I received an inquiry from a woman who was hoping to obtain copies of a few missing illustrations in Hans Bruckl’s Mein Buch, which she’d had as a girl in Belgium during World War II. She didn’t know why they had been removed, but suspected that the portrait of Hitler she remembered had something to do with it. “I think,” she wrote, “my parents wanted me to know some German in case, but took out certain illustrations–also in case–depending on who was going to win the war.”
Cotsen has nine different editions of Mein Buch, published by the Munich firm R. Oldenbourg between 1923 and 1964, five of which were printed during the National Socialist period. The records in the Princeton University online catalogue indicated that Mein Buch had been reillustrated several times, but I couldn’t find any information about the nature of the changes in either Gisela Teistler’s Fibel-Findbuch: Deutschsprachige Fibeln von den Anfängen bis 1944 (2003) or Noriko Shindo’s Das Ernst Kutzer-Buch: Bio-Bibliographie (2003). So I headed down to the stacks on a hunch that some of changes to the pictures must have been politically motivated. And indeed they were–some blatant, others were more subtle.
Nowhere in the first edition of 1923 are children shown engaged in political activity. Some version of an image showing children rolling hoops and playing catch appears in all the editions in Cotsen that I looked at, but it faces different material in each case.
In the 1941 edition illustrated by Ernst Kutzer, for example, the idyllic illustration is opposite an overtly propagandistic picture of a school yard where two boys are raising the national flag while their fellow students and teacher stand by respectfully. This is entirely in keeping with the color portrait of Hitler that precedes it.
Two other images in the 1941 edition encourage children consider themselves one with the Nazi Party. Page 28 depicts an anniversary celebration of the November 9, 1923 Beer Hall Putsch, which took place in front of the Feldherrnhalle in Munich. There are no children among the spectators. But the caption, which is flanked by flaming pylons commemorating Hitler’s followers killed during the abortive uprising, urges young readers to be brave and true to the cause.
Facing it is an illustration of a mother and three children listening to a radio broadcast, rapt during the performance of “Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles.” Father is presumably away at war.
It was these three pictures and the portrait of Hitler that had been cut out of our patron’s copy of Mein Buch.
I also noticed some interesting changes in the illustrations about Christmas that seemed consistent with the Nazis’ emphasis on celebrating the holiday in the “authentic” German manner. Hans Volkert’s picture in the 1923 edition shows St. Nicholas carrying a lantern and marching along in the dark, with a switch for punishing bad children clearly visible under his arm. Just a few presents peep out of his bag and one from his pocket.
It is accompanied by two verses: the first imploring the saint to empty his bag at the singer’s house; and the second listing all the treats he left behind, with a jolly cartoon of the fruits being punished for their naughtiness over the past year.
In the spirit of reclaiming Christmas for the nation, Knecht Ruprecht, who accompanies Nicholas on his rounds according to German folklore, stands in for the Dutch saint in the 1941 edition. Knecht Ruprecht’s bag is literally bursting with toys and sweets and the switch is tied to the staff like another seasonal decoration.
The poem thanking Ruprecht for his generosity in rewarding good children says nothing about punishment….
Mein Buch was deNazified when Allied Expeditionary Forces occupied Germany after the Third Reich fell, down to the images of Christmas. The image of the children playing is reprinted in black and white and it faces a notice in English and German stating that this book’s contents are suspect, but that it can be used until that time when better ones can replace it.
St. Nikolaus the Dutch saint returns in a new flowered robe and carrying an even bigger bag with still more toys spilling out of it.
All these changes to Mein Buch suggests just how important a standard elementary schoolbook can be to a political regime–or occupying force–looking to create loyalty in tomorrow’s citizens.
Very interesting–truly frightening how propaganda extends to even books for children.