The Erich Kastner School and Emil and the Detectives
The Erich Kastner School In Bochum, Germany
During my stay in Bochum, I used to walk the couple of
kilometres from my apartment at the House of Nations near the Ruhr University.
This walk was pleasant, it took me through a small wood and then under a
railway culvert and past a school and finally to the Tower where the Department
to which I was assigned was housed. I
noticed that the school was named after Erich Kastner. I was wondering why the
name sounded slightly familiar. About a week later I realized: Erich Kastner
was none other than the author who wrote Emil and the Detectives.
For most of us English speaking types (anti-national Pakis
every one of us, I am now told), Enid Blyton was the prototype of the childhood
detective story. Whatever else we read, it was of British origin. We who spoke
Bengali had, of course, our vast literature of children’s’ literature at our
disposal. I am sure our Hindi and Tamil speaking friends also read some children’s’
books in their language. It is unfortunate that I did not then and I am sure
none of our children and grandchildren even now get to read many books written
in an Indian language other than their own. Anyway, that is not the story, What I
want to emphasize is that even the European books that we read were almost
exclusively British. Of course, there was the Swiss Family Robinson, Victor
Hugo’s novels, ( much later), and some more, but all our reading was from
British and the occasional American writer.
The Tower, a heritage building which housed the Department of Ethics.
Fortunately for me, I had an uncle (my Bedouinmama) who was
an intellectual in the best sense of the term. He was a lifelong communist, a
thinker and one of those polymaths who could read and write equally well in Bengali
and English. His smallish apartment In North Calcutta was full of books, in all
shapes, sizes, languages and genres. Incidentally, he was called Bedouin after the
Arab nomads and it was no wonder that he named his twin daughters Arbi( from
the Arab land) and Farsi ( from Iran). Be that as it may, the point is that he
introduced me to many authors who I would never have met in the normal course
of reading. And one of the books that he presented to me was Emil and the
Detectives.
This was a simple story of Emil, a country boy from a small
village where he is bought up by a single mother. Emil is making his first
journey alone to Berlin where his grandmother lives. He is carrying a (for him)
substantial amount of money and when he falls asleep on the train, the money is
stolen by a co-passenger. Emil realizes who the culprit is and leaves the train
before his stop to follow the culprit. In Berlin, he falls in with a group of
young lads who join him in his quest to unmask the thief and the story shows
how they manage to do so.
The story is thrilling, of course, but what is even more
important is that the story is a moving lesson of hope, about how there are
always people who help you, and how, in a group, you can achieve the impossible.
It is a very popular book for children in Germany and when I mentioned it to my
friends here they were all unanimous that Emil had been part of their childhood
too and it still ranks as one of the favourites among children even in these
days.
Erich Kastner was born in Dresden in 1899 and initially trained
to be a teacher. He dropped out and was drafted into the German Army in the First
World War. His experience left him a strong antimilitarist and this was
reflected in all his writings. After the War he lived for a period in Leipzig
where he obtained a doctorate and became a journalist and a critic. He later
moved to Berlin during the Weimer republic years and it was at this time that a
stream of poems, plays, novels and newspaper articles poured from his pen. He wrote
Emil and the Detectives in 1928 and this book sold over a million copies and
Wikipedia informs me that it has been translated into 59 languages ( why is Bengali not one of them,
or is it?). There was also a sequel, Emil and the Three Twins, which alas I never
read.
He was in the bad books of the Nazis and his books were
burnt during the Third Reich. However, he survived the war and lived to see the
destruction of his beloved Dresden. After the War, he lived in Munich but over the
years, disillusioned by Germany’s decision to join the NATO he wrote less and less
and suffered an alcohol problem in his later years. He died in Munich in 1974.
If you have not read the book, please do, I reread it with
much pleasure last month. At least buy a copy to give to some youngster who
will bless you 50 years later as I remember with gratitude my BedouinMama, for
this and so many other things.
As for the Erich Kastner Scule in Bochum, my very best
wishes!
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