Irmgard Keun (1905-1982)
Photo: Ullstein Bild / Getty Images
Photo: Ullstein Bild / Getty Images
They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but there doesn't seem to be any similar kind of objection to judging a work by its title and Irmgard Keun's 1932 novel has such an absolutely fabulous title - Das Kunstseidene Mädchen - that I immediately ordered a copy on Amazon.
In part, The Artificial Silk Girl was inspired by Alfred Döblin's Berlin Alexanderplatz (1929) - a work that created a literary sensation at the time and which is still regarded today as one of the most important works of German modernism. Keun had met Döblin at a literary event in Cologne and he encouraged her to write, rightly recognising that her narrative skills and extraordinary powers of observation would bring her success as an author.
However, it's important to also acknowledge the influence of Anita Loos's Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1925). Keun was determined to write the German equivalent to this bestselling American novel and to create a strong female character to rival the young flapper Lorelei. In Doris, who heads to the Big City wearing a stolen fur coat and a pair of knickers held together with seven rusty safety pins in order to become a movie star, I believe she did so. The book was an instant smash.
Unfortunately, the Nazis were not impressed and not amused by The Artificial Silk Girl. Not only did they ban its sale, but they destroyed every copy they could lay their paws on. Joseph Goebbels and friends at the Reich Chamber of Culture thought the work degenerate and un-German; a prime example of what they termed asphalt literature filled with low-life characters who deserved to be placed in concentration camps rather than made sympathetic.
Amusingly - and to her immense credit - Keun didn't take this lying down; she attempted to sue the Nazi regime for loss of income. Sadly, she was unsuccessful in this and, in effect, the Nazis had terminated her career as a writer. She left Germany - and her Hitler supporting husband - in 1936, and spent the following years drifting around Europe in search of a new start. Alas, despite having many famous friends and lovers in the literary world, a life of anonymity, alcoholism, and homelessness followed.
In 1966, Keun was committed to the psychiatric ward of Bonn State Hospital, remaining there until 1972. It was only after an article appeared in Stern magazine in 1977, that the public rediscovered her and new editions of her books were published. By this time, however, she was too old and too ill to really care.
Keun died of lung cancer in 1982.
Note: a sister post, in which I review the novel in more detail, can be read by clicking here.
