"Der widerwärtigste Beruf": Literature and Autobiography in Irmgard Keun's Ferdinand, der Mann mit dem freundlichen Herzen

Ferdinand Timpe, the narrator of Ferdinand, der Mann mit dem freundlichen Herzen (1950), recounts his various experiences shortly after the Second World War, the diverse phases of his life during and before the war, and numerous stories about his friends and family. Ferdinand's meandering stream of descriptions and reminiscences has no obvious sustaining theme or coordinated argument, and scholars have tended to concentrate on limited portions of his narrative. Thus one approach has been to highlight Ferdinand's portrayals of female characters, assimilating them to the explorations of women's gender roles in Irmgard Keun's earlier works, while another approach has been to emphasize Ferdinand's references to literature and politics, maintaining that they express profound doubts about Keun's own capacity as an author, misgivings prompted by her deep distaste for post-Nazi society in western Germany. This article aims not to provide an exhaustive interpretation of Ferdinand, whether by reconciling the existing analyses or by identifying a new and comprehensive viewpoint, but to demonstrate that the novel's account of Keun's professional and political disillusionments after 1945 is considerably more nuanced than scholars have realized, because it attributes those disillusionments as much to Keun's experiences during the Nazi era as to her experiences thereafter. This article will also suggest that in reviewing the several phases of Keun's career since 1933, Ferdinand also offers her perspective on the public polemics about "innere und äußere Emigration," which began in 1945.

The titular figure gives the first chapter of his narrative the title "Ich schreibe eine Geschichte" (Keun, Ferdinand 5) and starts by explaining that although he has never written anything before, he has been asked to contribute a story to a new weekly magazine edited by an acquaintance called Heinrich. Ferdinand then records how he embarked on his literary career, and how he immediately encountered difficulties:

Ich habe mir eine Flasche Mosel gekauft und eine Packung belgische Zigaretten und mich in mein Zimmer bei der Witwe Stabhorn gesetzt, um zu dichten. Frau Stabhorn hat mich mit einem Stück Kopierstift und dem zerknautschten Schulheft eines ihrer Enkel unterstützt. Das Papier ist willig, aber mein Geist ist schwach. Was soll ich schreiben?

(5)

In the remainder of the chapter, Ferdinand considers and discards such unpromising topics for his story as "mein Bett" (11), "Tiergeschichten" (25), and "die Geschichte meines Wämschens" (29), frequently digressing by rapid associations of ideas to reflect on nonliterary matters like the "Buß- und Bettag" (12), the character of his cousin Johanna (21), and people's differing reactions to the battle damage in their cities (32–33). The chapter ends when, after strenuous efforts that yield only "vierzehn Geschichten, von denen keine über die ersten drei Sätze hinaus gediehen ist" (42), Ferdinand goes to see Heinrich, whereupon it turns out that the editor has mistaken him for an author named Ferdinand Großengrau:

Ferdinand Großengrau ist ein Freund von mir. Während des Krieges waren wir ein paarmal zusammen in Berlin. Er ist ein emsiger Dichter, ein braver Handwerker des Wortes, versoffen wie ein alter Benzinkanister. In einer Berliner Künstlerkneipe hatte Heinrich uns zwei Ferdinands mal getroffen, zwischen einigen Bombenangriffen.

(43)

By this point, Ferdinand has also divulged some significant private information and personal opinions, including the fact that he was a prisoner of war (16), that he is now living in Cologne (30), and that he has little faith in the postwar political system: "Die ehemalige deutsche Diktatur hat sich, nach Art niederer Lebewesen, durch Spaltung fortgepflanzt und heißt jetzt Demokratie" (15).

The opening of the novel thus refers repeatedly to writing, and specifically to difficulties with writing experienced by someone who has returned to – and identified a continuing Nazi influence in – western Germany after 1945. Although Ferdinand's narrative in the ensuing chapters ranges widely – and sometimes inconsequentially – over many other topics, it continues periodically to express disapproval of contemporary literature and politics. Current taste in reading is characterized as debased – for example, when Heinrich explains that his magazine caters...