Practical Modelling of Literature in a Literature Archive

Reading Anita Traninger’s contribution ‘Modelling “Literature”’, I find myself nodding my head in agreement, thinking about one of my research interests: games and literature.

One of the inspiring aspects of EXC 2020 Temporal Communities is its approach to the “concept” of literature. As Anita Traninger points out, it is probably also the most complex term in the EXC 2020’s title. After all, no one can quite put their finger on what literature is—although many try to establish what is considered “literature”.

The modelling of literature is inherently intertwined with questions of power relations—it is a somewhat less democratic process in practice. Who decides when and for what reasons something is or is not something else? Who questions the decisions? For what reasons are they not questioned?

Working as a literary scholar at the research department of the German Literature Archive in Marbach (hereafter, DLA), one of Europe’s largest literary archives, I quickly realised that, for generations, there was only a very specific concept of literature in this archive, which conceptualised what was worth collecting and archiving. This concept was determined by a limited group of individuals (these are mainly a handful of department heads, as it is done, basically, everywhere else) over the course of several decades. As a result, what we consider to be “German” literature in most institutions today is primarily male, for example.

However, in recent years, as has occurred elsewhere, a lot has developed in the DLA. Since 2019, the arrival of new personnel, bringing diverse research interests, literary perspectives, and archival concepts, has sparked numerous projects, which were predominantly well-received and supported by many (librarians, archivists, board members, and other employees) within the DLA. These endeavours focus primarily on consistently reassessing and critically interrogating the modelling of literature—something many of the DLA staff were certainly anticipating. This results not only in the collection’s expansion (including, for example, more texts by authors who are female or do not write in German), but also opens up new focal points in literary studies.

In conversations with many colleagues in the archive, I realised that, for a long time, a certain “model” of literature was accepted as “right”, so to speak. Other “models” of literature were rejected not out of malice, but out of the actual conviction that there could only be one definition of highbrow “German” literature. One could also call this a genre: The Archivable Literature. This is certainly also due to the fact that in an archive, you naturally need to have a concept of literature in order to decide competently enough what to include in the collection, since you cannot and should not collect “everything”. Theory alone is not enough for archivists; the model for literature must be applied in practice—and this, ideally, without much ado. And so, it was quite straightforward for these archivists to refer consistently to the already familiar and established collection in the archive. What is considered to be literature was constantly set in relation to what was previously considered to be literature—a vicious circle. As a result, for too long various other “types” of literature were simply rejected in the archive.

The DLA, probably the largest literature archive in the whole of Europe, is authorised to define its own acquisitions policy in its statutes. It is an institution that is also called a “canon machine”, which is intended to describe its significant influence; what is modelled as literature in the DLA has far-reaching implications for the entire field of literary studies in Germany and beyond.

As a result, it came as a surprise to many when the DLA dedicated themselves in the project ‘Born-Digitals’ to collecting and archiving games on a larger scale. The project attracted considerable attention. Numerous newspapers reported on the project and radio programs repeatedly requested interviews about our game events—literary studies projects rarely receive such media attention. During my time at the DLA, Call for Papers for our conferences on games attracted more submissions than any other event. And still, it was questioned whether games had a place in the DLA. A reporter asked me how we dared to bring games into the hallowed halls of the venerable DLA and how my colleagues were reacting to me and the project. Somewhat taken aback by the question, but above all annoyed, I replied: ‘Hmm, nobody wants to have lunch with me’ (the question was not included in the final version of the interview). Naturally, colleagues who worked with me on the project were just as enthusiastic about the game collection. The lack of understanding was mostly imposed from external sources during the years I worked there.

And this brings me back to Anita Traninger’s insight. What is considered literature is constantly changing. The fact that most of us currently only associate literature with what appears between two book covers is problematic. As previously mentioned, it often simply depends on the people who are allowed to define what is considered literature. At the DLA, for example, this has been done by employees who have been working there for several decades and certainly dedicated to making good decisions. However, in recent years, it took courage and energy to broaden people’s horizon of expectation on this topic, but it had to be done if literature modelling is to be truly inclusive and of greater significance in keeping up with developments in society.

Perhaps, retrospectively, it took a drastic step like our games project to provoke the media, scholars (especially outside the DLA), and the DLA staff to think differently about what literature can be and is. And yet, it is, in fact, very consequential that we deal with games as literary scholars. The DLA has been focussing on all media forms (theatre, music, movies etc.) of literature since it was founded. There is, in fact, an entire department called “Media Documentation” at the DLA. Thus, expanding the collection to include games occurred in a wholly organic manner.

Literature, as we know, is older than book printing, even older than writing.¹See, for example, the insight, ‘Circulation of Songs in the German-Speaking World and in Japan: Comparison Based on Anthologies 1000–1340’. It was oral for a long time. But let’s not just look to the past. In the present and even with a view to the future, what we consider to be literature is likely to change at a much faster pace than we are used to. Telling stories in ever new media, for example, is typical of the development of human communication. If there is a new medium, people use it because they think they can communicate faster or better with it: this is how the development has progressed from papyrus to letterpress printing with movable type, to digital formats that can combine text, images and sound. It is, indeed, not coincidental that the inception of game studies occurred during a period when narratologists predominantly focussed on games. Subsequently, it was promptly and rightfully observed that the gaming medium extends beyond mere narrative storytelling. Instead, games offer ample opportunities for philological analyses—a perspective we endeavour to underscore in the publications and events at the DLA.

When it comes to games at EXC 2020 Temporal Communities, we are particularly interested in philological analyses of games. One key aspect is to investigate how certain literature that we as literary scholars have been analysing for centuries is being revisited, adapted, referenced, and reinterpreted in this newer game community. You’d be quite astonished if you knew where and how frequently, for example, Kafka is featured in games.

The EXC 2020’s approach to the elusive “concept” of literature, as Traninger highlights, is particularly thought-provoking. The scepticism and questions elsewhere surrounding the inclusion of games highlight the political as well as academic and structural resistance to expanding traditional concepts of literature. This experience underscored the necessity of courage and energy in broadening perspectives within institutions like the DLA. The games project (and this serves as just one among numerous instances illustrating the augmentation of the collection at the DLA in recent years), disruptive as it may seem, prompts essential discussions about the evolving nature of literature. In summary, the dynamic relationship between literature and games exemplifies the ongoing evolution of literary forms, challenging established norms and working on a more inclusive understanding of what literature can encompass—which is a huge part of the current endeavours at the DLA.

Selected Bibliography