Heide and the Naked Snail (Was ist das Deutsche Genie?)

Enjoying lunch with the artist Heide Hatry, I am reminded of the so-called German genius; that gewisse Etwas which makes German art, music, literature and philosophy not only so powerful and seductive, but also so queer. 

But what is the deutsche Genie?

A few years ago, the intellectual historian Peter Watson published a huge book on this topic - almost a 1000 pages in length - and yet he never quite managed to put his finger on what's so unique about the German spirit.

It seems a little silly, therefore, for me to try and say what it is in a short post like this (written in between courses and whilst Heide has gone to powder her nose). But I think the answer has something to do with the fact that the German word for slug is Nacktschnecke. 

There's a beautiful but slightly mad and misleading logic to this compound noun that seems essentially German ...

See: Peter Watson, The German Genius (Simon and Schuster, 2010).

In Defence of the Slug

I knew the slugs in the garden ate the vegetation and had a particular liking for Maria's flowers (much to her chagrin and my amusement). But until last week I didn't know they feasted also on the dead baby birds that occasionally litter the lawn after a summer downpour.

In other words, whilst I was vaguely aware these naked snails whom many gardeners delight in killing with salt and pellets played a crucial role in the ecosystem by disposing of decaying plant matter, I had no idea they were carrion feeders. Nor did I discover until very recently that some species of slug are predatory and necro-cannibalistic; devouring not only earthworms, but even their dead brethren.               

Nevertheless, I remain sympathetic towards these slimy-bodied hermaphrodites as I am to other animals deemed to be horticultural pests by human beings. Slugs, it seems to me, are more sinned against than sinning, mercilessly preyed upon as they are by a multitude of better-loved garden creatures including frogs, newts, blackbirds, and hedgehogs.      

So leave 'em alone Little Greek: we can always grow new daisies ...