Forgiving the Jews for Auschwitz? Guilt and Gender in Bernhard Schlink'sLiebesfluchten1

Abstract

Bernhard Schlink's international bestseller Der Vorleser (1995) sparked an important scholarly discussion on guilt, shame, and so-called Vergangenheitsbewaltigung. In this debate, text received praise for candidly taking on subject of post-WWII German guilt and shame (Bartov, Niven, and Schmitz), yet was criticized for reintroducing familiar or tainted cliches and for affording Germans an easy way out of their feelings of guilt by turning them into of Nazi regime (Schlant, Arnds, Donahue, Metz). These debates have not reached any definite conclusions for two reasons. First, they are intrinsically connected to how we read and how we identify with literary texts, urgent questions when it comes to literature dealing with Holocaust, as Dominick LaCapra's work on writing trauma reveals convincingly.2 secondly, and perhaps more importantly, if we understand literature to be turf on which important matters of memory and identity are teased out and negotiated, and interpretation of literature (by scholars and critics) as field where this negotiation is further reflected upon, then continued debate on guilt and shame in Der Vorleser points to fact that difficulties Germans have with their history, memory, and identity are both ongoing and in need of further exploration. This is supported by findings of Berlin Zentrum fur Antisemitismusforschung, namely that antisemitism3 seen in Germany as of a few years ago may be rooted in a antisemitism that is in part caused by those very issues of guilt and shame. These issues are prevalent both in Schlink's text and literature engaging with it. secondary antisemitism can be defined as a hostility against Jews that grows from fact that Holocaust reminds Germans of their guilt and thus precludes a positive identification with their German identity (Gessler, 12) .4 Can Germans, therefore, never forgive Jews for Auschwitz?5 Instead of reiterating debate on Der Vorleser, this essay will consider two additional texts by Schlink, and move focus to an investigation of this notion of secondary antisemitism and how it relates to current perceptions of Jews, German identity, and gender. Both short stories, Das Madchen mit der Eidechse and Die Beschneidung from Schlink's collection Liebesfluchten (2000), deal with German past, and are characterized by textual polyvalence and indeterminacy regarding location of Jews and gender. Thus, a close reading of short stories sheds new light on how today's memories of German past and Shoah are intertwined with subliminal notions of gender and antisemitism. My discussion places special emphasis on dimension of gender, a category so far insufficiently invoked in many deliberations of German memory and identity,6 since short stories situate Jews and Germans within a grid of gendered identities. More specifically, there seems to be a curious link between guilt and gender identity in both texts that requires analysis. As Ernestine Schlant has observed succinctly, in all texts dealing with Shoah, identity matters: distinctions between Jewish and non-Jewish writers are essential, since the eliminations of crucial distinction between victims and perpetrators can itself be viewed as an attempt to level and equalize their separate histories (6). This is not to say, as some German scholars seem to feel, that non-Jewish writers and critics have less of a right to speak and be heard-quite opposite. But it is important to note that Schlink's position is that of a non-Jewish West-German male, and that his protagonists, who are non-Jewish West-German males, offer that particular perspective, while at same time vigorously invoking gender binaries as well as binaries of Jewish vs. non-Jewish identities. A number of publications point to fact that Der Vorleser is concerned mostly with second generation's feelings of guilt and/or shame towards Holocaust, i. …