Otago German Studies (E-Journal)

Schilling, Ulrike

Kurt Singer - Karl Wolfskehl - "Der Mensch ist ein Ganzes, eins in jeder seiner unterschiedlichen Erscheinungen, eins auf jedem seiner unterschiedlichen Wege."

--, --

4.4 Peter Rühmkorf: \u27Rotkäppchen und der Wolfspelz\u27

English

Meine Kinderjahre: Dichtung und Wahrheit

7. Human Nature:The Future of the Individual

Personenregister 
Adrian, S. 585, 588 
Albert, H. 966 
Alexander, 141, 270 
Altzinger, E. 889 
Anz, T. 322, 334 
Anzinger, S. 28 
Arnold, H. 439 
Arnold, VI. 108,470,921 
Artmann, H. 281, 292 
Attersee, C. 28, 188 
Auffermann, V. 525 
Ayren, A. 582 
Bachmann, D. 404 
Bader, S. 507 
Baier, L. 448 
Barner, VI. 373 
Barth, A. 607 
Bauer, VI. 37, 254, 273, 281 
Bauschinger, S. 318 
Beckelmann, J. 712 
Becker, P. von 474, 490 
Beckermann, T. 621 
Beckett, S. 11, 17, 84 
Beckmann, H. 451, 514 
Beer, 0. 608, 610, 510, 571 
Behrens, A. 444 
Berger, K. 75 
Bergmann, M. 541 
Bernau, 0. 960 
Bernhard, T. 169, 594 
Best, A. 358" 
Beyer, VI. 778 
Blaha, P. 466, 545 
Blahacek, R. 931 
Bloch, P. 201 
Blocker, G. 416, 563 
Bockelmann, M. 100 
Brandl, H. 28 
121 
Brandstaller, T. 266, 876, 877 
Brandt, E. 715 
Brauer, A. 28 
Brauneck, M. 362 
Brecht, B. 269 
Breisach, E. 260, 278, 518, 605 
Breitenstein, A. 789 
Brettschuh, G. 846 
Briegleb, K. 371 
Broer, W. 722 
Bremme, I. 955 
Brus, G. 20, 22, 28, 184, 260, 852 
Bukowski, C. 829 
Bummler, B. 831 
Burri, P. 479, 598 
Bussink, G. 10 
Butterweck, H. 794 
Carius, K. 8 
Cejpek, L. 214, 234, 642, 781 
Chorherr, T. 991 
Christoph, H. 467 
Cibulka, H. 28 
Colberg, K. 544, 951 
Cramer, S. 335, 634, 637, 730, 790 
Critchfield, A. 319, 351 
Czurda, E. 478 
Daiber, H. 124 
Deix, M. 28 
DeMeritt, L. 331 
Demmer, E. 874 
Dieman, K. 958 
Diercks, M. 755, 799 
Dittberner, H. 442 
Dor, M. 162 
Drewitz, I. 502 
Drews, J. 97,299,305,386,422,446,523,551 
Durzak, M. 304, 359 
Ebel, M. 638 
Eder, C. 989 
Egelkraut, 0. 494 
Egerer, H. 215 
122 
Egg, L. 28 
Eisenlohr, H. 999 
Eisler, G. 28 
Elis, I. 665, 943 
Endres, E. 519, 549, 601 
Engelhard, G. 674 
Ensberg,P. 250,328,346,348 
Esslinger, S. 203 
Faber, H. 994 
Faudon, K. 256 
Federico,J. 333 
Fian, A. 990, 999 
Fischer, J. 28 
Fitzi, P. 271 
Franke, E. 706 
Frankfurter, J. 205, 206, 536, 547, 573, 597, 845, 924 
Frankl, M. 493 
Franz, V. 249 
Fredot, H. 539 
Frisch, M. 17, 134 
Frischmuth, B. 99 
Fritz, W. 435 
Frohner, A. 28, 191 
Froidevaux, G. 555 
Fuchs, H. 996 
Furness, R. 369 
Garber, J. 28 
Geyrhofer, F. 7 51 
Gironcoli, B. 78 
Glaser, D. 284 
Gogh, V. van 165, 167 
Gomer, R. 367 
Gartz, F. 336 
Grack, G. 495 
Gradischnig, D. 568 
Grashoff, P. 1, 2 
Grashoff, W. 447 
Green, M. 1 
Greiner, U. 302, 441, 509, 612 
Griem, H. 864 
Grieser, D. 396 
123 
Grilj, M. 663 
Grissemann, C. 957 
Grond, W. 323,640,732 
Groot, C. de 321 
Gruber, R. 413, 437, 460, 557, 819, 935 
Gri.inbi.ihl, T. 542 
Haberland, P. 329 
Hackl, E. 181, 781 
Hadecke, W. 454 
Hahnl, H. 667 
Haider, H. 180, 281, 504, 565, 618, 625, 673, 978 
Handke,P.969 
Harb, K. 473, 537 
Hartl, E. 548, 602, 631 
Hartwig, H. 218 
Haslwanter, U. 356 
Hauser, J. 28 
Hausner, R. 28 
Heim, U. 745 
Hell, B. 738 
Heller, A. 11, 17, 111, 227 
Hemmingway, E. 144 
Henisch, P. 379 
Henke, R. 220 · 
Hensel, G. 400, 4 72 
Herbeck, E. 141, 270 
Herbrich, 0. 476 
Herzig, W. 28 
Herzog, H. 211 
Hesse, H. 11, 17, 116 
Hinck, W .. 337, 644, 691, 761, 805 
Hirschmann, C. 224, 228, 230, 235, 243, 757, 777, 865 
Hitler, A. 29, 71 
Hochgatterer, P. 773, 798 
Hofer, J. 314 
Hofer, G. 554 
Hoffmann, C. 770 
Hoffmann, Y. 5 
Hollegha, W. 28 
Hopfmliller, G. 570 
Horner, W. 524 
124 
Horvat, D. 327 
Hosterey, I. 326 
Hridlicka, A. 28 
Huemer, P. 995 
Humble, M. 369 
Hundertwasser, F. 28 
Hupka, K. 959 
Hurton, A. 753 
Hiittenegger, B. 930 
Hutter, W. 28 
Hutter, F. 823, 856, 858, 859, 871 
Ickert, K. 576 
Iden, P. 486 
Ing en, F. van 3 20 
Innerhofer, R. 363 
Ionesco, E. 92, 153, 978 
J aesrich, H. 620 
Jager, G. 405 
Jandl, E. 943, 950 
Jankowitsch, P. 220 
Jannings, E. 11, 17, 107 
Jellici, J. 6 
Jencic, L. 5 
Jetschgo, J. 229, 244, 696, 769 
John, R. 813, 842 
Johnny, 374 
Jost, D. 418 
Jungk, P. 338 
Just, R. 686 
Kahl, K. 385,427,443,505,574,746,752,754,756,797 
Kain, F. 292 
Kaindlstorfer, G. 216, 950 
Kaiser, J. 449 
Kaiser, K. 780 
Kandler, W. 900 
Kappacher, W. 258 
Kastberger, K. 7 66 
Kathrein, K. 242, 540, 668, 672 
Kees, E. 940 
Kellermayr, R. 679 
Kempf, T. 705 
125 
Kempinger, H. 710 
Kermisch, A-G. 10 
Kernbeis, F. 28 
Kilb, A. 693 
Killmeyer, F. 24, 26, 166 
Kindermann, D. 591 
Koberg, R. 873 
Kocherscheidt, K. 28 
Koebner, T. 360 
Kofler, G. 543 
Kohl, A. 965 
Koller, F. 28 
Kolleritsch, A. 11, 17, 82, 132, 281 
Konrad, F. 4 77 
Koppensteiner, J. 311 
Kopplin, W. 639 
Korec, J. 28 
Korling, M. 587 
Kosler, H. 366, 741, 771 
Koster, C. 713 
Kratzer, W. 392 
Kratzl, K. 873 
Kraus,M. 324,352 
Krause, W. 208,212,217,232,239,689,719,737,855,910,987 
Kreisky, B. 11, 13, 17, 107, 138, 176, 937, 938 
Krieg, K. 802 
Krohn, R. 560 
Krolow, K. 411, 513, 517, 599, 600 
Krotz, A. 243 
Kriiger, C. 100 
Kruntorad, P. 546, 678, 683, 688 
Kuhn, C. 403 
Kurzman, A. 27, 209 
Kuscher, M. 953 
Lackner, E. 210, 578, 828 
Laederach,J. 200,297 
Laemmele, P. 97, 264, 305,310,433,434, 529, 633, 728 
Lange, H. 827 
Lassnig, M. 28 
Lasutschenko, L. 833 
Lehmden, A. 28 
126 
Lehner, F. 251 
Leiler, A. 934 
Leitgeb, G. 992 
Leitner, 0. 500, 952 
Lemmon, J. 819 
Lesle, L. 207, 584, 1004 
Litaize, M. 5 
Litsauer, J. 967 
Ludke,M. 580,609 
Luft, F. 496, 497 
Makk, S. 558 
Malek, J. 238 
Mandorfer, P. 792 
Mano la, F. 807 
Matt, B. von 450 
Mayer, G. 670 
Mayrocker, F. 292 
Melzer, G. 22, 306, 312, 426, 569, 622, 628, 767, 949 
Melzer, I. 255, 259, 263, 464, 469, 852 
Menasse, R. 316 
Meyhofer, A. 345 
Michaelis, R. 520 
Miehe, R. 718 
Mikl, J. 28 
Miller, H. 80 
Minaty, W. 692, 721 
Minetti, B. 866 
Mitchum, R. 819 
Mitterbach, H. 961 
Mitteregger, C. 776 
Mixner, M. 276, 381 
Mochel, E. 864 
Mock, A. 220 
Molden, H. 223 
Moldovan, K. 28 
Moser, G. 699 
Moser-Ehinger, H. 484 
Muhl, 0. 59 
Muller, K. 13 
Muller, M. 372 
Nabl, F. 11, 17, 96 
127 
Nagel, W. 624 
Naredi-Rainer, E. 929 
Navratil, L. 113, 141 
Navratil, W. 28 
Nedetzky, I. 614 
Nef, E. 623, 708, 725 
Neugroschl, J. 10 
Neumann, H. 420 
Nichols, B. 296, 438, 899, 920 
Nichols, H. 942 
Nitsch, H. 28, 147, 193 
Nlichtem, K. 993 
Oberhuber, 0. 28 
Obermuller, K. 339, 695 
Ohlig, A. 528 
Pataki, H. 800 
Pehmer, H. 646 
Penelope,389,409 
Perger, W. 593 
Petsch, B. 231, 796 
Pfoser-Schewig, K. 248 
Philippi, K. 717 
Pichler, G. 221, 340, 723 
Pichler, M. 747 
Pichler, W. 28, 185 
Pizzine, D. 406, 763 
Plaice, S. 535 
Plakolb, L. 492 
Pongratz, P. 11, 17, 28, 30, 85, 95, 190, 261,273,274 
Prantl, K. 28 
Prillmann, H. 511 
Puhl, W. 626 
Putz, F. 988 
Quack, J 394 
Rachinger, I. 630 
Raddatz, F. 167, 567, 643 
Rainer, A. 28, 187 
Raschke, U. 380 
Rathjen, F. 698, 724 
Raus, M. 388 
Rauscher, H. 590 
128 
Reichensperger, R. 1000 
Reimann, V. 468 
Reininger, A. 307 
Renger, R. 787 
Rhode, G. 398 
Rieder, A. 378 
Riedl, J. 462 
Riedmann, G. 452 
Riewoldt, 0. 532 
Ringel, F. 28 
Ritter, R. 213, 651, 658, 660, 661, 809, 944, 945 
Ro bier, I. 246, 803 
Rohde, G. 825 
Rosenboom, H. 606 
Rosendorfer, H. 428 
RoBmann, A. 498 
Roth, E. 660 
Roth, T. 268, 892 
Rudle, D.175, 222, 697, 716, 733, 862 
Ri.iedi, P. 483, 488 
Russ, B. 522 
Ryan,S. 349,350,355,364 
Salzger, I. 353 
Sang,J. 308 
Schachtsiek-Freitag, N. 391, 562 
Schaffer,E.459,461,465,655,657,662, 714,806,811,812,878 
Schafroth, H. 393, 707 
Schandor, W. 7 64 
Scharang,1\1. 912,963 
Schimunek, G. 11, 17, 94 
Schirhuber, E. 589 
Schlag, E. 341 
Schliesser, R. 829 
Schloz, G. 645 
Schmidt, A. 440, 521, 927 
Schmidt, H. 384 
Schmidt-Dengler, W. 783 
Schmidt-1\1issner, J. 703, 704 
Schmitt, C. 375 
Schnehen, R. 970 
Schodel, H. 475, 682, 759, 804 
129 
Scholz, N. 287 
Schonauer, H. 727 
Schonwald, R. 28 
Schopke,P. 28 
Schorno, P. 481 
Schostack, R. 559 
Schottenberg, M. 225, 265, 267, 860, 880, 881, 882, 883, 884, 
885,888,890 
Schramm, G. 526, 552 
Schreckenberger, H. 12, 250, 330, 348 
Schwarzenberger, X. 258, 837, 870 
Schwarzkogler, R. 28 
Schweikert, U. 530 
Sebald, VI. 313,317,367 
Siegrist, C. 453 
Simon, C. 11, 17, 88 
Sjogren, A-M. und H. 12 
Sollner-Flirst, U. 772 
Sperl, G. 457 
Spiel, H. 357, 397, 471, 538 
Spies, H. 300, 303, 875 
Springer, M. 432 
Stadler, F. 743 
Stange, C. 417 
Stefani, G. 635 
Stekelenburg, D. van 320 
Stephan, R. 482 
Stingl, A. 157, 970, 972 
Stoberer, H. 408 
Stocklmair, H. 852 
Stolte-Adelt 561 
Strassle, U. 577 
Strater, L. 685 
Strech, H. 701, 793 
Strobl, H. 613 
Stumm, R. 401, 485 
Suss, S. 57 5 
Szabo, G. 998 
Szigethy, I. 11, 17, 89 
Szyskowitz, G. 964 
Tabor, J. 615 
130 
Tauber, R. 508, 629, 786 
Tax, H. 969 
Teuffenbach,1.431,581 
Thaler, W. 423 
Thieringer, T. 474, 840 
Thun, E. 487 
Tietze, W. 342, 354 
Titz, W. 748, 930 
Tolmein, 0. 632 
Traversa, I. 862 
Traxler, G. 997 
Trenkler, T. 650 
Trost, E. 256 
Tschirtner, 0. 28, 186 
Turrini, P. 13, 941 
Ueding, G. 604 
Ullrich, G. 531 
Unseld, S. 101 
Updike, J. 533 
Urban, E. 233 
Vausant, J. 12 
Vogl, W.237,332,690,694 
Voit, F. 309 
Volker, K. 368, 395, 419 
Vormweg, H. 421 
V oser, I. 402 
Vujica, P. 480 
Waldner, G. 669 
Walla, A. 28 
Wallmann,J. 390,414,415,445,553 
Warnes, A. 376, 702, 742, 788 
Weibel, P. 617 
Weichinger, R. 247, 286, 287, 288, 290, 292, 343, 760, 791 
Weiermaier, P. 98 
Weigel, S. 371 
Weiler, M. 28, 192 
Weinzierl, U. 666 
Widmann, A. 675 
Widmer, U. 301 
Wielander, R. 325 
Wilhelm, E. 534 
131 
Wilke, C. 579 
Williams, T. 252, 814, 815 
Willmann, M. 22 
Wimmer, K. 204, 765, 903 
Wimmer, P. 636, 647 
Wittstock, U. 50, 69, 158, 161, 177,183,344 
Wlasich, K. 843 
Wolber, T. 347 
W olfschtitz, H. 358 
Wtillner, J. 641 
Zadrazil, F. 28 
Zalto, F. 583 
Zankl, H. 273 
Zecha, F. 261, 274 
Zelger-Vogt, M. 506, 572, 603 
Zeppel-Sperl, R. 28 
Zeyringer, K. 315, 370 
Zmegac, V. 361 
132 


Personenregister

Homer in Goethe\u27s Iphigenie auf Tauris and in Grillparzer\u27s Weh dem, der lügt

Delbrück, Hansgerd

Homer in Goethe\u27s Iphigenie auf Tauris and in Grillparzer\u27s Weh dem, der lügt!

Hauptmann\u27s The Weavers as "Social Sculpture

Sutherland, Margaret

Hauptmann\u27s The Weavers as "Social Sculpture"

Wittmann, Livia Käthe

Erinnerte "Wirklichkeit" und erzählte "Fiktion": Das Neuseeland der Otti Binswanger in den Jahren 1939-1948

Graham, John

John Graham 
Ultima Thule. A Reminsicence 
It is one thing to put down on paper the recording of times spent 
with a very dear friend and quite a different thing to stand up and 
speak of those times to a gathering of relative strangers. But having 
said that, I hope at the end of this, we may be less of strangers to 
each other. 
Memory has a habit of distorting and altering the reality of a time 
that one wishes to recall. Much is lost in the process of growing old. 
A full recollection and recovery of the hours spent during episodes 
that took place over fifty years ago is not possible. All that remains 
are the salient features and incidents that have been indelibly 
imprinted on my memory. It will be these features that I hope to 
share with you. 
I have selected this from essays written over the past forty years. 
Some of what I now present appeared in the publication in 1960 by 
Castrum Peregrini Press, of Kalon Bekawod Namir; also from an 
essay in Landfall in 1969, and recently again by Castrum Peregrini 
part of a translation of a manuscript yet to be published in English. 
In 1944 I was living in Wellington. I had a friend who was working 
in a refrigeration warehouse in Taranaki Street. Working with him 
in a small office was a woman named Gerda Eichbaum. My friend 
and I had decided to live in Auckland and before we went Gerda 
Eichbaum gave us the address of Karl Wolfskehl. She knew that we 
both had a general interest in literature, and she no doubt thought 
we would be interested in meeting him. 
I vaguely remember the tram ride up Mt. Eden Road to where he 
lived in a house in St. Andrews Road; a bungalow type of house 
indistinguishable from all the other houses in the street. 
When he came to the door I was greeted by a huge man dressed in 
dark clothes. He seemed to tower above me as I stood there 
wondering how to introduce myself. He looked down at me 
through thick highly magnifying spectacles that seemed to frame 
his marble like features that had been carved in another world. I 
had met the person who was to open for me so many doors that 
would lead me into the world that had made him. He invited me in 
and thus began a dialogue of friendship between two people from 
two diametrically opposite ends of the earth. Karl Wolfskehl from 
354 
the salons of Schwabing and European intellectual company; and 
myself from a provincial colonialism as far removed from the 
traditions of Europe as it was possible to get. 
I consider that I was greatly privileged in knowing him and being 
accepted as a friend. Through him I was able to find a direction in 
my otherwise rather chaotic life. 
It is true that I carried with me a fair degree of the romantic; this 
being at odds with the mores dictated by the New Zealand accepted 
social fabric, placed me on the outside of the world into which I was 
born. I didn't know where I belonged, nor did I know where I was 
going. 
Karl Wolfskehl, by his presence alone, made me realise that exile 
has many shapes. He in an Antipodean back water of Mt. Eden, and 
myself in the same milieu into which I was born. Hence the sense of 
togetherness that prevailed in our relationship. 
His vast knowledge of literature and the arts was shared with me. He 
spoke of people he had known in Europe; his only contact with 
them was by correspondence. Many had suffered the same fate and 
were scattered throughout the world. His interest in many fields 
beyond his immediate work, was never dismissive or cursory. His 
enthusiasm for small things was almost childlike. Everything he 
touched and saw was of importance to him. He was writing a great 
deal of poetry and he spoke of the period as being his most 
prolific. I remember him working on the Job or The Four Mirrors 
sequence and his attempts to translate it for me. 
A small episode one evening illustrated for me the almost impos-
sible task of translating faithfully the poetic nuances from one lan-
guage to another. Karl had been reading to me part of the Second 
Mirror sequence he had been working on that day. The blinded 
Samson had been brought up from the dungeon and was placed 
before the rabble who were baying for him to perform. They cried 
out, and what they cried out was translated by Karl as "Sock him on 
the jaw." I remarked to him that I didn't think that the line was 
poetry, Karl's reply was. "But isn't that a good colloquialism." I 
said it was but . . . I cannot remember the line in German. I do not 
know whether that New Zealand colloquialism has entered the 
German language. 
I sometimes wonder at the incongruities of the human condition, 
and those meaningless dictates of history that add blind cruelty to 
lives already over burdened with trying to remain alive and above 
despair. It was such a dictate of history that placed Karl at the far 
355 
end of the earth. The small suburban world of Mt. Eden was a far 
alien call from Darmstadt and Munich, Stefan George and Hof-
mannsthal. 
In this world of his exile he often remarked on the incongruity of 
the symbols that reminded him of his European past; the fig tree 
growing on the lawn outside his window, a cypress trimmed to fit 
between a wall and a fence; the Bavarian pines standing as exotic 
intruders in the indigenous green of the New Zealand forest. 
He used these symbols of exile and transplantation in many of the 
poems he wrote during his last ten years. He would read them to me 
in German and together we would translate them into spoken 
English. The theme of isolation seemed to dominate the works that 
he read to me. I believe it was his strength of spirit that sustained 
him during the ten years if his exile. The Europe he knew was in 
the grip of a mad man, and no matter what the outcome there, there 
could be no returning for him. He accepted his exile as an 
inevitable conclusion to his historic destiny. 
I used to visit him mainly in the evenings. I cannot describe those 
visits in any great detail, nor can I remember the exact words we 
spoke, nor how the hours passed. I only remember the exhilaration 
I felt when I left him as I ran down the hill to the tramline. It was as 
if I had partaken of a heady wine. But then all we had drunk during 
those evenings was Liptons tea. 
Perhaps the poet and novelist Hans Carossa has expressed it better 
when he said "whoever has spent one hour with Karl W olfskehl will 
admit that he went from him in a noble way disquieted, and that he 
learned through a new mode of discrimination, and took on his way 
a longing such as one feels for the depths of the universe." 
Although, like the fig· tree, having been transplanted to an alien soil, 
he carried with him the genetic language and culture of two great 
races, German and Jewish. I believe that neither dominated his 
personality, but that he combined the essence of both, and in so 
doing, created the man whose memory we are commemorating 
tonight. 
I can not apply any critical assessment to what transpired between 
us during the meetings I had with him. All I know is that there was 
an understanding between us, disparate as we were in respect of 
scholarship and background, that defied analysis. It was only much 
later, when he was no longer alive, that I realised how much he had 
given me, and how much of him I took with me throughout all the 
years. 
356 
I am not a scholar, nor am I fluent in the German language. Others 
have written their treatises on his work. My involvement in his life 
was one of friendship, and that friendship was of greater 
importance to me than any academic approach I may have been 
able to make had I been skilled in the German language. I can only 
speak of him through an understanding that is above and beyond 
any form of outright expression. 
The war years dragged on and I marked time with them. We did not 
discuss the war, nor did we speak of politics. The horror that had 
engulfed his home country seemed for a while forgotten as we 
joked and laughed about good Teutonic words. I think I was able 
to divert him for a time from living in the depths of his exile. He 
was able to tell me that New Zealand was now his adopted country, 
He was grateful for the asylum that had been offered him. And it as 
here he told me that he was doing his best work. 
He must have been astute enough to realise where the political 
machine in Germany was heading. In 1933 he left for Italy where 
he lived until 1938. Realising that the fascist regime there would 
not long tolerate his presence he took out a map to find the country 
furthest from Europe where he might find refuge. In numerous 
letters to friends abroad he spoke with gratitude of the country of 
his exile. 
Before he left Germany he had purchased a large vineyard and 
mansion (he referred to it as his Schloss) at Kiechlinsbergen where 
he left his Dutch born wife and daughters knowing they would be 
safe from persecution. Accompanying him to New Zealand was his 
faithful and devoted companion, Margot Ruben, who remained with 
him until his death in 1948. Perhaps not enough has been made of 
her role during those years. Without her his life would have been 
much more difficult than it was. The income from the sale of his 
library before he left Germany was soon exhausted, Margot 
Ruben's income from her teaching position was able to sustain 
them both, although at a frugal level. 
Memory has been modified by the years. Therefore I cannot claim 
any great accuracy in respect of some of the details of that period 
which seems now to be passing like cloud shadows over a foreign 
field. But emerging from those shadows there are sharply 
delineated features that stand as signposts on a long journey. 
Karl Wolfskehl knew from the history of his people what the 
human animal was capable of. He saw what had happened to his 
world as a denouement of an evil play. The last ten years of his life 
357 
were spent in virtual isolation. Apart from a few people in 
Auckland with whom he could converse, and the contact he 
maintained through correspondence with dispersed friends all over 
the world, he was alone. In Munich he had been king in his circle, 
here he was just another foreigner. New Zealand in general did not 
know who had arrived on these shores. 
One of my last memories of him is in a small room in a house· in 
Coronation Road. Outside his window was tethered a racehorse, an 
investment of his new landlady. In the small cramped room were 
some of the relics of his past. It was a hot summer day and a 
heaviness hung over the afternoon. He was looking for a book to 
give me. His near blindness, coupled with a natural clumsiness 
made his presence in that room akin to that of a trapped creature. 
The price he paid for finding that book was a broken lampstand 
and a smashed teapot. 
How he worked and produced his poetry under such conditions 
might be a lesson for those who aspire to be writers, but who have 
an eye on a flat in Bloomsbury, or a safe house in Menton, or in a 
university sinecure. 
In 1946 I went to Japan, and for twelve months I was only able to 
correspond with him. I had joined the ranks of those other friends 
of his who were scattered around the world. When I returned, my 
visits to him continued for a little while. I had brought back with 
me some presents of small carved wooden boxes which I gave to 
him. His delight was almost childlike as he fondled them, tracing 
the outlines with his fingers, and holding them close to his eye. He 
had aged a great deal since I had been away and was far from well. 
As I sat with him I could see that some of his great strength had 
gone. He told me that he was still writing but that he was finding it 
difficult to get enough done each day. 
When I told him I had booked a passage to England he was silent 
for a long time. Then he stood up and paced about. He turned and 
smiled and said "that is wonderful. For you that is the right thing." · 
He then went to his table where he had been working and picked up 
a piece of paper and gave it to me. "Here is my four liner for 
you." It was headed "Dichter dem Dichter". He had als'o translated 
the German for me. I think those four lines expressed most suc-
cinctly the relationship I had with him. He then gave me a photo-
graph of him standing before a large kauri tree. Inscribed on the 
back in large writing was "to Jack and always together" and signed 
K. W. Later that afternoon I took leave of him not realising that I 
358 
had seen him for the last time. 
In 1988 I was able to visit his home city of Darmstadt, where I 
attended a reading of his poetry and letters by Paul Hoffmann and 
Christian Bech. Although I could not understand fully the lan-
guage, I could hear the lyricism, the music of those words, and I 
wondered how much of what I was hearing had been spoken to me 
all those years ago in Mt. Eden. I visited the Wolfskehl Garden, 
where I wandered through the grounds where his father's house 
stood before it was bombed to the ground in 1944. There is a 
children's playground now where the house stood. Through the 
trees stands the summer house; all that remains of the home where 
Karl Wolfskehl may have visited. I wandered where I believe he 
may have wandered, and as I walked through the garden on that 
warm summer afternoon I could almost believe that I felt the 
presence of an old friend by my side. 
The theme for my address is contained in the Latin words Ultima 
Thule. Thule according to Polybios, the Greek historian was a land 
six days sailing north of Britain. Ultima Thule in the legends of 
Europe came to mean the extreme limit of travel and discovery, the 
highest or uppermost point or degree attained or attainable. 
Karl Wolfskehl, in order to survive the horror that had engulfed his 
country, looked at a map of the world and chose New Zealand as 
the place where he might find refuge - the remotest place, the 
furthest, that which was attainable - his Ultima Thule. 
ULTIMA THULE 
You saw the grey green land historic fate 
had urged you claim as being furthest removed 
from a Europe shadowed by death. 
You saw the scrub shaded hills roll down 
to pencilled lines of sand limned 
harshly under Capricorn. 
You walked the streets of an alien city 
peopled by strangers in the afternoon 
and awoke in the morning with memories 
of other dreams. 
You found this house in a street of boxes 
with concrete ribboned lawns and standard roses 
set like slaves beyond the gate. 
359 
And freedom meant so much to you. 
You met some people who'd read Verlaine and Wedekind 
and gave. you tea and wine and spoke 
of growing pains in the Antipodes, 
and who forgot to refill your glass. 
You saw the fig tree and the cypress trimmed to fit 
between your window and the fence. 
And in the backyard grew the alien com. 
Transplanted too, but needing not this soil 
to give you words or roots. (Your roots in other lands.) 
Yet knowing the one sun, feeling the one 
all embracing wind. 
Measured time needed no clock to mark the days 
you spent writing above the tick-tock sleep 
of a land not yet touched by time. 
You lay within the sound of alien surf 
surging back to other lands. 
and minutes stood like hours, and sleep 
was not enough. 
"Aber genug ist nicht genu g." 
Trembling to read with tired eyes dimmed 
by seeing so much of a worlds sorrow, 
but seeing some hope in the friends 
who never forgot. 
Letters from America, Palestine, and Switzerland. 
And Munich meant so much to you. 
You spoke of Hofmannsthal and Stefan George 
To those who might have cared, might have known 
the fig tree on the lawn was not a native 
from the native bush. 
And all this while friends were dying 
before their time, 
nailed to an iron cross. 
360 
--···- --------------------------------
Then in the main street of your exile 
the bands played our heroes home. 
It was over then. Only tears in the eyes 
of those who cried to the liar dream 
knowing no catharsis could be reached. 
Now resting quiet in soil not alien now, 
but embracing in its darkness, yielding now 
all it withheld when sun shadowed your steps 
not silent yet, but echoing where you trod. 
361 


Ultima Thule. A Reminiscence

Blumenfeld, Maja

Maja, Konrad ,und Gerti Blumenfeld 
Erinnerungen an Karl Wolfskehl 
Maja Blumenfeld-Bagly: 
Wer hatte damals 1938 an 'Zuriickschauen' geglaubt - 1938 als K. 
W. und Margot Ruben nach Auckland kamen. Wirklich ist es unser 
gnadiges Geschick - 'Zuriickzublicken'. 
K. W. war immer der Umwelt aufgetan- aber er muBte sich 'treu' 
bleiben - wenn die Umwelt, die er verlieB - ibm die Treue nicht 
bewahrte. - Er war zugleich der engste Freund unseres Eltemhauses 
in den schwerwiegenden Jahren von 1938-45 - und dann his zu 
seinem Tode im Jahre 1948. - Die Geborgenheit tat ibm wohl - und 
sein Dasein beschenkte uns. Abendabschiedsworte an meine Mut-
ter: "Danke furs Kommen diirfen." In diesen Jahren des Wirrens 
und Verwirrens war es immer "die Stimme", der wir zuhorten. Der 
erste gemeinsame Versohnungstag-Abend in unserem Hause trug 
das Vorahnen, das Miterleben, die Unzulanglichkeit der mensch-
lichen Schicksale konzentriert und zum Greifen nahe, in den Raum, 
der uns mit diesen Wan den aufnahm. - Dann in den J ahren danach 
konnte man dann und wann K. W. und meinen Vater - jeder in sei-
nem Sessel sitzend - innerlich horchend finden - iiberwaltigt in 
ihrem Vorahnen. - Und doch - kaum zu fassen - dieser Raum horte 
auch wirkliche Geselligkeit - UberflieBen der Wort - und die ver-
trauten Schiittelreime. 
Me in Bruder und ich wurden zuerst alleine von K. W. und Margot 
Ruben eingeladen zu einem Abend in ihrer W ohnung in der Espla-
nade Rd., Mt. Eden. Wir wohnten sehr nahe - in der Grange Rd. Ich 
konnte es damals zuerst nicht glauben, daB es der Dichter K. W. 
dort war, der mit und zu uns sprach. Denn das, was mir noch im 
BewuBtsein war, war der Artikel in der Jiidischen Rundschau von 
Robert Weltsch tiber K. W. und ich glaube mit einem Gedicht aus 
dem Band Die Stimme spricht. Das war einige Jahre zuvor in 
Berlin. - Spater in unserem Hause erzahlten K. W. und Margot 
Ruben, daB sie unseren Eltem bei meinem Onkel und meiner Tante 
zuerst begegneten und daB ihnen beide auch als ein Ehepaar so gut 
gefielen. - K. W. war immer ein naher Freund- schon Monate vor 
dem Tode meines Vaters brachte er mir besorgt den Zustand 
meines Vaters nahe. 
345 
In den spateren Kriegsjahren war es das Radio, das ihm die Ge-
schehnisse dieser damaligen schrecklichen Welt zuteilte. Wir hOrten 
die Nachricht iiber die Normandie-Landung zusammen in seiner 
Wohnung. 
Unsere Spaziergange, die dem Zauber ergeben waren, in der geo-
graphisch so weit entfemt liegenden Welt nahmen all die vielerlei-
femen und so nahen - Welten auf, ihre Schritte sind nicht erloschen, 
so daB K. W.s Geheimnis des Dichterischen auch das Geheimnis des 
so wirklich Menschlichen umhiillt. 
346 
