‘warum / spielen heimatländer in den lüften karten?’ A Glimpse into Uljana Wolf’s Post-German Poetry

The interplay between language, identity and sense of belonging is particularly salient in the German-speaking realm, where Sprache (‘language’) is imbricated with the notion of Heimat (roughly translatable as ‘homeland’), at least since its revival at the turn of the nineteenth century. The latter is a concept that not only eludes easy definition, as evidenced by its inclusion in Barbara Cassin’s Dictionnaire des intraduisibles Full reference in Zotero Library, but also continues to spark intense controversy, not the least due to its association with the “Blood and Soil” ideology during the Third Reich Full reference in Zotero Library. Even if, originally, the renaissance of the term appeared deeply intertwined with the vision and aspiration of a homogeneous German nation-state and the establishment of a monolingual paradigm, this constellation has not remained unchanged over the course of history (Full reference in Zotero Library; Full reference in Zotero Library). This becomes particularly evident in what might be called, following Yasemin Yildiz, postmonolingual and post-German poetry. In fact, over the past three decades, books of poetry that reveal monolingualism as a fanciful construct of modernity have been finding their way increasingly into the German publishing scene. These works display a wide range of multi- and translingual writing techniques, both explicitly and implicitly. Simultaneously, they engage in a nuanced reflection and negotiation of the concept of Heimat, exploring it through diverse perspectives. In this vein, it would be beneficial to investigate how this discourse is shaped and informed by both “closed” and “open” forms of circulation. These encompass, on the one hand, the ‘secure infrastructure[s]’ and ‘clearly defined group[s]’ that facilitate the return of literature to its source ‘along controlled paths’, and, on the other hand, the dynamic movement of literature through ‘progressively structured circuits’, evolving across time and space via intricate, ‘net-like structures’ (Circulation).

In the burgeoning landscape of postmonolingual poetry in Germany, the oeuvre of Uljana Wolf stands out as a particularly illuminating example. A poet and translator, she conceives of poetic writing as an ongoing translational process, one that eschews a definite target language Full reference in Zotero Library. Thus, this approach subverts traditional, essentialist understandings of language and translation, favouring instead a translingual form of expression. In this respect, it is worth noting that her work disrupts the monolingual hegemony of the literary press precisely through the circuit of an independent publishing house such as the Berlin-based kookbooks. Perhaps even more fascinating, however, is the question of how and to what extent such translational poetic writing articulates across space and time, thereby exploring more thoroughly its trans-spatial and trans-temporal character. Her collection, programmatically titled meine schönste lengevitch Full reference in Zotero Library, seamlessly combines linguistic reflection and experimentation with an investigation around Heimat. As revealed in the notes, the title alludes to a lesser-known book of poetry, Die Schönste Lengevitch by Kurt M. Stein, published in Chicago in 1925 Full reference in Zotero Library. The hybrid neologism Lengevitch, embodying the Germanised pronunciation of the English word language, immediately signals the satirical tone of this work. Here, the German-American Creole, observes Wolf, serves the purpose of ‘poking fun at the mother language loss among German immigrants who nevertheless think they can still master their Vaterdeutsch correctly’ Full reference in Zotero Library. Wolf takes up this humorous yet stigmatising concept and transposes it onto a vastly different aesthetic realm. The title undergoes a subtle yet profound transformation, from ‘[d]as’ (‘the’) to ‘meine’ (‘my’) ‘lengevitch’, signalling a shift towards a more personal, even intimate language. Hence, Stein’s kitschy “Germerican” metamorphoses into a poetic hybrid language that pays homage to Édouard Glissant’s epigraph, translated into German at the beginning of the book: ‘Eine Spur in die Sprachen legen heißt, eine Spur ins Unvorhersehbare unserer nun gemeinsamen Lebensbedingungen zu legen’¹‘To leave traces in language means to lay a trail into the unpredictable within the shared conditions of our lives’.Full reference in Zotero LibraryFull reference in Zotero Library.

The prose poem ‘doppelgeherrede’, also strategically placed on the book cover, provides valuable insight into the essence of lengevitch within Wolf’s writing. Through its title, the prose poem emphasises the linguistically self-reflexive and experimental nature of the text. The inclusion of the primary word -rede (‘speech’) signifies its connection to the semantic realm of language, while the pairing with the determiner doppelgeher-, a variation on the more common Doppelgänger, captures and exposes the inventive use of language. The first-person voice describes surreal, dream-like events in the past tense. The ‘I’ goes in search of the ‘lengevitch’ in a cheap variety theatre. After retrieving their double from the cloakroom, they step into a lively dance hall to socialise and proceed to the bar for coffee with ‘mrs. [Gertrude] stein’, a plan jeopardised by ‘mr. veilmaker’:

[…] dass ich gespenster seh!, rief plötzlich aus der nische, wo das denken dunkeldeutsch blieb, mr. veilmaker im Schlafanzug der philosophen. ein kressekästchen vor der brust, verblüfft: wächst auf einem weißen blatte! ohne alle erde! wurzellos! Full reference in Zotero Library

[…] me, seeing ghosts!? a voice gasped from the niches where thinking remained a bit dunkeldeutsch: mr schleiermacher in his philosopher pajamas. a little box of watercress in front of his chest, nonplussed: sprouts on a white cloth! without soil! without roots!” Full reference in Zotero Library

Behind the enigmatic literal translation ‘mr. veilmaker’ lurks none other than Friedrich Schleiermacher. In fact, the entire prose poem can be seen as a counterpoint to his seminal treatise ‘Über die verschiedenen Methoden des Übersetzens’ Full reference in Zotero Library. According to the German philosopher, conversations in courtly and cosmopolitan circles that privilege languages other than one’s mother tongue lack depth and authors who write literature in a non-native language can be compared to ghosts—much like someone attempting to grow watercress on a white cloth without soil Full reference in Zotero Library. This rests on the assumption that thought and expression are intricately connected, shaped by a cultural identity best articulated within the context of an as-yet-unformed nation-state. Essentially, it proposes allegiance to a single homeland and mother tongue, echoing the belief that one must be faithful to a language, akin to a nation, or risk drifting aimlessly in an unsightly, in-between realm Full reference in Zotero Library. Contrastingly, Wolf actively confronts this idea, which she describes in the poem as ‘dunkeldeutsch’ (‘dark German’)—a historically loaded term with pejorative connotations used to describe Eastern Germany since the 1990s—and intentionally seeks the intersection between the German and English languages. She mockingly appropriates Schleiermacher’s terminology and claims the right to a ‘doppelgeherrede’ (‘double going speech’) in a gesture of justification for her translingual poetry.

The apologetic exploration of in-betweenness and the inherent critique of nationalist rootedness permeate the entire book but are notably pronounced in the section appropriately named ‘mittens’. This title is a deliberate linguistic play on the phenomenon of false friends—a phenomenon integral to Uljana Wolf’s poetics, as exemplified by the title of her second poetry collection, falsche freunde (2009). False friends are words or expressions that, while sharing similarities or identical forms across languages, diverge in meaning and sometimes spelling, particularly between German and English. In this instance, mittens echoes the German adverb mitten (‘in the middle’), yet the addition of ‘s’ imparts a distinctly English quality, simultaneously evoking the plural form of the homonymous word for ‘glove.’

This section opens with an aphorism from Nelly Sachs’s renowned poem ‘In der Flucht’ from Flucht und Verwandlung Full reference in Zotero Library: ‘Anstelle von Heimat / halte ich die Verwandlungen der Welt –’²‘Against the place of home / I hold the transformations of the world–’ Full reference in Zotero LibraryFull reference in Zotero Library. The emphasis transitions from the static idea of homeland to the dynamic, ever-changing nature of the world. Beyond establishing the thematic framework, this quotation initiates an ongoing dialogue with the German-Jewish author, whose exile to Sweden during and after World War II significantly influenced her literary exploration of Heimat. In fact, the poem ‘mappa’ unmistakably pays homage to her, as underscored by the closing credit ‘mit Nelly Sachs’ (‘with Nelly Sachs’) Full reference in Zotero Library. It specifically alludes to the three-part late poem ‘Suche nach Lebenden’ from Teile dich Nacht Full reference in Zotero Library, in whose opening scene the ‘I’ and the ‘you’ perceive the same landscape differently—the one sees a tree, the other an x Full reference in Zotero Library. Wolf weaves this juxtaposition into a central motif of her poem, transcending the specific contrast between the two interlocutors to explore the myriad (free) inter- and intralingual associations evoked by words. The poem delves into the concept of the place of residence, navigating the semantic landscape of the Latin loanword Mappa. It traverses the realms of the German nouns for ‘playing cards’ (Spielkarte) and ‘maps’ (Landkarte), unfolding a journey that culminates at the dwelling place of stationery—the pencil case (Mäppchen).

Mappa, now archaic in German and replaced by Landkarte, denotes a map—a symbolic representation outlining the physical and political attributes of a territory. However, as elucidated in the short essay ‘In die Karten geschaut’ Full reference in Zotero Library, maps in Wolf’s poetics primarily serve the purpose of illustrating how the poet, identifying rather as a citizen of language than of a state, defines herself through her connection with language Full reference in Zotero Library. This intricate relationship is intimately bound to the body, which, whether physically or metaphorically, traverses and infiltrates state borders as it articulates thoughts—both on a global and local scale Full reference in Zotero Library. In this vein, the central lines of ‘mappa’ inquire: ‘warum / spielen heimatländer in den lüften karten? / niemand hat die länder je nach hause gehn / sehn’³‘and why / do homelands play cards in the air? no one / ever saw the homelands go home’ Full reference in Zotero LibraryFull reference in Zotero Library. An allusion to yet another poem by Sachs from her 1959 collection, ‘Wie viele Heimatländer’ Full reference in Zotero Library, these verses invite contemplation, encouraging reflection upon the ethereal essence of national identity and the uncharted territories of belonging.

The political engagement of Wolf’s poetry also extends to an acute exploration of asylum politics, as exemplified in the triptych ‘drei bögen: böbrach’. Böbrach, a refugee centre in the Bavarian Forest that gained significant media attention in the last decade, serves both as a focal point and a universal symbol for xenophobia and exclusionary immigration politics. Gone are the traces of the once idyllic setting of the former guesthouse, now converted into an accommodation centre for asylum seekers. Here, the profound remoteness and isolation drive the refugees to the brink of madness, to wandsinn—a clever play on the German words for ‘madness’ (Wahnsinn) and ‘wall’ (Wand), as they have nothing left to do but stare at the wall Full reference in Zotero Library. As in ‘mappa’, Wolf interweaves linguistic and topographical threads in her exploration. She deliberately chooses a natural landscape, the forest, which is rich in tradition: conventionally used as a metaphor for the alien, the foreign and the uncivilised, the forest here plays a crucial role in exposing the false perception of refugees and their language as inherently other: ‘die worte dazu sind weiß oder weg wie der letzte bus aus dem dorf. nachts rumpelt die stille im frost: der wald sei dem fremden’⁴‘the words for this are white or gone like the last bus from the village. at night stillness lumbers in chills: the forest for the foreign’ Full reference in Zotero LibraryFull reference in Zotero Library. These lines masterfully convey the austerity of the situation, where words either fade or remain unspoken, mirroring the departure of the last bus from the village. The stillness of the cold night has an eerie quality, making it unfamiliar to strangers too.

The initial encounter with alterity in language transcends the superficial distinctions observed between speakers of a foreign language and instead delves into the internal alterity within each linguistic entity. Wolf’s exploration of this intrinsic linguistic alterity goes beyond a mere superficial investigation; it transforms into a compelling critique of a system that not only marginalises refugees, but also subjects them to abuse, relegating them to the status of mere outsiders. In the line ‘nur der wald treibt sein stöberndes amt, er nimmt dich in weiße abführungszeichen’⁵‘only the forest bureau forages duties is up to no good, he takes you in white quoted frogmarch’ Full reference in Zotero LibraryFull reference in Zotero Library, Wolf strategically uses the term abführungszeichen, which signifies the closing quotation marks in German typography, but also evokes the semantics of evacuation and abduction. Such nuanced terminology serves as a poignant example of how language, particularly within bureaucratic contexts, has the dual capacity to both obscure and perpetuate the marginalisation of immigrants. Through vivid and thought-provoking imagery, the author highlights the crucial role of language in constructing and perpetuating power dynamics, and how seemingly innocuous linguistic forms can actively contribute to systems of exclusion and criminalisation.

Even in this brief overview of Uljana Wolf’s poetic writing, it is apparent that post-German poetry offers a fertile ground for the exploration of the dynamics of circulation, encompassing both “open” and “closed” forms. In this regard, further research could fruitfully consider how the publication of postmonolingual poetry challenges the landscape of literary languages within German-based publishing houses, thus disrupting cultural and linguistic identity politics. Furthermore, it could also shed light on how the critique of the monolingual paradigm in works such as Wolf’s unfolds across time and space through a translational poetics characterised by re-appropriation and citation.