notes which are kept in a vault in a museum. So Fu Manchu and his daughter steal the notes and hypnotise the inconvenient Professor Gaskel into committing suicide, while they're at it.

Professor Merten manages to syncretise the deadly poison from the blackhill poppy extract. Fu Manchu promptly stages a demonstration by wiping out the village of Fleetwick plus soldiers from a nearby army camp. Via a radio message, Fu Manchu announces that London will be next, unless the British government obeys him.

Walter Rilla and Karin Dor in The Face of Fu Manchu — Professor Merten (Walter Rilla) and Maria (Karin Dor) oversee the extraction of the fatal poison.

While Fu Manchu is plotting, Nayland Smith, Dr. Petrie and Carl Jannsen, who also happens to be the fiancé of the kidnapped Maria Merten, follow his trail, always one step behind. But now, they have finally located Fu Manchu's subterranean hideout under the river Thames and raid it. However, Fu Manchu manages to escape once again with Lin Tang, Professor Merten and Maria.

Things come to head in Fu Manchu's Tibetan fortress, where Fu Manchu is about to receive a shipment of blackhill poppy seeds large enough to bring the entire world to its knees. However, Nayland Smith has planted a bomb among the boxes of poppy seeds. Together with Dr. Petrie and Carl Jannsen, Smith infiltrates the fortress to free the professor and Maria. They escape, as the fortress explodes in the distance.

Nigel Green, Walter Rilla, Joachi Fuchsberger and Karin Dor in The Face of Fu Manchu — Nayland Smith (Nigel Green) and Carls Jannsen (Joachim Fuchsberger) rescue Professor Merten (Walter Rilla) and Maria (Karin Dor)

Alas, Fu Manchu's face appears superimposed over the explosion and he promises that the world shall hear from him again – in the inevitable sequel.

Yet Another Criminal Mastermind

The Face of Fu Manchu is an enjoyable addition to the supervillain mastermind genre, particularly now that the Dr. Mabuse series is taking a much deserved break. Christopher Lee is truly chilly as the titular villain, though it is a pity that the role is played not an by an Asian actor, but by a white man in make-up. Though at least Fu Manchu's sadistic daughter Lin Tang is played by Chinese British actress Tsai Chin.

If there is one problem with The Face of Fu Manchu it is that the villain is so charismatic that he overshadows the good guys. Nayland Smith and Dr. Petrie are bland characters, a bargain basement Holmes and Watson (and indeed Dr. Petrie actor Howard Marion-Crawford has played Watson in the 1954 Sherlock Holmes TV series). One wonders what Siegfried Lowitz or Gert Fröbe could have done with the role. Joachim Fuchsberger is okay as Carl Jannsen, but he is playing the standard action hero he has played so many times before. Walter Rilla as Professor Merten once again gets to be the unwitting instrument of a criminal mastermind, but at least he has a lot of fun. Karin Dor as Maria is given little to do except scream.

Nigel Green, Howard Marion Crawford and Joachim Fuchsberger in The Face of Fu Manchu — Nayland Smith (Nigel Green), Dr. Petrie (Howard Marion-Crawford) and Carl Jannsen (Joachim Fuchsberger) on the hunt for Fu Manchu.

Some critics have compared The Face of Fu Manchu to the popular James Bond movies, but I believe that the Edgar Wallace and Dr. Mabuse movies are a better comparison and not just because they share many of the same actors. For even though it is a British co-production, The Face of Fu Manchu very much belongs to the wave of West German thrillers that engulfed our cinemas in the wake of the success of the Edgar Wallace series.

However, there is one big difference and that is colour. For while the Edgar Wallace and Mabuse movies are shot in stylish black and white, The Face of Fu Manchu is in glorious, lurid colour, which director Don Sharp uses to create nigh psychedelic visuals.

Perils from the East

Fu Manchu has been criticised for being an outdated yellow peril stereotype and fostering prejudice against Asians. And indeed, complaints by Asian American groups and the Chinese embassy are the reason why Hollywood stopped making Fu Manchu movies in 1940. Nor is there any doubt that Fu Manchu and Lin Tang are stereotypes. In fact, Fu Manchu was the original yellow peril stereotype, spawning a host of imitators from pulp villains Wu Fang and Yen Sin to James Bond opponent Dr. No.

Is always portraying people of a certain race, ethnicity or nationality as villains problematic? Of course, it is. And considering that people of my nationality will inevitably turn out to be villains in any international movie I watch, I can certainly sympathise with the complaints by Asian viewers who no more want to be associated with Fu Manchu and his imitators than I want to be associated with the German villain du jour.

Nonetheless, I find The Face of Fu Manchu much less problematic than The Manchurian Candidate or even Dr. No. For Don Sharp and producer Harry Allan Towers have wisely kept Fu Manchu in the early twentieth century that birthed him and turned the movie into a period piece. As a result, The Face of Fu Manchu is very much fantasy and has no more to do with the modern People's Republic of China than a random western has to do with the contemporary United States.

East meets West?

At this point, it seems very likely that we will see Fu Manchu again on the big screen. Indeed, the villain promised as much in the final moments of the movie. And I for one certainly look forward to watching Fu Manchu and Lin Tang continue their villainous ways. Maybe we could even introduce Fu Manchu to Dr. Mabuse someday. I'm sure the two of them would get along swimmingly, though I'm not sure if the world would survive two criminal masterminds.

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction