Paying lip service

Giving lip-service to Nazi engagement.   

Hans Edler had this down to a fine art. He would always say “Heil Edler” rather than Heil Hitler.” He probably mumbled in order to get away with it.

Many of the examples of this in the Schellberg books come from anecdotes that Renate James, née Edler recited to us.

It spooked his wife; she thought someone would hear and they would get into a lot of trouble about it. He didn’t worry though. His salute remained firm and “Edler” probably sounded enough like “Hitler” for it to be convincing.

And then there is some story-telling. Notably there is the incident of him doing this when the telegram boy arrives. His wife remonstrates with him. This begins a little light relief in the text. There is some foreshadowing here; a later telegram will say that Hani has chicken pox and Renate cannot come to visit. Renate knows that this cannot be true; she and Hani have both already had chicken pox. Something sinister is going on.  

Käthe Edler finds  herself accidentally at one of the Nuremberg rallies she is astounded that she actually also says Edler just as her  husband always did.  Again when she comes face to face with the Führer she uses Edler.

Hans Edler was cautious; he at least raised his arm like a good Nazi should. His daughter was an entirely different matter; she refused to do the Hitler salute at all. This may have been partly to do with her teachers. They hid her in plain sight. Yet they felt they couldn’t force her to join the BDM or salute the Führer. It wouldn’t be right for a young Jewish girl.

One can imagine as well, some households where rather than saluting the dictator they cursed him – in private, behind closed doors and under four eyes.           

Renate Edler

Renate Edler was born on 25 July 1925 in a thunderstorm at Jena. She was premature and she was not expected to live. The local priest was sent for straight away so that she might be christened. He was a little drunk.  He named her Klara Renate although her family had wanted her to be Renata, spelt the Italian way with Clara, with a C, as a second name and in honour of her two grandmothers. She always claimed that the priest’s mistake helped to save her life. 

The family moved from Jena to Nuremberg. Renate then went to the Wilhelm Löhe School. This was a school for girls run according to Lutheran principles. Renate had no idea that she was Jewish but all of the teachers who knew about her helped her family to keep this a secret from her and from the authorities. Nuremberg was possibly the worst place for a young Jewish girl to live in the 1930s. The huge rallies were held there and the prolematice race laws were created there.

She had the opportunity to go on a school trip to Italy. For this she needed a passport. Her father took her to the office where children’s passports were issued. He had a fearsome row with the officious young man there. Her father wanted her correct name on her passport.  Naturally, she had to have her name as on her birth certificate. They were sent round the corner to get an adult passport as she was already old enough. When she needed to leave Germany in 1939, she already had a passport though an identity card would have been enough. However, there was much confusion about this and having the passport already possibly made processing paperwork quicker. 

All about the Schellberg Cycle

It all began because back in 1979 my mother-in-law, Renate James (née Edler),   suddenly received a fat package in the post. It contained photocopies of letters written in German, mainly in the old script that is difficult to read. The names on the letters sounded familiar. Gradually she realised that they were from the girls with whom she attended primary / middle school in the late 1930s.  

The school had to close because it didn’t teach Nazi ideology. She was in for a shock, however, after the school closed. She found out that she was Jewish by race. She really had no idea. Absolutely none – until just a few short weeks before she came to England on the Kindertransport. Her story is contained in The House on Schellberg Street. Several publishers found it hard to believe that she had no idea. And so it was rejected several times. Happily, I’ve found a publisher who does believe it.

The letters were written in exercise books and posted on to the next girl on the list. There were three volumes and they lasted from just before World War II started until just after it ended. One of the girls found the middle volume in the attic. She made it her business to get all of the women together for a reunion.  

The letters are difficult to read, boring in places, but fascinating in others as they give an insight into what it was like for ordinary young German women in the 1940s. I’ve also read several copies of  Das Deutsche Mädchen, the magazine produced for the BDM, the girls’ equivalent of the Hitler Youth and accounts written by other German women from that time.        

Meeting Clara Lehrs

She figures in Renate’s story and soon became a real interest. She would never concede that she was Jewish. She and her husband had converted to the German Evangelical Church when the children were small. According to the Nuremberg race law, however, she was Jewish through and through. Ironically she did not escape the Holocaust because she insisted on protecting another vulnerable group- some disabled children. They survived and their class carried on meeting in her house for many years after the war.

I have written her biography. It is largely fictionalised. I’ve used fiction, in fact, as a tool for trying to find out what happened. We really have only a very little information about her. I’ve explored why she didn’t save herself when she could. I hope I’ve come up with a reasonable answer.              

Now I need a publisher. Well, we’ll see. Something I’ll mention in my next post may help.

University projects

I first started writing The House on Schellberg Street as part of my MA in Writing for Children (Winchester 1998-2000). I was advised against continuing. “It might get too grizzly.”  Nevertheless, I took it up again when I started my post at the University of Salford as a lecturer in English and Creative Writing.

I was awarded a sabbatical from September 2011 to January 2012 where I continued to work and research. Whilst working on that it became clear that Clara’s biography must come next.

As I worked on Clara, it became apparent that there were three other books to be written. They are listed below.

Five books from one sabbatical. Not bad.  

The full cycle

All of the books are readable by anyone 13+ and all are to some extent crossover young adult / adult.

The House on Schellberg Street

This is Renate’s story of her conflict about being English, German and Jewish at the same time. It also tells the story of those she left behind – her school friends, her best friend and her grandmother. Naturally, also, here we have the story of what happens in the house on Schellberg Street.   

 

Clara’s Story

This is fictionalised biography using fiction techniques. It is mainly the story of the third part of Clara’s life, aged 48 and above, though there are several scenes of when she is younger.

 

Girl in a Smart Uniform  

This is a completely fictional account but seeks to give some explanation about how the school was threatened yet managed to survive. It’s also exploring Nazi attitudes. Why was the young protagonist inclined to be cruel to start with? Why did she rate the smart uniform so much? Is it linked to the problems cause by the hyperinflation in the 1920s? The terrible 1930s depression? Indoctrination? An unhappy home life?       

 I’ve finished the first draft but it needs a lot of work. It’s possibly the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. I have to take care that I don’t give my protagonist too many excuses for what she does. Also, she needs to remain likeable.

The Woman Who Almost Shot Hitler

Oh yes. She features in The House on Schellberg Street. She has also raised the eyebrows of a publisher or two.  Again, yes, it really happened. Käthe Lehrs / Edler was another remarkable woman.    

 

The Round Robin

This revisits the girls who wrote the letters. Some of the letters, fictionalised, are in The House on Schellberg Street. This explores four of the characters in more detail and grapples further with what it must have been like for ordinary German women.    

Then there is a non-fiction project to follow.  But more about that in my next post.       

Making more backstory into frontstory

So, yes, I’ve managed to do it now. I’ve finished the eighth edit. This was all about tension, which I think is there. It is a little difficult to tell sometimes, when you’re looking at your own work.

As is often the case, it’s the other things you notice that are even more significant. This time I’ve actually expanded some scenes. It’s always about bringing the reader more into the characters’ moments. So, I’ve added a little extra scene where Renate finds a new friend.

Most importantly, I’ve made two bits of Hani’s backstory into short “frontstory” scenes. I’ve really known for some time that there was too much backstory and too many flashbacks. Somehow I couldn’t figure out how to fix this. Then suddenly it was crystal clear. I think also I have a rather stubborn streak that says enough is enough just before the script is actually ready. Have I overcome that this time?      

So now, do I also have on the web site and posted on this blog some scenes that have been expanded? Maybe, especially on the blog, given its nature.  

I’ve also rechecked some logistics about boyfriends’ names and the history of the Rundbrief. I did have everything correct, but best to check if you’re in doubt.   

The upshot of all of this is that the novel, to the nearest thousand, runs at 100,000 words. Maybe not such a bad thing, given how much I want it to cross over.   

Ruth Barnett "Person of No Nationality"

Ruth came to England in 1939 with her older brother Martin. Her father was a Jew and her mother was German. She had a slightly different experience form our own Renate Edler, whose mother was a Jew and whose father was German, but there are many parallels.

Like Renate, she didn’t know whether she was German, Jewish or English. Renate had most problems with her Jewishness but perhaps Ruth had more problems with being German: she was very young when she first left Germany. Both girls forgot their German.

The uncertainty about identity caused both girls to become depressed. Both girls ended up sleeping for a long time when they finally gave into their tiredness.

Amusingly Ruth had the opposite problem from Renate when it came to beds: the German bed with its bed roll and square pillows puzzled Ruth when she went back to Germany for the first time. Renate was puzzled by the sheets, blankets eiderdown and bedspread when she first arrived in London.

Ruth’s story shows that though the Kindertransport was well-intentioned and though it did save many lives, it did not supply a happy-ever-after ending. Both girls had three different foster homes. Ruth had some bad experiences in her first foster home. Renate was well-treated everywhere. Both girls found their parents alive again. So in many ways they were more fortunate than some of the other Kinder.

The worst for both of them was the feeling of not belonging anywhere. Renate had her serendipitous German passport but returned to Germany in 1947 as a British citizen with a British passport. Ruth had to travel as a “Person of No Nationality”. But both girls suffered from confusion about whether they were English, German or Jewish and therefore lacked an identity.

The question is, is this resolved for Renate?

Ah, well, you will just have to read the book. While you’re waiting for it to be finished, you could read Ruth’s book. 

                            

Renate’s first day at English school - deleted scenes

This scene was too long. I have taken several chunks out:

Before she set off 

The next day, though, when she got up, she felt sick.

“My mother’s made some eggs and toast,” said John. “And there’s some tea.”

Mrs Smith waved her over to the table, but Renate just shook her head. Even if she opened her mouth to speak, she knew, she would actually be sick. Her stomach was doing gymnastics and her legs felt as if they were going to give way at any second. 

Mrs Smith ran one of the hard-boiled eggs under the tap. She bundled it and a sandwich made of the strange white bread they seemed to like here into a brown paper bag. Then she took a pan off the stove and poured some water over the back of a spoon into a glass, and stirred in a spoonful of sugar. She cut a slice from a rather dry-looking lemon and dropped it into the warm water. She handed the glass to Renate and smiled.

Renate carefully took a sip. It was good. The sharpness of the lemon cut through her nausea and she could feel the sugar giving her energy. The wobbliness in her legs faded a little. But it didn’t slow the time down. It was cool enough to drink in no time and before she knew it, her uncle was there and they were on their way to the Tube.

“It’ll take quite a while,” said Uncle Rudi, once they were on the Underground train. “So you can sit back and relax.”

Time did a double take. It seemed to go slowly. Yet it seemed no time until they were climbing on to an overground train.  

How can everything seem so normal? thought Renate.

What seemed only like a few minutes later they were walking up a wide avenue. 

Reaction to Headteacher

He was so different from Herr Glaser, the young Headteacher who had run the school in Nuremberg. He always dressed in shabby trousers and a worn-out sweater.

Reaction of classmates

They didn’t take that much notice of her at first. They seemed more concerned about why Mr Brown was there. Some seemed to be trying to impress him and others seemed wary and looked as if they were trying to behave well.

“Good morning, boys and girls,” Mr Brown called to the class. Then he shouted something at people who had just arrived. They all sat down at desks. There was one left over where she was standing. Miss Thompson nodded and Renate sat down there. Mr Brown waved and made his way out to the classroom.

Cutting scenes and edit 4

Edit 4 is really supposed to be about whether the timeline works. These days, I actually tend to address that at the planning stage. However, this time I was still looking for a sort of balance. Was each of the three story threads jogging along smoothly? Did they dovetail well?

As my writing progressed, I noticed, I’d been presenting small vignette-like scenes. Two chapters, however, stuck out as being much too long:

The one where Renate first goes to her new school.

The one where Hani attends her BDM inaugural ceremony.

For Renate, I’ve cut out all of the anticipation and the journey to school, and then some of the first interactions between her and her new class. For Hani, I’ve cut out her trying on her new uniform and some of the details of the ceremony. I’ve managed to retain these elements, however – I hope – by including short phrases elsewhere in the narrative.

These passages were well written and they did give useful information. But they didn’t fit with the overall tone of the book. As usual, also, they had been quite useful in allowing me to understand more about the story. They will have a purpose on the web site and this blog. They will give more information about the apprehension that Kinder felt about almost every aspect of life in England and about the content of a BDM inauguration. They will also reflect on that important part of a writer’s practice: killing off darlings.                

Deleted scene: Anika and Helga find out about Renate

I've cut Helga out of this scene altogether. Helga's part did not add to the plot. This scene was slowing the story down. But ti does show some character development - which may have been there more for my sake than for the sake of the story. 

Anika 25 April 1939

“It’s someone for you,” Anika’s mother called.

Anika looked up from her game of clock patience.

There was someone at the door for her?

Well, yes, she’d heard the doorbell ring. That was rare as well. What was the matter with people these days? No one was making visits any more.  Everybody was just so serious all the time.

But it was for her? No, she must be dreaming.

“Well, come on then,” called her mother. “Aren’t you going to come and greet your guest?”

Curious, Anika wandered into the hall way.

It was Helga. Helga was standing there beaming at her.

“You will come and help, won’t you?” she asked. “The grown-ups haven’t got enough patience. We’re taking my cousins on a picnic. Not this Saturday. But the one after. Will you come?”

Anika didn’t know what to say. She really wasn’t sure she knew how to look after little children.

“Well, I don’t know … what would you want me to do?” she asked.

“Nothing much,” replied Helga. “Just help with a few games. And maybe make some sandwiches. Perhaps you could bake a cake.”

Not much then. But Helga looked so enthusiastic, Anika knew she couldn’t refuse.

“All right then,” she said slowly. “I’ll come.” She really wished, though, that Helga had never asked.

“Oh for goodness sake,” said Anika’s mother coming into the all. “Show your friend in properly. Go into the sitting room. Would you like some tea, Helga?”

“Oh yes please, Frau Müller,” said Helga.

“Anika, there are still some of those almond biscuits I made. Offer some to your guest.”

Minutes later, the two girls were in the sitting room. Anika found she quite liked being the hostess and pouring out tea, and offering her guest biscuits. But soon the gossip was just like the old days.  Except that it was different, because they had so much to tell each other.

“At least you’re going to be doing something you enjoy,” said Anika with a sigh. “The Piloty school sounds as if it’s going to be so dull. Just hard work. No fun. I don’t think I like this idea of the three Cs.”

“Three Cs?” asked Helga.

“You know, children, cooking, church,” said Anika.

“Ah yes,” said Helga. “The good little German Hausfrau. I don’t mind the children, though.” 

“That’s horrible,” said Helga. “The poor man.”

“I know,” said Anika. “I wonder who did it. And how could they?”

“I don’t know,” said Helga. “It’s really horrid.”

“I’m so angry with Fritz as well for finding it so … well, exciting,” said Anika.

[In between these two passages Anika’s brother Fritz comes home and reports that he and his Hitler Youth friends have found Herr Kohn’s body in the forest.  He appears to have been shot.  Later, they all realise that he has merely been knocked out and he may have done it himself by walking into a tree. He is old and somewhat demented. He is also Jewish. The characters in the story and the readers are left to come to their own conclusions.]      

“I suppose at least it’s something for the letter,” said Helga. “I was getting worried I’d have nothing new to say.”

“Isn’t it about time we were getting another one?” asked Anika. “I hope it doesn’t all die a death. It’s a really good way of keeping in touch, now that we’re all over the place.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Helga. “And I am looking forward to seeing what Renate has to say. I wonder how she’s getting on in Stuttgart.”

“Yes, and I’m really looking forward to some more of her pictures,” said Anika. “It’s not like her to delay things though. Perhaps she’s just busy.”

“Aren’t we all?” replied Helga. “Even if we’re bored as well, sometimes.”

“You don’t sound as if you’re bored,” replied Anika. “You’re always doing things with your little cousins.”

“Yeah!” said Helga grinning.