As well as explicitly thematising historiographical problems by means of
Michael the historian’s reflections on the construction of history, the novel also contains a variety of metafictional elements, both explicit in the text and
implied in the text’s structure, which thematise the problems of the narrative reconstruction of the past. The novel is Michael’s personal “history” of his relationship with Hanna, and towards the end of the book he comments explicitly and self-reflexively on the process of writing that history193:
“Seitdem hat sich unsere Geschichte in meinem Kopf viele Male geschrieben, immer wieder ein bißchen anders, immer wieder mit neuen Bildern, Handlungs- und Gedankenfetzen. So gibt es neben der Version, die ich geschrieben habe, viele andere. Die Gewähr dafür, daß die geschriebene die richtige ist, liegt darin, daß ich sie
geschrieben und die anderen Versionen nicht geschrieben habe. Die
193 Reynolds also notes the novel’s metafictional reflection on its own genesis:
geschriebene Version wollte geschrieben werden, die vielen anderen wollten es nicht.” (DV 205 – 206)194
Here, Michael very much reflects ideas about the construction of history as a narrative. His narrative about the past is one that has been constructed by him, the historian, from different “Bildern, Handlungs- und Gedankenfetzen”. The version of the past he has chosen to write down is one that has been selected by him via the inclusion of some events and the exclusion of others, but, as he himself acknowledges, it is not the only version of the past that could have been written. Moreover, his decisions in selecting some facts and omitting others have been motivated by the personal and present concern of dealing with and hopefully obtaining closure on his relationship with Hanna (DV 206). His reflections on this make his bias in constructing his narrative apparent. The idea that Michael’s narrative of his past with Hanna is the “right” version because it is the one that has been written down provides an even stronger parallel to White’s theories, in that it recognises that events in the past only become “historical facts” or “history” by means of their
narrativisation by historians (involving all of the elements of selection and bias to which Michael alludes). The fact that Michael’s historical narrative remains a Roman supplies a further allusion to White’s conception of history as being little more than fiction195.
194 Self-reflexive references to the process of writing and to the incorporation
of facts into a fictional narrative are something of a theme in Schlinks work, particularly via the “story a within a story” motif present in his novels, Das
Wochenende, Die Heimkehr, and Die Frau auf der Treppe: Schlink, Bernhard Die Heimkehr op cit starting at 61; Schlink, Bernhard Das Wochenende op cit
starting at 18; Schlink, Bernhard Die Frau auf der Treppe op cit starting at 177.
195 See the discussion of White’s theories in the Introduction to this thesis at
As well as referring self-reflexively to the process of its own genesis in the form of writing, Der Vorleser also makes metafictional reference to the process of reading196. The theme of reading running through the novel
explicitly underscores the novel’s historiographical critiques, which are also further implied by the way in which this theme works itself out in the novel’s structure. Michael is not only Hanna’s Vorleser, he is the reader’s Vorleser too197, and the conjunction of Michael’s role as both historian and reader further highlights the narrativity of his historical account. Reading in the novel is often viewed as an activity that is not positive, or even neutral, as when both Michael and Hanna use reading and literacy to block communication and the uncovering of the truth, and as a tool in their power play. The implication of the way in which reading is used here is that narratives can not only enlighten, but can also be used to block access to the truth. The same text can also be read in different ways, as the judge points out at Hanna’s trial when he comments: “Der Bericht lese sich anders” (DV 119), indicating that it is possible for different interpretations to arise from the same raw materials.
The theme of reading is, of course, highly self-reflexive, making the reader aware of his or her own activity in reading the book198. By drawing attention
to the activity of reading and making the reader aware of different purposes for which reading may be used, the novel creates a kind of
196 See also Metz, Joseph op cit at 313; Reynolds, Daniel op cit at 239.
Blasberg also considers the reading theme: Blasberg, Cornelia “Geschichte als Palimpsest: Schreiben und Lesen über die Kinder der Täter” Deutsche
Vierteljahresschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte 76.3
(2002): 464 - 495 at 493 – 494.
197 As Tebben points out, Michael ends up rejecting Hanna, but keeping his
role as Vorleser: Tebben, Karin op cit at 455.
198 Metz also notes the metafictionality of the reading theme in the novel: Metz,
Verfremdungseffekt which causes the reader to gain distance from the
narrative and question both Michael’s purpose in “reading” the text to the reader and the reader’s own role in interpreting the text in the act of reading. This is significant in the context of the way in which the structure of the novel also thematises historiographical critiques by implication. By creating a narrative history of his relationship with Hanna which is riddled with gaps, blanks, and uncertainties, Michael gives his readers the capacity to participate in the “creation” of the text by filling the gaps with their own imaginative
responses. The openness of the text, one of its many metafictional qualities, forces the reader into the role of the historian as outlined by Michael.
Confronted with both irreconcilable, conflicting accounts of past events and lacunae in the evidence, the reader is forced to fill in the gaps, thereby stitching together his or her own narrative about the past from the elements presented in the novel and the reader’s present-day influences and concerns. The way in which the structure of the novel casts the reader in the role of the historian forces the reader to become aware of the many pitfalls associated with the historiographic endeavour.
The fair chance that the type of historical approach in which the reader is engaged will be prone to mistakes about the past and therefore produce a mistaken or incomplete history is shown by analogy with two incidents in the novel in which a situation is “read” incorrectly because the “reader” was not provided with all of the relevant evidence. The first occurs when Michael reads Hanna’s sudden departure as being due to his failure to acknowledge her at the swimming pool, a false reading arising from the fact that, at this stage, Michael does not yet have any knowledge of Hanna’s illiteracy as a
motivating factor. Similarly, the court in Hanna’s trial reaches the wrong conclusion about her writing of the report because it, too, is unaware of her illiteracy. The centrality of Hanna’s illiteracy in both of these cases of misreading points to its use as a symbol of the inability to read a situation accurately when key elements of evidence are missing. These incidents heighten the reader’s awareness of the danger of producing a false narrative as a result of the absence of vital pieces of evidence, something which plagues history writing due to the lapse in time between the relevant events and the creation of the historical narrative.
The idea that the historian does not necessarily provide an accurate account of historical events and that the “objective truth” about the past cannot be ascertained is emphasised by Michael’s status as an unreliable narrator. Unreliable narration in the novel is a further indication of its metafictional character, in that it promotes a questioning of the narrative itself. At the same time, it also provides an additional illustration of the problems inherent in historiography, in that the narrator of past events may be unreliable for a whole host of reasons, such as selection, bias, and use of unreliable source material. As a second generation narrator, Michael’s narration of events which occurred prior to his birth or in his infancy and at which he was not present, such as the crimes of which Hanna is accused, is automatically suspect and involves mediation, supposition, and often imagination. Michael also reflects explicitly on his difficulties in constructing a reliable version of past events, even those forming part of his own eyewitness memory, and particularly highlights the problems for writing about the past posed by the
vagaries of the memory process199. Writing many years after the events in
question, Michael acknowledges the gaps and distortions of memory resulting from the distance in time between the events related and the narrative present. Throughout the text, Michael refers to the difficulty he has in remembering past events with accuracy, or in some cases, remembering what happened at all. This can be seen in the repetition of phrases such as “ich weiß nicht mehr” (DV 8; 58; 72; 86; 101; 189) and “ich erinnere mich nicht” (DV 13; 58; 78; 125). Michael also suspects that he is prone to invent details, as shown when he notes: “Das wußte ich damals nicht – wenn ich es denn jetzt weiß und mir
nicht nur zusammenreime” (DV 18). He also recognises that he is capable of
“imagining” a version of Hanna that suits him best (“war nicht die gewesen,
die ich in sie hineinphantasiert hatte” (DV 153)). He is aware of the selectivity
of his own memory process, as can be seen when he wonders whether his positive memories of his last years at school and first years at university are correct: “Ich habe die letzten Jahre auf der Schule und die ersten auf der
Universität als glückliche Jahre in Erinnerung . . . Ich frage mich auch, ob die glückliche Erinnerung überhaupt stimmt” (DV 84). In addition, he shows an
awareness that his memories are subject to alteration occasioned by subsequent events. He notes, for example, that his memories of the early stages of his relationship with Hanna were significantly affected by his
subsequent knowledge about her past: “Warum wird uns, was schön war, im
Rückblick dadurch brüchig, daß es häßliche Wahrheiten verbarg?” (DV 38).
Further on, Michael points to the way in which his own positive memories of
199 See also Herrmann, Meike Vergangenwart op cit at 116 – 117. Herrmann
thinks Michael’s narrative is too well organised to be a reflection of the memory process, but Morgenroth thinks it is a mimetic depiction of that process: Morgenroth, Claas op cit at 250.
Hanna from the first part of their relationship have been altered, not only by the subsequent events of the trial, but also by his mind’s application of Nazi cliches drawn from media and cultural memory to his own pre-existing memories of Hanna (DV 141 – 142). When considering how to describe the way Hanna looked at the beginning of their relationship, he reflects on this interference of subsequent images of Hanna with his ability to access his memories of her face at an earlier point in time. Past memories are overlaid with more recent ones, such that the original memories are distorted or can no longer be recovered. Instead, such “memories” must be reconstructed: “Über
ihr damaliges Gesicht haben sich in meiner Erinnerung ihre späteren Gesichter gelegt. Wenn ich sie vor meine Augen rufe, wie sie damals war, dann stellt sie sich ohne Gesicht ein. Ich muß es rekonstruieren” (DV 14).
These reflections on the problems of using memory as a source material directly call into question the ability of historical writing based on such sources to provide an accurate view of the past. They highlight the problem of
representing the past with any degree of certainty, even when relying on the testimony of an eyewitness, the authenticity of whose recollections often goes unquestioned.
The unreliability of Michael’s narrative is also emphasised by the other,
conflicting portrayals of Hanna which compete with Michael’s depiction for the reader’s attention. Just as Michael explicitly refers at the end of the novel to the “other versions” of his relationship with Hanna that he could have written, so too there are present throughout the novel “other versions” of Hanna, most notably those of the Jewish survivor and the prison governor which have already been discussed. In many ways, these accounts are polar opposites,
and both accounts mirror different aspects of Michael’s own conflicting feelings about Hanna. They also raise a number of issues in the context of the novel’s thematisation of historiographical problems. Firstly, they openly question the reliability of Michael’s narrative and his ability to present a complete or authentic picture of Hanna and her motivations. If two women who both knew Hanna personally provide such different characterisations, what chance does Michael’s portrayal have of being accurate? Their conflicting views point to the impossibility of ever obtaining a clear view of Hanna and her past. Secondly, the way in which the two portrayals mirror aspects of Michael’s own account underscores his tendency to vacillate between different conceptions of Hanna and to refuse to make a definitive statement, pointing again to his unreliability. Thirdly, by facing the reader with various conflicting accounts of Hanna, the novel highlights for the reader the position of the historian weighing up irreconcilable versions of past events. Along with Michael, the reader is put in the position of trying to synthesise these conflicting accounts into a cohesive narrative, which will often involve privileging one version over another or selecting elements from both so that some aspects of each version are left out.
The overwhelming impression left by these historiographical critiques is that a “true” or “objective” view of the past is impossible. Any attempt to provide an account of the past (or a “history”) will be confronted by inconsistent testimony and evidentiary gaps, and all such accounts will therefore be, to a certain extent, synthesised or created by the history writer. In writing such histories, the historian is swayed by his or her own personal prejudices, chooses some elements over others, and applies imagination to fill in gaps so as to produce
a cohesive narrative that says what the historian wants it to say. Even eyewitness accounts are subject to inaccuracy due to the failures and
vagaries of the memory process. Under these circumstances, the truth about the past must be considered irretrievable. This notion of the past as
inaccessible is symbolised right at the beginning of the novel by the image of Hanna’s house. Hanna’s house no longer exists at the time of the narrative present, having been demolished some years earlier and replaced with a new building (DV 8). It is therefore no longer physically accessible and no longer able to be seen. Michael often dreams of the house, and in his dreams he tries to open the door, but is always prevented from doing so by his
awakening (DV 10 – 11). The fact that waking up impedes his access to the house indicates that it is his present consciousness and perspective that prevents him from ever re-entering the past. Access to the past therefore remains impossible, rendering our accounts of it little more than a dream.
3.3 The effect of historiographic metafiction on the portrayal of Hanna