Die Blechtrommel

Rating:
Summary: great for those with very strong German
Review: If you are reading this review, then you are thinking of buying a copy of a challenging, controversial, shocking, surreal, sacriligeous, disturbing and excellent novel that put Germany back on the literary map when it was published in 1958 and won its author almost instant world fame and a Nobel Prize for literature in 2000.

A warning before I go on: Grass won fame because of his complex writing style and content, which even native German speakers find challenging. Unless you have very strong German reading skills, I would recommend looking for a translation. Also, if you are easily offended, especially concerning religion (Catholicism) or sex, this book is not for you.

For those with strong German looking for a great post-WWII German literary work, this is a must-read.

Oskar Matzerath, an artist of sorts, writes his memoirs while living in an insane asylum, creating a novel that defies all labels and categories, but has been called "obscene," "burlesque," "surreal," "pornographic," and "magical realist." Through the eyes of the protagonist and his home city of Danzig, Grass lets us observe the culture and history of the "Dritte Reich." The novel is divided into three "books," which correspond to divisions of German history: pre-WWII, WWII, and post-WWII. Oskar, the observer, is a "hellhoeriger" infant whose intellectual development is complete at birth and only needs time to show. When he turns three, he recieves a tin drum, which he uses to attack, criticise, teach, and express himself. On his third birthday, he also decides to stop his physical growth, and continues to live as a paradox: to the outward world, he remains a somewhat "slow" three-year-old, but in fact he is able, from his "childish" perspective, to see through the shallow, petty lives of the adults around him.

The book is written from an intentionally amoral perspective, leaving the reader to struggle with the implications of the events portrayed in remarkable prose. Through Oskar, Grass critiques, speaks of tragedy and violence with equally brutal honesty. He lets no-one off the hook. Die Blechtrommel suggests more than shows the link between the apathy, greed, immorality, and silence of ordinary "Kleinbuerger" and the rise of Nazi Germany. Even the narrator is shown with all his moral and physical defects, which are many and large. That he fails to win our sympathy or trust is not due to the author's lack of ability; Grass alienates us from Oskar intentionally, denies us an emotional identification with his narrator, startles and provokes us, and challenges us to think more deeply and critically than mere pathos would allow.

To sum it up: if you want something that will challenge your German language skills, your assumptions about the world, and your literary perception, read this book.