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[July 8, 1964] The Immortal Supervillain: The Remarkable Forty-Two Year Career of Dr. Mabuse


by Cora Buhlert

The Sincerest form of Flattery

Last month, I talked about the successful West German film series based on the novels of British thriller writer Edgar Wallace as well as the many imitators they inspired. The most interesting of those imitators and the only one that is unambiguously science fiction is the Dr. Mabuse series.

Dr. Mabuse is not a new character. His roots lie in the Weimar Republic and he first appeared on screen in 1922 in Fritz Lang's Dr. Mabuse – The Gambler, based on the eponymous novel by Luxembourgian writer Norbert Jacques.

Post: Dr. Mabuse - Der Spieler

By day, Dr. Mabuse is a respected psychoanalyst and by night he runs a criminal organisation. Mabuse uses his position to infiltrate the corrupt high society of the Weimar Republic and then uses his powers of hypnosis as well as his talent as a master of disguise to commit crimes. Mabuse also employs science fictional technology such as an automobile that turns into a motorboat at the pull of a lever. Dr. Mabuse – The Gambler clearly reflects the fears of the early Weimar Republic with its hyperinflation which plunged many Germans into poverty, while the profiteers of the First World War were partying.

In the movie, Mabuse (Rudolf Klein-Rogge) is a much more unambiguous villain than in the novel. And while Norbert Jacques' Mabuse wants to establish a utopian colony in Brazil, Lang's Mabuse wants to install a reign of terror right there in Berlin. In retrospect, it's obvious why the Nazis did not like the Mabuse films.

At the end of the novel, Mabuse apparently falls to his death from an airplane. In the film, Mabuse is captured alive, but insane, leaving open the possibility of a sequel. That sequel, The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, was made in 1933.

Poster: Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse

Mabuse, still played by Rudolf Klein-Rogge, is now an inmate in a mental asylum run by Dr. Baum and spends his days scribbling plans for elaborate crimes onto scraps of paper, which he calls his testament. When Berlin is hit by a wave of crimes based on Mabuse's scribblings, this attracts the attention of Kommissar Karl Lohmann (Otto Wernicke) of the Berlin police. Based on the real life Berlin police officer Ernst Gennat, Lohmann first appeared in an unrelated movie, Fritz Lang's 1931 crime drama M. where he hunted down a child killer played by Peter Lorre.

Mabuse is the logical suspect. But he cannot have committed the crimes, since he is incarcerated in Baum's asylum. The solution to the mystery lies once more in Mabuse's hypnotic powers, which he uses on Dr. Baum. In a chilling sequence, Mabuse's spirit takes over Dr. Baum, while his body dies. The movie ends with Mabuse, now occupying the body of Dr. Baum, once more locked up in the mental asylum, madly scribbling away. With this film, the Mabuse series not only crosses over into the supernatural, but also opened up the possibility of a revival.

The film was supposed to premiere in March 1933, two months after Hitler had come to power. Joseph Goebbels, head of the newly established Ministry of Propaganda, found the movie very exciting, but banned it anyway for incitement to crime. But then, Mabuse's modus operandi bore some uncomfortable parallels to the way the Nazis spread fear and terror, while passages of Mabuse's testament were copied almost verbatim from Mein Kampf. The Testament of Dr. Mabuse became the first movie banned by the Nazis and remained unseen in Germany until 1951. Fritz Lang left Germany the day after the film was banned and went to Hollywood. Meanwhile, the evil Doctor was forgotten, as Germany descended into terror on a scale that would have exceeded even Mabuse's imagination.

But this was not the end. For Mabuse's creator Norbert Jacques sold the rights to film producer Artur Brauner, who also persuaded Fritz Lang to return to West Germany, not to adapt Mabuse, but to remake his 1921 movie The Indian Tomb.

Inspired by the success of the Edgar Wallace movies, Artur Brauner wanted to remake The Testament of Dr. Mabuse as well and asked Fritz Lang to direct. Lang, however, wanted to make a sequel. Norbert Jacques had died in 1954, so Lang adapted the dystopian novel Mr. Tot Buys a Thousand Eyes by Polish-German writer Jan Fethke a.k.a. Jean Forge. Mabuse was inserted into the storyline and the movie was released as The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse in 1960.

The Night has a Thousand Eyes

Poster: The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse

Most of the film is set at the Hotel Luxor, a luxury hotel built by the Nazis and equipped with hidden surveillance cameras in every room (the thousand eyes of the title). The hotel is now owned by a criminal organisation headed by none other than Dr. Mabuse, who after laying low during the Third Reich (or did he?) is up to his old tricks again. He records wealthy hotel guests in compromising situations and then blackmails them. If compromising situations don't happen on their own, Mabuse and his gang engineer them.

But luckily, Kommissar Kras (Gert Fröbe) is on the case. Kras is basically Kommissar Lohmann in everything but the name and also remembers Mabuse's reign of terror during the Weimar Republic, linking the old and the new Mabuse movies and making it very clear that The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse is a sequel rather than a remake. There is only one problem. Dr. Mabuse very definitely died in 1933, so who is behind this new wave of crimes?

In the end, the blind fortune teller Peter Cornelius (Wolfgang Preiss) is revealed to be Mabuse. Though Cornelius isn't his real name nor is he really a fortune teller nor really blind. Instead, he is one Professor Jordan, a psychiatrist who feels compelled to continue Mabuse's work. It is implied that Professor Jordan is the same psychiatrist in whose mental hospital Mabuse was incarcerated back in The Testament of Doctor Mabuse, even though the character names are different. But then, it is also implied that Kras and Lohmann are the same person.

Kommissar Lohmann and Mabuse
Kommissar Lohmann (Gert Fröbe) confronts Dr. Mabuse (Wolfgang Preiss)

The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse moves away from the stylish expressionism of the earlier movies towards a quasi-documentary style. The scenes inside the Hotel Luxor are implied to be footage recorded by Mabuse's cameras, turning the viewer into a voyeur. The science fiction elements are fairly light. It would certainly be possible to recreate the Hotel Luxor and its surveillance cameras with 1960s technology and indeed the new East German Interhotels are real life versions of the Hotel Luxor.

Thousand Eyes ends with Mabuse presumed dead once again. However, the film was a big commercial success and so Mabuse was promptly resurrected barely a year later. Fritz Lang had retired, so Harald Reinl, who previously worked on the Edgar Wallace series, took over the directing duties for Im Stahlnetz des Dr. Mabuse. The international title is the unimaginative The Return of Dr. Mabuse, a literal translation would be In the Steel Web of Dr. Mabuse. Shot in atmospheric black and white, Steel Web is stylistically closer to the expressionist Mabuse films of the Weimar Republic than Fritz Lang's Thousand Eyes.

Post: Steel Web of Dr. Mabuse

Mabuse's organisation now works with the Chicago mob in his quest to conquer the world. As a favour to his new allies, his gang murders a woman who is burned alive by a flamethrower that emerges from a flap in the side of a truck. Her burning body is seen lying on the sidewalk for several seconds in a scene that is shockingly brutal by the sedate standards of West German cinema.

The Berlin police once again puts an inspector played by Gert Fröbe on the case. This time, the character is actually called Kommissar Lohmann and it is strongly implied that this is the same Kommissar Lohmann as before. We also briefly meet Lohmann's wife and children at the beginning of the movie, a pleasant contrast to the many lone wolf investigators who dominate the crime genre.

Because of the mob connection, the FBI sends an agent named Joe Como (former Tarzan and current Old Shatterhand Lex Barker). Together, they uncover Mabuse's latest scheme: using a mind control drug on prison inmates to force them to commit crimes. In the end, prison warden Wolf is unmasked (literally, via ripping off a rubber mask) as Mabuse (still played by Wolfgang Preiss). During the final battle with the police, Mabuse escapes into a railway tunnel and is apparently killed by an oncoming train. Or is he?

The second postwar outing of Dr. Mabuse is a curious mix of gangster film and science fiction thriller. The gangster film elements are clearly influenced by the popularity of the German pulp hero G-Man Jerry Cotton – also note the similarities of the names Jerry Cotton and Joe Como. There are plenty of creepy moments, such as the vacant eyed convicts converging upon a power station, while a sound truck blasts out the words "I have only one lord and master, Dr. Mabuse" over and over again.

Flirting with SF

The science fiction elements were ramped up for the third movie, Die unsichtbaren Krallen des Dr. Mabuse (The Invisible Dr. Mabuse), which premiered in March 1962, directed once more by Harald Reinl.

Poster: The Invisible Dr. Mabuse

Lex Barker is back as Joe Como, this time working with Kommissar Brahm (Siegfried Lowitz, a regular of the Edgar Wallace series), since Kommissar Lohmann has apparently taken the long deserved holiday he had to postpone in the previous film. Together they tackle the case of an invisible man who haunts a theatre and stalks the dancer Liane Martin (Harald Reinl's wife and Edgar Wallace regular Karin Dor).

In spite of the title, the invisible man stalking Liane Martin is not Dr. Mabuse but Professor Erasmus, who has invented an invisibility device. An accident left the Professor disfigured and so he uses his device to visit his beloved Liane Martin, failing to realise that being stalked by an invisible man is a lot more terrifying than a scarred face.

Joe Como and Professor Erasmus
Joe Como (Lex Barker) and Professor Erasmus (Rudolf Fernau), not invisible for once.

Mabuse appropriates the device and the movie ends with Mabuse's army of invisible killers converging on a plane to kill a passenger. However, the police have placed strings with bells around the airfield and then make the invisible killers visible by spraying them with water. This time around, Mabuse is even captured, though he has gone insane.

The Invisible Dr. Mabuse seems to be two separate movies, for the haunted theatre plot and the invisible man plot don't come together until the end. Gert Fröbe is sorely missed as well. Nonetheless, the film has several memorable moments such as Liane Martin getting (almost) guillotined no less than three times, Joe Como confronting the invisible Professor in a steam bath and the army of invisible killers becoming slowly visible again in a spray of water. The special effects are surprisingly good by West German standards.

A New Testament

The next movie, released in September 1962, was a remake of The Testament of Dr. Mabuse. Mabuse is now incarcerated in a mental hospital run by Professor Pohland (Walter Rilla) and still manages to give orders to his gang via hypnotising the hapless Professor. Gert Fröbe makes a welcome return as Kommissar Lohmann, though Lex Barker's Joe Como is sadly absent, since Barker has found a more lucrative gig as Old Shatterhand in the film adaptations of Karl May's Winnetou novels. As before, Mabuse's body seemingly dies, while his spirit takes over Pohland's body.

Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse

Testament is a solid entry in the series, though it suffers in comparison with the 1933 original. It also doesn't help that anybody who has seen the original already knows the big twist. And while Mabuse's plan of causing economic collapse via flooding the market with forged banknotes clearly plays on the fears of the 1920s and 1930s with its hyperinflation, the Black Friday and the Great Depression, it feels anachronistic in postwar West Germany in the middle of a so-called economic miracle. Harald Reinl's atmospheric direction has been replaced by the more pedestrian Werner Klingler as well. I'm not the only one who feels that Testament was rather lacklustre, since the movie bombed at the box office.

Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse

Scotland Yard jagt Dr. Mabuse (Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse) premiered in September 1963. Mabuse, still in the body of Professor Pohland, has had enough of the Berlin police continuing to thwart his attempts to establish a world reign of crime and so decamps to Britain to continue his villainous ways. This time around, Mabuse steals a mind control device and plans to use it to destabilise the British government. He also stages impressive demonstrations, such as inducing a hangman to hang himself in a memorable scene.

Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse
The hanging scene from "Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse"

But Major Bill Tern of Scotland Yard (Peter van Eyck,) and Kommissar Vulpius of the Hamburg police (Werner Peters) are on Mabuse's trail. Luckily, it turns out that people wearing a certain hearing aid are immune to Mabuse's mind control device and so the police manages to arrest Mabuse and his gang. Alas, Mabuse's spirit has already moved on, leaving a hapless Professor Pohland repeating "It wasn't me, it was Mabuse. He used my brain" over and over again.

It is notable that the mind control motif – whether via hypnosis, drugs or electronic devices – appears again and again in the Mabuse series. And Professor Pohland insisting over and over again that he is completely innocent of the crimes Mabuse committed does bring to mind many former Nazis who make the same claim, though with far less justification.

Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse is a thoroughly entertaining film and curiously prescient, since one of the crimes committed by Mabuse's gang eerily mirrors the recent Great Train Robbery in Britain. Though the tendency to reuse the same actors in completely different parts (e.g. Werner Peters appeared in four of five postwar Mabuse movies, playing a different character in each one) is getting confusing by now. Of course, the Edgar Wallace films also tend to reuse the same actors over and over again (and to make matters even more confusing, several actors appear in both series). But unlike the Wallace movies, the seven Mabuse movies to date have an internal continuity.

Though like Mabuse himself, the movies tend to change their appearance from film to film. In the past forty years, the series has moved from reflecting the economic anxieties of the Weimar Republic (Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler and The Testament of Dr. Mabuse) via Cold War paranoia (The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse) and offbeat gangster thriller (The Steel Web of Dr. Mabuse) to science fiction thriller cum theatre horror (The Invisible Dr. Mabuse) back to economic fears (The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, take two). With Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse, the Mabuse series has morphed into an Edgar Wallace movie. And indeed, the screenplay is a loose adaptation of the 1962 novel The Device by Bryan Edgar Wallace, son of Edgar.

Whither Mabuse?

The flexibility of the Mabuse series and the character himself ensures its longevity. Dr. Mabuse has terrorised Germany for forty years now and may well continue for years or even decades to come, for Mabuse's nature as a malevolent spirit allows him to jump from body to body, plotting new crimes and leaving behind muttering hosts who insist that they didn't do anything, Mabuse did.

What form will the Mabuse series take next? Rumours suggest that the next Mabuse movie Die Todesstrahlen des Dr. Mabuse (The Death Rays of Dr. Mabuse), due out in September, is inspired by the popular James Bond movies.

I certainly will be in the cinema, watching as Germany's greatest supervillain plots yet again to conquer the world and establish a reign of crime and chaos.


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[June 4, 1964] Weird Menace and Villainy in the London Fog: The West German Edgar Wallace Movies


by Cora Buhlert

The biggest phenomenon in West German cinemas in the past five years is none other than Edgar Wallace, Britain's king of thrillers.

The enduring popularity of Edgar Wallace in Germany may seem baffling, since Wallace died in 1932 and most of his thrillers were written in the 1910s and 1920s. American readers will probably best remember Wallace as the creator of King Kong and screenwriter of the eponymous movie.


Edgar Wallace

However, Germans have long loved Edgar Wallace, which is odd, since Edgar Wallace did not particularly like Germany, as many of his writings show. Nonetheless, his thrillers were hugely popular in Germany in the 1920s and early 1930s, until the Nazis banned them along with the entire crime genre as "too subversive". In the 1950s, paperback publisher Goldmann started reissuing the Edgar Wallace thrillers to great success. And as always when something is successful, others took note. One of them was "Heftroman" publisher Pabel, whose Utopia Kriminal line of science fiction thrillers was directly inspired by the popularity of the Edgar Wallace novels.

German film producers also took note and indeed there were a few German Edgar Wallace adaptations during the silent and early talkie era. However, plans to adapt Edgar Wallace novels in 1950s repeatedly failed, because crime and thriller movies supposedly did not sell in postwar West Germany, since viewers allegedly demanded harmless musicals and romances set in beautiful landscapes rather than tales of crime and murder. In 1959, Danish film producer Preben Philipsen took a chance and adapted the Edgar Wallace novel The Fellowship of the Frog for German audiences. The result was a huge success and led to a wave of more or less faithful Edgar Wallace adaptations (nineteen to date) and copycats that show no sign of abating.


Poster for Face of the Frog (1959)

The Edgar Wallace movies are primarily crime thrillers, though there is nothing remotely realistic about them. Instead, the films are set in a fog-drenched England and particularly London that never was, full of dodgy harbour bars where nefarious crimes are plotted as curvy sirens sing torch songs, where the River Thames is used a convenient corpse disposal and where Scotland Yard is headed by a dim-witted gentleman named Sir John (played by Siegfried Schürenberg who serves as a sort of link between the various movies) with a taste for buxom secretaries. Inspectors are handsome and dashing, played by either Heinz Drache or Joachim Fuchsberger, unless they are played by the plump and balding Siegfried Lowitz, in which case he has a dashing Sergeant. There is always a comic relief character, often a bumbling butler, who is usually played by Eddi Arent.


Joachim Fuchsberger, Siegfried Schürenberg and Eddi Arent in The Squeaker (1963)

Women in Edgar Wallace movies come in three flavours, mysterious elderly ladies, usually played by veteran UfA actresses, who may or may not be involved in the villain's machinations, buxom femme fatales who are involved with the villain and often end up paying the ultimate price for their villainous ways (Eva Pflug in Face of the Frog was the best of them) and finally, young and pretty damsels in distress (often played by Karin Dor), who find themselves pursued and often kidnapped by the villain, before they are rescued and end up marrying the dashing Inspector.


Eva Pflug being admired by Jochen Brockmann in Face of the Frog (1959)

Occasionally, the Wallace movies manage to subvert expectations. And so the dashing detective is unmasked as the killer in The Red Circle (1960), while the wide-eyed ingenue is revealed to be the showgirl slashing killer in this year's Room 13.


Poster for The Red Circle

Wallace villains are never just ordinary criminals, but run improbably large and secretive organisations with dozens of henchmen. At least one of the henchmen is deformed or flat out insane, played either by former wrestler Ady Berber or a charismatic young actor named Klaus Kinski, who gave the performance of his life as a mute and insane animal handler in last year's The Squeaker.


Klaus Kinski threatening Inge Langen in The Squeaker

The crimes are extremely convoluted, usually involve robberies, blackmail or inheritance schemes and are always motivated by greed. Murder methods are never ordinary and victims are dispatched via harpoons, poison blow guns, guillotines or wild animals. The villains inevitably have strange monikers such as the Frog, the Shark, the Squeaker, the Avenger, the Green Archer or the Black Abbot and often wear a costume to match. Their identity is always a mystery and pretty much every character comes under suspicion until the big reveal at the end. And once the mask comes off, the villain is inevitably revealed to be a staunch pillar of society and often a member of Sir John's club.


The Frog kidnapping Eva Anthes in Face of the Frog (1959)


The Green Archer terrifies Karin Dor in The Green Archer (1961)


Eddi Arent attempts to apprehend the the Black Abbot in the eponymous film (1963)

The Edgar Wallace films are cheaply made, with Hamburg or Berlin standing in for London and German castles standing in for British mansions. Nonetheless, they have a unique visual flair, courtesy of directors Harald Reinl, Jürgen Roland and Alfred Vohrer. All films are shot in stylish black and white, using the widescreen Ultrascope process. Contrasts of light and shadow are used to great effect, such as the shadow of a dangling noose falling onto a stark white prison wall in Face of the Frog. Strange camera angles are common and scenes are shot through the eyes of an unseen killer, through the dial of a rotary telephone and in one memorable case, though the mouth of Sir John chomping on a carrot. The highly stylised look of the Edgar Wallace films is uncommon in contemporary German cinema. Instead, the Edgar Wallace films take their visual inspiration from the expressionist cinema of the 1920s and early 1930s, returning German filmmaking to where it was before the Nazis took over.


Karin Dor spies on The Terrible People (1960)

Are the Edgar Wallace films science fiction? Well, they are mainly crime thrillers, though they also include horror elements and take visual inspiration from the German horror cinema of more than thirty years ago. The Dead Eyes of London from 1961 is probably the closest the Wallace series has come to pure horror to date, largely due to the performance of Ady Berber as the blind and supernaturally strong killer Jack.


Program book for The Dead Eyes of London, featuring Ady Berber threatening Karin Baal

Science fiction elements also frequently appear in the Edgar Wallace movies, often in the form of death traps and complicated murder methods. The Green Archer (1961) uses the old standby of the underground chamber (in which the villain, played by the excellent Gert Fröbe, has kept the lover who spurned him imprisoned for decades) that slowly fills with water. The Strange Countess (1961) features a deadly electrified grid, which protects the jewels the titular villainess has stolen. The Countess, played with chilling haughtiness by silent era veteran Lil Dagover, is eventually electrocuted by her own death trap. Meanwhile, in The Dead Eyes of London, a domed glass tank in the basement of a church-run home for the blind is used to drown wealthy men before their bodies are thrown into the Thames, allowing the villainous Dead Eye gang to claim their life insurance. And in The Squeaker, the titular villain dispatches his opponents via a blow gun shooting crystals of snake venom. As mentioned above, the criminal plots and murder methods in the Wallace are always convoluted and often don't make a whole lot of sense. But that doesn't matter, because you're usually much too captivated by the going-ons on screen to worry about such little matters as logic.


Lil Dagover prowls her castle in The Strange Countess (1961)

The 1962 film The Door With Seven Locks even features a bona fide mad scientist, played by Wallace film regular Pinkas Braun, who conducts medical experiments such as brain transplants in a hidden vault underneath a country mansion. This makes the otherwise not particularly remarkable The Door With Seven Locks the most science fictional Edgar Wallace film to date.


Poster for The Door with the Seven Locks (1962)

Critics don't like the Edgar Wallace films, complaining about the lack of realism, the alleged predictability, the lurid and sensational nature of the crimes portrayed and the (by West German standards) high levels of violence. Those critics have a point, for the Edgar Wallace films are lurid and sensational, violent and completely unrealistic. However, the sheer artificiality is why I enjoy these movies so much and why I inevitably head for the neighbourhood movie theatre whenever a new Edgar Wallace movie premieres (and we currently get several of them every year). Even the lesser entries of the series are well worth watching and the standouts such as Face of the Frog, The Green Archer, The Dead Eyes of London, The Inn on the River, The Squeaker or The Indian Scarf provide excellent chills and thrills.


Poster for The Squeaker (1963) )

As for those who claim that the Edgar Wallace movies have nothing to do with real life, well, they're mistaken, for the Wallace films do reflect contemporary West German concerns, though through the distorted lens of a funhouse mirror. The fact that the motive for the bizarre crimes on screen is always greed reflects concerns about the rampant materialism in postwar West Germany. Just as the fact that the villain is inevitably revealed to be an upstanding pillar of society under his (or more rarely her) mask is all too reminiscent of recent revelations that quite a few politicians, judges, doctors, professors, civil servants and captains of industry used to be Nazis and still somehow managed to continue their careers unimpeded in postwar West Germany. As for the tendency of henchmen in Wallace movies to mutter, "But I was just following orders. You can't blame me", when captured – well, where have we heard that before?


Poster for The Terrible People (1960)

The Edgar Wallace movies offer pleasantly comforting shudders, as the viewer delves into a strange parallel world, where London is the murder capital of Europe and the Squeaker, the Frog, the Black Abbot and the rest of the Wallace menagerie stalk the fog-shrouded streets to commit bizarre crimes. And even though all movies stand alone, they are set in the same universe with Siegfried Schürenberg's Sir John acting as a link between the different stories. This shared universe concept occasionally shows up in literature such as the Cthulhu mythos, but has never really been tried in movies so far. The possibilities are limitless.


Sir John (Siegfried Schürenberg) is shocked that the latest villain turns out to be yet another member of his club.

The success of the Edgar Wallace movies quickly spawned a host of imitators. Producer Artur Brauner acquired the rights to several crime novels by Bryan Edgar Wallace, son of Edgar Wallace, while Constantin Film adapted several novels by Czech writer and Edgar Wallace imitator Louis Weinert-Wilton. Other imitations are more of a stretch, such as a series of Wallace style movies featuring G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown.

However, the most interesting of the many crime thrillers released in the wake of the Edgar Wallace movies are the Dr. Mabuse movies produced by Artur Brauner. Based on a supervillain character created by Norbert Jacques in the 1920s, they are not just unambiguously science fiction, but also a return to the glory days of German cinema during the Weimar Republic. But that's a subject for another day.


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[November 24, 1963] Mourning on two continents

[President Kennedy's body has been transported to the Capitol where it will remain in state pending his funeral tomorrow.  Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, West Germans have offered an outpouring of sorrow for their fallen fellow Berliner…]


by Cora Buhlert

Like most West Germans, news of the terrible events in Dallas reached me at home, just settling onto the sofa for an evening of TV. Like some ninety percent of West German television owners, I had my set tuned to the eight o'clock evening news tagesschau. But instead of the familiar tagesschau fanfare, the screen remained dark for a minute or two, something which has never happened before in the eleven years the program has been on the air. When the image finally returned, the visibly shaken news anchor Karl-Heinz Köpcke reported that John F. Kennedy had been shot in Dallas, Texas, and was rushed to hospital. By the end of the program, we knew that Kennedy had not survived.

John F. Kennedy was extremely popular in West Germany, not least because of his memorable visit to our country earlier this year. And so many West Germans spontaneously burst into tears. People called friends and family, rang their neighbours' doorbells and shouted the news from windows to random passers-by on the street. Theatres and cinemas interrupted their programming, dancehalls closed down (on a Friday evening, i.e. prime business time) and in less an hour, the entire country was in shock.

The shock and grief was nowhere greater than in West Berlin, where Kennedy had won the hearts of the population, when he proclaimed "Ich bin ein Berliner" earlier this year. The people of Berlin took him by his word and mourned him as one of their own.

The students of the two big West Berlin universities heard the news during a student dance at the Hilton Hotel and spontaneously took to the streets, joined by many other Berliners. Several thousand – overwhelmingly young – people marched to the Rathaus Schöneberg, West Berlin's city hall, bearing torches, flowers and placards. 

"Berlin has lost its best friend", West Berlin's mayor Willy Brandt proclaimed last night on the very spot in front of the Rathaus Schöneberg where John F. Kennedy held his now historic speech only five months ago, while the gathered mourners provisionally renamed the square in front of the city hall "John-F.-Kennedy Platz". By now, Willy Brandt has announced that the square will be named in honour of Kennedy for real on Monday. I'm sure it won't be the last John F. Kennedy street or square in West Germany.

By today, the soon to be John-F.-Kennedy Platz was drowning in flowers and thousands of mourning West Germans had signed one of the condolence books laid out around the country. In West Berlin and elsewhere, people placed candles in their windows in memory of John F. Kennedy. Reportedly, flickering candles have also spotted on the far side of the Berlin Wall.

For John F. Kennedy was not just a friend of Berlin, he was a friend of all of Germany. 




[Oct. 30, 1963] Jim Knopf and Lukas the Train Engine Driver by Michael Ende: A Classic in the Making


by Cora Buhlert

Today, I'm going to talk about a children's fantasy series that may well be a future classic. But first, I want to talk about politics. For since October 16, 1963, West Germany has a new chancellor.

Now West Germany does have a president, currently Heinrich Lübke, but he is a figurehead with little political power. The real power rests with the chancellor. And since 1949, there has only been one chancellor, Konrad Adenauer. However, his final term was beset by scandals and so Mr. Adenauer finally resigned at the ripe old age of 87.

I have to admit that I'm not a big fan of Konrad Adenauer. He did a good job rebuilding the country after WWII and his place in history is assured. But after fourteen years, it is time to let someone else have a go. The new chancellor, Ludwig Ehrhard, was secretary of economics in Adenauer's cabinet and is largely responsible for West Germany's so-called economic miracle. Therefore, I don't expect many changes, but maybe a somewhat younger government.

But now let's leave politics behind, because today I want to introduce you to a wonderful fantasy duology by up and coming author Michael Ende. Though marketed as children's books, these are books all ages can enjoy.

A most unusual visitor

 

Michael Ende, who will turn 34 in two weeks, burst onto the scene three years ago with his novel Jim Knopf und Lukas der Lokomotivführer (Jim Knopf and Lukas the Train Engine Driver) followed last year by the sequel Jim Knopf und die Wilde 13 (Jim Knopf and the Wild 13). The first book has just come out in English as Jim Button and Luke the Train Engine Driver. I hope the sequel will follow soon.

The book opens in Lummerland (Morrowland in English), a small island kingdom with two mountains in the middle of the ocean. Lummerland is ruled by King Alfons, the Quarter-to-Twelfth, and has only three inhabitants, Herr Ärmel (Mr. Sleeve), a bowler-hatted gentleman whose profession is being a loyal subject, Frau Waas (Mrs. Whaat) who runs the general store, and Lukas who drives the steam locomotive Emma around Lummerland.

This balance is upset when the mail boat delivers a parcel with a barely legible address and the number 13 as the sender. The inhabitants of Lummerland decide to open the parcel, hoping to find a clue about the recipient inside. Instead, they find a black baby boy. The new arrival, christened Jim Knopf (Jim Button) is quickly accepted. Frau Waas adopts Jim, Herr Ärmel becomes his teacher and Lukas makes him his apprentice, train engine driver being a dream job for many German children.

Lummerland may seem absurd to adult readers, but it recalls the vanished world of pre-WWI Germany with its micro-states, complete with pompous rulers, where every small town had its own post office and train station. Lummerland also seems to owe more than a little to the 1958 painting Die Angst der Berge (The Fear of the Mountains) by Michael Ende's father, surrealist painter Edgar Ende. And indeed, Ende has confirmed that the painting was one of the inspirations for the story.

The fact that Jim Knopf is black may surprise many readers. There have always been black Germans, even during the Third Reich. And after World War II, their number grew as romance blossomed between black American GIs and German women and resulted in mixed race children. About five thousand so-called "occupation babies" were born in West Germany since 1945. They were subject to discrimination, both from the US Army, which discourages fraternisation, and from West German society, where the racism of the Nazi regime still festers. Some mixed race couples married and went to the US. But in many cases, the fathers were sent off to fight in Korea, Vietnam or elsewhere, leaving the mothers alone with their children. Many women were pressured to give their children up for adoption. Some of the children were adopted by black American families, others were sent to Denmark, Sweden and the Netherlands.

The plight of mixed race children has been tackled before, e.g. in the 1952 movie Toxi about an abandoned little girl who is reunited with her American father. Nonetheless, Michael Ende's choice to make Jim Knopf black is remarkable, because his situation mirrors that of many mixed race German children. His biological parents are nowhere in sight; Jim is an orphan found in a box. However, unlike his real life counterparts, Jim is accepted by the people of Lummerland and his race is never an issue. He is one of them from the moment he arrives.

Trouble is brewing in Lummerland, however, because the small island is becoming overcrowded. King Alfons decrees that one of Lummerland's inhabitants has to leave. The unlucky inhabitant chosen is – no, not Jim – but Emma, Lukas' beloved locomotive. With Emma banished, Lukas decides to leave as well. Jim tags along, because he doesn't want to leave either Lukas or Emma. Lukas and Jim set out to sea aboard Emma, who is surprisingly seagoing for a locomotive.

Eventually, Jim, Lukas and Emma reach China, where they befriend Ping Pong, grandson of the Emperor's personal chef. Ping Pong tells Jim and Lukas that the Emperor is grieving because his daughter Princess Li Si has been kidnapped and is held prisoner in the dragon city of Kummerland (Sorrowland). Of course, Jim and Lukas immediately offer to rescue the princess.

But in order to see the Emperor, they first have to brave the labyrinthine Imperial bureaucracy, which is a parody of bureaucracies everywhere. Jim and Lukas also incur the wrath of prime minister Pi Pa Po, who is about to have them executed. Luckily, Ping Pong fetches the Emperor who saves Jim and Lukas, fires the villainous Pi Pa Po and makes Ping Pong prime minister instead.

Ende's China feels as fallen out of time as Lummerland. It's a land of bonzes and emperors, pigtail braids and rijstafeln (actually a Dutch Indonesian dish) that has more in common with Franz Lehar's operetta The Land of Smiles than with Chairman Mao's People's Republic of China. However, while Lummerland feels nostalgic, the orientalist clichés of Ende's China are problematic. A fictional country would have been a better choice.

Jim and Lukas learn that Princess Li Si called for help via a message in a bottle, which includes the address where she is being held prisoner, Old Street 133 in Kummerland. Jim recognises the address, because the same address was written on the parcel which brought him to Lummerland. Maybe rescuing the princess can also shed some light on Jim's origin.

Our heroes travel through fantastic landscapes, brave untold dangers and eventually, reach the Land of the Thousand Volcanoes. Here, they make another friend, half-dragon Nepomuk, who knows the way to Kummerland but cannot travel there himself because only pure-blooded dragons are allowed to enter Kummerland. Nepomuk, however, is half dragon and half hippopotamus. Adult readers will see parallels between the dragons' obsession with racial purity and Nazi race theory. And indeed, the Ende family was at odds with the Nazi regime, which branded the paintings of Michael's father Edgar Ende as degenerate art.

Jim and Lukas enter Kummerland by disguising Emma as a dragon. They locate Old Street 133 and find a school, where several children, including Li Si, are chained to desks, with the dragon Frau Mahlzahn (Mrs. Grindtooth), whose idea of pedagogics is barking orders at her pupils, as their teacher. Author Michael Ende is a supporter of Waldorf education and has said that Frau Mahlzahn's school was inspired by his experiences with the Nazi education system.

Our heroes overpower Frau Mahlzahn and free the children. Li Si explains that the children have been kidnapped by a pirate gang called the Wild 13 and sold to Frau Mahlzahn. The same fate was intended for Jim, only that he was mailed to Lummerland instead.

Jim, Lukas, Emma and Li Si return to China with a reformed Frau Mahlzahn in tow. The Emperor promises Li Si's hand to Jim, though both of them are a little young to get married. Frau Mahlzahn announces that she will hibernate to become a golden dragon of wisdom. Frau Mahlzahn also comes up with a solution to Lummerland's space problems, for she knows the location of a floating island that would make a good extension for Lummerland.

The novel ends with Lukas, Jim. Li Si and Emma returning home, the floating island in tow, which is dubbed Neu-Lummerland. And not a moment too soon, for Lukas reveals that Emma is pregnant. I don't even want to imagine the mechanics of this, but luckily the young target audience is more accepting. Emma gives birth to a baby locomotive named Molly and Jim now has a locomotive of his own.

Jim Knopf's adventures continue!

 

The adventures of Jim, Lukas and their friends continue in Jim Knopf und die Wilde 13 (Jim Knopf and the Wild 13). As the title indicates, the second book focuses on Frau Mahlzahn's partners in crime, the pirate gang known as the Wild 13, who remain unseen in the first book. Though Wild 13 is a misnomer, for there are only twelve pirates, all identical brothers, but they counted the leader twice. What is more, each pirate can only write a single letter of the alphabet, which explains their spelling problems and why their mailings keep ending up at the wrong address.

When the Wild 13 kidnap Molly, Jim, Lukas, Emma and stowaway Li Si go after them. Everybody except Jim is taken prisoner. Jim uses the fact that the pirates aren't particularly bright against them and gets them to accept him as their leader. One thing I like about the Jim Knopf books is that the villains are reformed rather than vanquished. This solution might seem a little too neat for adults, but learning that enemies can become friends is an important lesson for kids.

Jim also learns the truth about his origin. He is Prince Myrrhen of the sunken land of Jamballa who was kidnapped and sold to Frau Mahlzahn, but ended up in Lummerland instead. And because a prince needs a kingdom, Frau Mahlzahn and the Wild 13 help Jim raise Jamballa from the ocean (after sinking it in the first place). Jim takes the throne, marries Li Si and everybody lives happily ever after.

The parallels between Jamballa and Atlantis are obvious. Ende subverts the Nazi take on the Atlantis myth here, according to which Atlantis is the original homeland of the Aryan race. One example is the 1930s Heftroman series Sun Koh – Heir of Atlantis by Paul Alfred Müller a.k.a. Freder van Holk, which has several parallels to Jim Knopf's story. Like Sun Koh, Jim is the prince of a sunken kingdom, which he raises from the ocean. Only that in Ende's version, the original inhabitants of Atlantis – ahem, Jamballa – were not Über-Aryans, but descendants of the Biblical Wise Man Caspar and therefore black.

Michael Ende does his best to create a diverse and inclusive world, where yesterday's enemies can become today's friends and little black boys can become both kings and train engine drivers and marry the princess, too. Li Si is not just a damsel in distress, but a smart and resourceful person in her own right. Future generations may find issues with the books, but for now Michael Ende has created a remarkably progressive fantasy series.
 

A hard but certain sell

 
The reaction to the books was mixed. It took Michael Ende three years to find a publisher. Furthermore, contemporary German literature is focussed on realism and fantasy novels are dismissed as escapism. This is unfair, for the Jim Knopf novels are so much more. The jury of the Deutscher Jugendbuchpreis agreed and named Jim Knopf and Lukas the Train Engine Driver the best children's book of 1960. The popularity of the Jim Knopf books inspired the Augsburger Puppenkiste marionette theatre to adapt them into puppet plays, which were also filmed for television. And children everywhere love the adventures of Jim, Lukas and friends.

Jim's story came to a neat ending in Jim Knopf and the Wild 13, but will adventurers like Jim and Lukas really retire or does Michael Ende have yet more stories up his sleeve? But whether Ende revisits Lummerland or not, he is a great emerging voice of German fantasy and I for one can't wait to see what he will do next.

A lovely story about a boy, his friends and his locomotive. Four and a half stars.




[July 8, 1963] The Future in a Divided Land, Part 2 (An Overview of Science Fiction in East and West Germany)


by Cora Buhlert

I'm back to continue my overview of (West) German science fiction begun last month. Today, I'll talk about Perry Rhodan, Germany's most successful science fiction series. The brainchild of writers Clark Dalton a.k.a. Walter Ernsting and K.H. Scheer, the "Heftroman" series Perry Rhodan started two years ago, in September 1961, and will reach its landmark 100th issue in a couple of weeks.

"Unternehmen Stardust", the first issue of Perry Rhodan, begins in the not so far off future of 1971. International tensions are running high and the Western Bloc, the somewhat diminished Eastern Bloc and the rising Asian Federation are at each other's throats. In this climate, the spaceship Stardust under the command of Major Perry Rhodan of the US Space Force embarks on humanity's first trip to the moon. However, Rhodan and his crew find more than they bargained for when they come across an alien spaceship that crashed on the moon months before. Aboard the spaceship, Perry Rhodan and fellow crewmember Reginald Bull encounter the Arkonoids, a group of humanoid aliens led by the striking Thora de Zoltral and the scientist Crest de Zoltral. The Arkonoids were on a mission to locate the legendary planet of eternal life in order to heal the cancer-stricken Crest, when their ship crashed.

Thora is initially suspicious about the humans and their motives, though she is also fascinated by Perry Rhodan. Crest is more open towards the Earthmen and quickly strikes up a friendship with Rhodan, who offers to take him back to Earth for treatment (apparently, cancer treatment will make great advances in the eight years until then).

However, instead of returning to the US, Rhodan lands the Stardust with Crest on board in the Gobi desert, which he deems remote enough to keep the Arkonoids and their advanced technology out of the hands of the warring powers of Earth. For Perry Rhodan has become disillusioned with the power blocs on Earth and the resulting risk of nuclear war. So he severs his alliance with the US and the Western Bloc and declares himself a citizen of the world instead. He also founds a new state, the so-called Third Power, in the Gobi desert around the landing site of the Stardust and proceeds to recruit people from all over the world, particularly mutants with ESP powers, to his cause. And because establishing a new state requires a lot of capital, Perry Rhodan also recruits a disgraced banker named Homer G. Adams to procure said capital via clever investments. In a genre which all too often portrays galactic empires operating without any economic basis whatsoever, acknowledging that empires, galactic or otherwise, cost money is truly a breath of fresh air.

The Western Bloc, the Eastern Bloc and the Asian Federation may be at odds otherwise, but they can all agree on one thing: Perry Rhodan and his Third Power are the enemy and must be eliminated. And so they launch a nuclear strike against the Stardust landing site and the city that has sprung up around it, only to be thwarted by superior Arkonoid technology in the form of an energy dome. Eventually, the Third Power is accepted as an independent state, while the remaining three blocs change their warlike ways and finally join the Third Power to form a united world state.

Mind you, all this and more happens in the first ten issues of the series. So after having made contact with aliens, founding a state, preventing World War III, ending the Cold War and uniting and pacifying a divided Earth, the question is what will Perry Rhodan do for an encore? Well, Rhodan established a base on Venus, led an expedition to Vega, put down a robot revolt, solved the great galactic riddle and gained immortality. What is more, he also found personal happiness, when the sparks that had been flying between him and Arkonoid commander Thora blossomed into love. Perry and Thora were married and even had a son, though sadly Thora died in issue 78 published earlier this year. What is more, Thomas Cardif, Thora's and Perry's son, blames his father for his mother's death and is in the process of turning into a villain in his quest for revenge. 

Considering at what a fast clip the plot moves, it is astonishing that the writing team, still headed by Walter Ernsting a.k.a. Clark Dalton and K.H. Scheer, keeps coming up with new stories to tell. The cast continues to grow and includes such memorable characters as fan favourite Gucky, a telepathic alien rodent who just happened to look like a cross between a mouse and a beaver, and recent addition Atlan, an ancient Arkonoid who once commanded a base on the legendary continent of Atlantis and has recently woken from suspended animation, all portrayed on the striking covers by artist Johnnny Bruck. Unfortunately, the cast of Perry Rhodan is still overwhelmingly male, especially after the recent loss of Thora.

Because "Heftromane" are cheap and offer a lot of bang for buck, they are frequently read by teenagers and working class people. As a result, they frequently come under fire from the usual busybodies concerned about depictions of violence and (mild) sexuality and what these will do to impressionable minds. Until recently, those busybodies focussed their attention mainly on G-Man Jerry Cotton and the World War II series Der Landser, which actually deserves all the criticism it receives. However, with the enormous success of Perry Rhodan, the series has become a new favoured target of "Heftroman" critics. The charges levelled at Perry Rhodan are largely the same that were previously hurled at G-Man Jerry Cotton and Der Landser, namely that Perry Rhodan is fascist, that the series glorifies war and violence and that it promotes racial purity and a Führer cult. Futurist Dr. Robert Jungk even referred to Perry Rhodan as the "galactic Hitler".

So how justified are those criticisms? Well, Perry Rhodan certainly is a leader figure, immortal and almost all powerful. And initially, he is not exactly an elected leader but one who appoints himself, though this is remedied in later issues, when the Third Power and later the united world state Terra elect him as their president. What is more, the Perry Rhodan series can be heavy on action and warfare on occasion, described in loving detail by K.H. Scheer, whose penchant for fight scenes has gained him the nickname "Hand Grenade Herbert", even though Scheer did not experience any fighting in World War II, unlike his co-author Walter Ernsting. However, what the critics miss is that in spite of all the cosmic action and intergalactic warfare, Perry Rhodan is a man of peace, who strives to end the Cold War and the threat of nuclear annihilation. Perry Rhodan's friends and allies include humans of many nations and even aliens. And apart from the initial land grab in the Gobi desert, Perry Rhodan does not actually conquer other planets either. Finally, in this era of global strife, the vision of a united humanity as presented in the Perry Rhodan series is certainly seductive. Considering that the first issue came out only a few months after the building of the Berlin Wall literally cemented the division of Germany (and was almost certainly influenced by these real world events), it is not surprising that Perry Rhodan's vision of a united world has struck a chord in so many fans.

The enormous success of Perry Rhodan did not just draw the attention of critics, but also inspired other publishers to create their own ongoing science fiction series. And so Pabel, who already had a foot in the West German science fiction market with their Utopia franchise, launched a Perry Rhodan competitor named Mark Powers in 1962, initially in Utopia and later as a separate series. Mark Powers was introduced as a former military officer whose excessive courage and honesty brought him into conflict with his superiors. Now a sort of private troubleshooter, Powers and his good friend Al "Biggy" Bighead investigate mysterious objects and occurrences which inevitably involve alien invasion attempts.

The central concept is not bad and might have made for an interesting series, especially since the first few issues were penned by Freder van Holk a.k.a. Paul Alfred Müller, a true veteran of German science fiction who had penned the "Heftroman" series Sun Koh – The Heir of Atlantis and Jan Mayen – Master of Atomic Power before the war. However, audiences have moved on. The fact that Müller and his co-author K.H. Schmidt are proponents of the Hollow Earth theory and insisted on integrating it into Mark Powers didn't help either, since contemporary audiences are no longer as willing to accept stories of underground civilisations inside Earth as they were in the 1930s. And while Walter Ernsting and K.H. Scheer took great care to create plot arcs and outlines for Perry Rhodan to ensure consistency, no such efforts were made for Mark Powers. As a result, the early issues are something of a mess of unconnected stories that just happen to star two characters named Mark Powers and Al Bighead. Several early stories by authors such as J.E. Wells and Jim Parker creator Alf Tjörnsen are also obvious rewrites of earlier novels with only the names of the protagonists changed.

The publishers attempted to save Mark Powers by forcing a radical retooling of the series from issue 19 on. Paul Alfred Müller and K.H. Schmidt were ousted and Alf Tjörnsen became head author. Mark Powers got his own spaceship, the Meteor, and a regular crew. Unfortunately, the rebooted Mark Powers hewed way too close to Perry Rhodan to develop its own identity and new characters such as the alien scientist Chrech Acham and the telepathic alien bear Smarty were clearly carbon copies of Crest and Gucky of Perry Rhodan fame. As of this writing, Mark Powers is still hanging on, though it has never managed to evolve beyond a pale Perry Rhodan imitation. 

And that's it for now. Next time, we'll take a peek across the iron curtain to see what's going on in East German and East European science fiction.




[June 8, 1963] The Future in a Divided Land (An Overview of Science Fiction in East and West Germany) Part 1

[The Journey is joined today by talented author and fan, Cora Buhlert, who expands our coverage of the world significantly…]


by Cora Buhlert

Living in Germany, you cannot help but feel cut off from the wider world of science fiction. Therefore, I always look forward to receiving the latest issue of Galactic Journey in my mailbox, because it allows me to keep up with the latest developments in the genre in the US, the UK and elsewhere.

As a big fan of the Journey, I was thrilled to be asked to give you an overview of the current state of science fiction in Germany. Everybody who regularly follows the news will of course know that since 1949, there are not one but two Germanys: the Federal Republic of Germany, commonly referred to as West Germany, and the so-called German Democratic Republic, better known as East Germany. In the past fourteen years, the border between the two Germanys has become increasingly insurmountable, culminating in the construction of the Berlin Wall two years ago.

I am fortunate enough to live in West Germany and therefore the main focus of this article will be on West German science fiction. However, I will also take a look at what is going on in East Germany.

In the US and UK, science fiction is very much a magazine genre, even if paperback novels are playing an increasingly bigger role. In West Germany, there are a couple of science fiction publishers, such as the Balowa and Pfriem, which specialise in hardcovers aimed at the library market, as well as the paperback science fiction lines of Heyne, Fischer and Goldmann. The three paperback publishers focus mainly on translations, whereas the library publishers offer a mix of translations and works by German authors. Though Goldmann has recently started publishing some German language authors such as the promising new Austrian voice Herbert W. Franke in its science fiction paperback line.

However, the main medium for science fiction and indeed any kind of genre fiction in West Germany is still the so-called "Heftroman:" digest-sized 64-page fiction magazines that are sold at newsstands, gas stations, grocery stories and wherever magazines are sold. Whereas American and British science fiction magazines usually include several stories as well as articles, letter pages, etc…, a "Heftroman" contains only a single novel, technically a novella. "Heftromane" are the direct descendants of the American dime novel and the British penny dreadful – indeed, they are also referred to as "Groschenroman", which is a literal translation of "dime novel".

There is a huge range of "Heftromane," covering various genres. The most popular are probably the western and romance, with subgenres such as aristocratic romance, alpine romance or doctor and nurse romance. Crime and mystery series are also popular, as are adventure and war stories. By comparison to these flames, science fiction is still a small but growing flicker.

There were shortlived German language science fiction "Heftromane" published in the late 1940s in Germany, Austria and in Switzerland. However, the postwar era of (West) German "Heftroman" science fiction began exactly ten years ago in 1953, when Pabel, one of several publishers of "Heftromane", introduced its latest series Utopia – Jim Parkers Abenteuer im Weltraum. Though the first issue was anything but utopian, considering that it was set in a penal colony on the moon, where convicts are forced to shovel nuclear waste. The protagonist is Jim Parker, an American space ship commander in the employ of the Atomic Territorium. Together with his German pal Fritz Wernicke, Parker spends the next 43 issues bouncing around the solar system, while tangling with the villainous "Yellow Union". The Jim Parker stories were written by one Alf Tjörnsen whose identity remained mysterious for many years. Though Tjörnsen has recently been revealed as a pen name for author Richard Johannes Rudat.

Compared to American science fiction, the Jim Parker stories felt old-fashioned, a throwback to the 1920s and 1930s. The science was often laughably bad as well. And so, after 43 biweekly issues of Jim Parker's adventures in space, Utopia changed its name to Utopia Zukunftsroman and began alternating standalone novellas with the Jim Parker stories. Initially, those standalone stories were written by German authors, usually operating under house names, but from 1955 on, Utopia also published translations of American science fiction by authors such as John W. Campbell, Leigh Brackett and Murray Leinster, as well as Britishers like Eric Frank Russell. Due to the constraints of the "Heftroman" format with its 64 page limit, these translated works were heavily abridged. Nonetheless, to many German fans they served as the first introduction to the wider world of American science fiction.

The success of Utopia Zukunftsroman spawned several spin-offs. The first of these was Utopia Großband, a thicker 94-page "Heftroman" which debuted in 1954 and allowed for publishing translations of American science fiction novels, though once again many novels were mercilessly cut to fit the format. Utopia Sonderband, later Utopia Magazin, an anthology magazine in the style of the American science fiction magazines, followed in 1955. The final spin-off of the Utopia family was Utopia Kriminal, which debuted in 1956 and billed itself as a series focussed on futuristic crime novels, inspired by the success of the Edgar Wallace thrillers with their mixture of suspense, science fiction elements and outright horror. Utopia Kriminal published a lot of translated weird fiction by writers such as Frenchman Jean David and Americans Norvell W. Page and A. Merritt.

However, after its initial success Pabel's Utopia franchise has fallen on hard times of late. Utopia Kriminal and Utopia Magazin were cancelled in 1958 and 1959 respectively and Utopia Großband followed this year. Utopia Zukunftsroman is still hanging on for now, though the quality of the authors and stories translated has declined notably in recent years.

The reason for this is increased competition in the German science fiction market. Inspired by the success of Utopia, the "Heftroman" publisher Moewig launched its own science fiction series Terra Utopische Romane in 1957. The format was similar to Utopia Zukunftsroman, a mix of standalone science fiction novels by German authors and translations of American science fiction. However, the imitator quickly eclipsed the original, for Terra offered higher quality translations and quickly snapped up the A-list of American science fiction authors, leaving only second and third rate works for its competitor Utopia. Indeed, in some cases one novel in a series would be published under the Utopia banner, while the sequel appeared in Terra, to the frustrations of many readers. Like Utopia, Terra also spawned two spin-offs. Terra Sonderband, a thicker 96-page 'Heftroman" similar to Utopia Großband, premiered in 1958. And only last year, the reprint series Terra Extra debuted.

West German genre readers in general and science fiction readers in particular tend to be very americanophile. And so "Heftroman" publishers quickly noticed that translations of American science fiction tended to sell better than works by German authors. The fact that homegrown science fiction wasn't always up to the snuff, especially when compared to the best of American science fiction, did not help either. So magazines eventually stopped publishing original science fiction by German authors and focussed solely on translations. As a result, it became very difficult for budding German science fiction writers to persuade a publisher to take a chance on their work.

One of those budding German science fiction writers was Walter Ernsting, who first encountered science fiction while working as a translator for the allied forces after World War II and quickly fell in love with the genre. In 1955, Ernsting cofounded the Science Fiction Club Deutschland, Germany's biggest fan club. By the mid 1950s, Walter Ernsting was working as an editor and translator for the Utopia line, but was unable to get his own novels published. So the enterprising Ernsting passed off his own writing as the work of a fictional British author named Clark Dalton and promptly had it accepted. Clark Dalton's stories were well received by the readers of the various Utopia titles and so Ernsting kept on writing and publishing as Clark Dalton, even after the secret of his identity was revealed. Nor was Walter Ernsting the only German writer who circumvented publisher prejudice by writing under a British or American sounding pen name. Instead, westerns, science fiction and crime 'Heftromane" are full of German writers pretending to be Americans with varying success. 

In 1958, Ernsting left Pabel for competitor Moewig to work on the Terra line of 'Heftromane". Terra was more open to publishing German authors than Utopia and one of their stars was K.H. Scheer, a prolific young author who had gotten his start writing for the library hardcover lines of Balowa and Pfriem.

Together, Ernsting and Scheer came up with the idea to create an ongoing science fiction series focussed on the adventures of a central character. Now "Heftroman" series following the exploits of a single character are popular in the crime genre – the best know example is probably G-Man Jerry Cotton, which chronicles the adventures of a fictional FBI agent in New York City – but were largely unknown in science fiction following the demise of the rather bland Jim Parker. Nonetheless, Ernsting and Scheer persuaded Moewig to take a chance on their idea and retreated to Ernsting's home in the idyllic Bavarian village of Irschenberg to hammer out the details and come up with a rough plot outline for the first ten issues.

The result, entitled Perry Rhodan – der Erbe des Universums (Perry Rhodan – Heir to the Universe), debuted on September 8, 1961 and has quickly become a sensation in the twenty months since, turning into West Germany's most successful "Heftroman" series with a monthly print run of approximately one million. Unlike the old-fashioned and rather dull Jim Parker stories, Perry Rhodan literally starts with a bang and only keeps getting better. Initially planned to last between thirty and fifty issues, Perry Rhodan is now closing in on issue 100. If the authors manage to keep up the quality, I can see this series lasting a very long time indeed.

And that's it for today. Next time, I'll give you an overview of the Perry Rhodan series and the competitors spawned by its enormous success. I hope you have enjoyed!