Historical source material – implications of limitations and multiplicity

As well as referring to these more general points of historiographical criticism,

Unscharfe Bilder also refers specifically to contemporary debates about the

representation, both in history and in fiction, of Third Reich Germans as either victims or perpetrators. The controversies surrounding Grass’ novella Im

Krebsgang (UB 27)248 _{and Walser’s Ein springender Brunnen (UB 100)}249 _are

referred to in passing, and in both cases the reference not only underscores the theme of the representation of the past, but also points in a metafictional way to the blurring of the line between fact and fiction. However, the main intertextual reference to contemporary controversies about the representation of the role of ordinary Germans in the events of the Nazi period is to the

Wehrmachtsausstellung250. A significant aspect of the discussion of the exhibition in the novel is the critique of the accuracy of photography as a source of information about the past. This critique reflects a central element

248 _{Grass, Günter op cit.}

249 _{Walser, Martin op cit. The controversy in this case is referred to indirectly}

when Musbach asks Walser’s question as to whether it was possible for a German of his generation to tell his own personal story without having to discuss the Holocaust.

250 _{Hahn specifically refers to her use of the exhibition catalogue as a}

of the controversy about the representation of Wehrmacht soldiers in the exhibition, as well as making more general points about the fragmentary nature of historical source material and the openness of such material to misinterpretation.

In its original form, as displayed from 1995 - 1999, the Wehrmachts-

ausstellung consisted largely of photographic material alleged to depict

Wehrmacht soldiers committing atrocities against civilians. Following a closer

inspection by historians, it was discovered that a number of the photographs in fact depicted crimes of the Soviet secret service (NKWD), rather than the

Wehrmacht. This led to a loss of confidence in the veracity of the images

presented and the withdrawal of the exhibition in its original form251_{. These}

events raised directly the question of the reliability of photographic evidence in relation to providing an accurate depiction of the past, and this issue is

thematised throughout Unscharfe Bilder, beginning with the Ludwig

Wittgenstein quote in the epigraph, “Ist eine unscharfe Fotografie überhaupt

ein Bild eines Menschen?” (UB 7). The plot of the novel opens with Katja

pushing the exhibition catalogue towards Musbach, stating cryptically, “Dein

Bild wirst du da ja nicht drin finden” (UB 19), and from this moment onwards,

the novel is concerned with the reliability of and battle for primacy between various sources, particularly the battle between the photographic evidence in the catalogue and Musbach's eyewitness account252_{. Katja initially has a}

251 _{Fischer, Torben and Lorenz, Matthias N op cit at 288-290; Hamburger}

Institut für Sozialforschung Verbrechen der Wehrmacht website, op cit; Hamburger Institut für Sozialforschung Verbrechen der Wehrmacht

Begleitbroschüre, op cit.

252 _{Geier also describes the novel as being concerned with the media contest}

strong belief in the reliability of photographic evidence and thinks that the static nature of photography makes it preferable to more changeable sources:

“Diese Fotos im Katalog sind aber nicht in irgendeinem Kopf, in deinem oder einem anderen, und sie können sich auch im Lauf der Zeit nicht verändern. Niemand kann ihre Ränder in der Erinnerung golden einrahmen. Und sie sind auch keine Kunst, keine wortgewaltige

Ästhetisierung des Entsetzens. Sie sind historische Wahrheit.” (UB 73)

Musbach critiques this view in terms that will be familiar to anyone with a passing interest in photographic theory253 by pointing out that a photograph captures only a single, decontextualised moment. When considering Katja's question as to whether photographic images are always true, he replies: “Ja,

sicher . . . jedenfalls für den Augenblick, den sie festhalten - und für das, was sie einrahmen als Augenblick. Aber für jedes Bild gibt es ein Bild dahinter, für jeden Augenblick eine Geschichte, davor und danach” (UB 63; see also

similar reflections at UB 70, and the references to photographs excluding uncomfortable truths at UB 132). The attitudes displayed by both Katja and Musbach in these discussions about photographs as a historical source underscore the way in which Katja and Musbach both use historical sources as weapons in their intergenerational power struggle, highlighting both the continuation of the instrumentalisation of the past typical of Väterliteratur and

253 _{Fischer-Kania has considered the theme of photography in the novel in the}

context of photographic theory, noting the metaphotographic comments contained in the dialogue between Katja and Musbach and the contest between various forms of representation (photographic, artistic, eyewitness, etc) as it relates to memory: Fischer-Kania, Sabine “Medium” op cit 149.

the questioning of the biases inherent in the use and interpretation of historical sources often thematised in historiographic metafiction254.

The faith that Katja expresses in the veracity of photography at the beginning of the novel is steadily broken down by these sorts of reflections, and

particularly by her realisation of her misinterpretation of the photograph in the

Wehrmachtsausstellung in which she believed she recognised Musbach

taking part in a crime. After being challenged by the different images

presented by Musbach's testimony and by his comments on the limitations of the photographic medium, Katja revisits the photograph in the exhibition which prompted her dialogue with her father. On this further viewing, it becomes apparent that the photograph may not show what Katja thought it did. The face of the man in the photograph is in shadowy half-profile, making

identification a matter of conjecture, and it is impossible to tell from the captured moment whether he had fired his weapon, or whether the killings depicted had been carried out by others (UB 274). Moreover, the date of the photograph definitively excludes the possibility that the man depicted is Musbach (UB 275). Katja’s initial conviction that photographs represent an unchangeable historical truth is broken down by the implication arising from her own error, namely that no matter how static the photographic image may be, the eye of the beholder may significantly change its interpretation.

254 _{This sort of reflection on the role of generational bias in the interpretation}

of historical sources also arises in Spiel der Zeit, when the character of Katja relates how, in the absence of her father’s willingness to speak about the subject, she started obsessively researching the Third Reich, scouring the books for her father’s picture, and stopped when she started seeing her father’s face in every photograph (Hahn, Ulla Spiel der Zeit op cit at 344 – 346).

In addition to highlighting the problems associated with using photography as a historical source, the novel also thematises the problems inherent in using memory as a guide to the past. This is particularly significant in view of Musbach’s insistence on the primacy and authenticity of his eyewitness testimony. Musbach is keen to attach the label of authenticity to his

eyewitness account in order to stake a claim for the primacy of his version of events over the other versions promoted by Katja and thereby shut down her line of questioning. He promotes the idea that the photographs in the

exhibition and other sources of information about the past are “unvollständig

ohne meine Bilder” (UB 73) and that the images of the past presented in the

exhibition are not representative of the past as he lived it: “Siehst du! Von

solchen Bildern, von meinen Toten, von meinen Freunden und Kameraden habe ich in deinem Buch kein Bild gesehen. Du hast schon recht, mein Bild, meine Erinnerung kann ich da nicht finden” (UB 40; see also 31; 39; 49; 109;

120; 135). On a number of occasions, he asserts that only those who experienced the Nazi period and the war can truly know what it was like, implying that the first generation are the only ones who can know the truth about this past (“nur wer das einmal erlebt hat, weiß überhaupt” (UB 52);

“Das alles ist wahr und geschehen, und doch verstehst du nichts; kannst du nichts verstehen, wie es uns damals ging” (UB 105); this is also a key point in

Musbach's anecdote about the Medusa (UB 257 - 259)). Musbach's

emphasis on the authenticity of his own memories is partly a ploy to gain the ascendancy in his generational power play with Katja, in that it devalues her opinions and removes her ability to judge his actions. Katja recognises her father's strategy, and is concerned that her own view of Germans as

perpetrators will be overwhelmed by his images of Germans as victims (UB 43). Yet, although she repeatedly resists his self-depiction by reminding him of his own culpability, to a certain extent she is also forced to agree that Musbach does have an advantage when it comes to commenting on past events, acknowledging the weaknesses of her second generation position:

“Konnte jemand, der nicht dabeigewesen war, jemals den Vater verstehen? Begreifen? Blieb ihr nicht alles, was der Vater erzählte, nur Wissen, nur der Versuch einer Vorstellung?” (UB 174). She is aware that her lack of first-hand

experience of the relevant events inhibits her ability to “feel” what the past was like, and that she is entirely reliant on secondary sources for her

knowledge of the period (UB 176). No matter how hard she tries to “imagine” the past, the fact that all of her accounts of the past are mediated means that she is destined to failure (UB 175; 243). Musbach’s emphasis on the primacy of his eyewitness testimony based on its authenticity and reliability is also reflected in certain elements of the text. Although the story is told from the perspective of an omniscient narrator, the commentary provided by the narrator is limited, with most of the novel being given over to direct quotation dialogue, chiefly between Musbach and Katja. The rendering of Musbach’s narrative primarily in direct quotation dialogue lends it an air of immediacy and authenticity, and mirrors the oral nature typical of eyewitness testimony. Hahn’s indication at the end of the text that she used historical source materials such as collections of letters from the Front and interviews with eyewitnesses as the basis for Musbach’s account (UB 281)255 _{also appears to}

suggest authenticity.

The idea that eyewitness accounts are more “authentic” than other sources of evidence can only be supported if the memories relayed in those accounts can be said to be reliable, yet the novel repeatedly points to the unreliability of memory generally and of Musbach's memories in particular. Musbach may be envied by his neighbours and colleagues for his “hervorragendes

Gedächtnis” and “Registrierkassengedächtnis” (UB 24), but in his retirement

home lecture on the art of memory, he reminds them that forgetting is part of human nature and notes that forgetting can be advantageous (UB 25). Whether an event is remembered or forgotten can depend on a person's interest in remembering or forgetting a particular event, as can be seen when Katja clearly remembers a family outing during her childhood that Musbach has largely forgotten (UB 84 - 85), and forgetting can also occur

subconsciously (“was unser PC da oben scheinbar ohne Mausklick alles

löscht” (UB 133)). Further, the unreliability of memory is reflected in

Musbach's realisation that there are many memories about the past that he has suppressed so successfully that he has made it as though they never happened (UB 40; 95), including the memory of his part in the execution of Russian partisans, which his guilt causes him to retouch so as to obscure his freedom of choice. Musbach may have an excellent memory, but he also realises that, even for an eyewitness, the precise details and emotional impressions of a particular event may not be able to be retrieved (UB 52). Katja also acknowledges the selective nature of memory when she accuses

claims that she uses these sources selectively to suit her own agenda: Schmitz, Helmut “Representations of the Nazi past II” op cit at 152 - 153; Schmitz, Helmut “Reconciliation” op cit at 157 - 158. This in fact reflects the selectivity of the use of source material by historians, highlighting the some of the similarities between historiography and fiction put forward by White.

Musbach of seeking some memories in order to avoid others (UB 61).

Furthermore, as well as pointing to the ability of memory to be shaped by the interests of the individual, the novel also puts forward the idea that what is remembered is in part formed and selected by social and political forces256. In a passage reminiscent of Walser's arguments against the idea that

eyewitnesses are obliged to present their memories of the Nazi period with reference to Auschwitz257, Musbach points to the influence of public memory dictates on the content of private recollections: “Konnte denn kein Deutscher

seiner Generation seine ganz private Geschichte erzählen, ohne daß irgendwann die Frage auftauchte: Und die Juden? Was hast du gewußt? Verblaßte denn alles vor dieser Frage?” (UB 100; see also UB 58). By

exposing eyewitness memory as being as partial, inconsistent and contingent as other historical sources, the novel undermines Musbach’s insistence on the primacy and reliability of his own testimony and attempts to head off any tendency in the reader to accept Musbach’s victimhood narrative as the “authoritative” statement about his Nazi past.

In addition, as well as pointing to the unreliability of memory as a historical source, the novel reflects in its own structure the way in which the very process of turning memories into a narrative of historical events necessarily

256 _{Fischer-Kania has also discussed the idea of the creation of memory in the}

novel agains the background of various memory theories: Fischer-Kania, Sabine “Reden” op cit at 77 - 78; 88 - 90; 94.

257 _{Walser's novel Ein springender Brunnen expresses the idea that it ought to}

be possible to relate a subjective memory of the Nazi period without reference to the Holocaust. For a short summary of Walser's attack on “political

correctness”, see Taberner, Stuart “Representations of German Wartime Suffering in Recent Fiction” in Niven, Bill Germans as Victims Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006: 164 - 180 at 167 - 168, and for a longer discussion of Walser's novel, see Taberner, Stuart German Literature of the 1990s op cit at 119 - 126.

involves selection and distortion. This can be seen in the constructed nature of Musbach’s eyewitness testimony, which is apparent from the strict

chronological order maintained in his narrative about the past (with the exception of his description of his involvement in a “war crime”, which occurs out of order at the end of the novel), as well as his use of the imperfect tense and well-constructed sentences. These are features of narrative history which do not reflect real speech and memory patterns258, but instead point to the nature of Musbach’s testimony as a composition. The orderly structure of Musbach’s account points self-reflexively to its own nature as a constructed product, and the difference between his narrativised, aestheticised version of events and the more chaotic nature of “real life” memory both draws attention to the distorting effects of narrativisation on the representation of historical events and raises questions about the reasons behind Musbach’s chosen order and his choice of historical events.

The novel’s critique of the limitations of both the photographic medium and eyewitness memory in providing an accurate image of the past can be applied to the many other sources of information about the Nazi period present in the novel. The novel refers to a wide variety of sources of information about the past, both public and private, including oral testimony by eyewitnesses, mental images, family discussions (UB 24; 64 – 66; 125 - 126), school teaching (UB 18; 24), television documentaries (UB 23), photographs, art

258 _{Herrmann, Meike Vergangenwart op cit at 216. At 221, Herrmann}

compares Hahn's construction of Musbach's narrative as clear and detailed with the more realistic approach taken in their non-fiction family memoirs by Uwe Timm in Am Beispiel meines Bruders and Dagmar Leupold in Nach den

Kriegen, in which information about the past is presented in an ambivalent,

fragmentary, and often opaque way. Hummel makes a similar point about the artificiality of the ordered chronology and seamlessness of Musbach's

works (UB 72; 159 - 160), non-fiction texts (UB 128; 158), literature (UB 27; 71; 195), historical documents and memorial objects (UB 144; 164; 189). The multiplicity of sources and their mutual incompleteness and inconsistencies reflect the postmemorial situation described by Hirsch259. Indeed, as Katja points out, the availability of a variety of historical sources may make the past less clear, rather than more so:

“Klärte das, was der Vater hier aus immer tieferen Schichten heraufholte, den Blick auf die Fotos der Ausstellung oder nicht?

Machte es die Dinge klarer oder verworrener? Die Bilder schärfer oder unschärfer? Das Begreifen leichter oder schwerer? Noch wußte sie keine Antwort.” (UB 105)

The multiplicity of sources also emphasises the idea that, in order to form a narrative out of such a group of fragments, the historian must be selective. Musbach points to this selectivity when he asks: “Mußte man aus dem Mosaik

immer nur die Steine einer Farbe auswählen?” (UB 27). Although Musbach’s

question represents an attempt to deflect Katja’s insistence on individual German culpability as the dominant narrative about the past, it also exposes the selectivity involved in representations of the past generally. The overall impression created by the novel’s critique of historical representation is that historical sources are incomplete and unreliable, and that any attempt to

provide a narrative of the past involves bias, selectivity, and some imagination. Under these circumstances, the prospect of establishing the “truth” about the

259 _{For a discussion of Hirsch’s concept of postmemory, see the Introduction}

past fades away, as Musbach suggests when he says: “Wie viele Seiten hat

die Wahrheit? So viele, wie wir Bilder für sie haben. Oder Worte” (UB 63).