Erich Kästner 1899-1974
Gillian Lathey on the enduring appeal of the creator of Emil

Erich Kästner's Emil Tischbein was in many ways the Harry Potter of his day. Not only was the meteoric appearance of Emil and the Detectives on the rather staid British children's book scene of the 1930s immediately followed by a play (script by Cyrus Brooks, 1934) and a film (a 1935 remake directed by Milton Rosmer of Gerhard Lamprecht's marvellous German original), but Walter de la Mare was right to predict in his preface to the first British edition that there would 'soon be scores of Emils in England with their mouths wide open'. Young readers were desperate to obtain a copy, and the book enjoyed successive waves of popularity in the 1950s and 60s. Such was the freshness and difference of this novel with its inner city setting, resourceful children and heart-stopping tension that its influence as the ancestor of the gang story is evident in British children's literature from Cecil Day Lewis's The Otterbury Incident (1948) to the adventure stories of Enid Blyton.

So what is the lasting appeal of Kästner's writing for children? And how can a faith in children be reconciled with the nihilism of his adult novel Fabian? Kästner was not a political radical - he did not have sufficient faith in humanity for that - but he was a keen observer of human behaviour. He saw in children an honesty and directness replaced in most adults by layers of self-seeking civility. In a memorable address to schoolchildren, Kästner asserted that most people discard their childhoods just as they would an old hat, but only those who remain children at heart are truly human. He gained the respect of young readers by addressing them as equals, while at the same time turning his consummate use of the German language to the debunking of their elders. During the Weimar Republic and in the post-war years, Kästner exposed in his journalism, poetry and cabaret sketches the hypocrisy of his times. Although he chose the path of 'inner emigration' during the Third Reich, Kästner's biting poetry led to two interviews with the Gestapo, a publication ban, and the burning of his adult literature in 1933 by Goebbels - an event which Kästner witnessed (as far as I am aware he was the only writer to risk that privilege). Yet even the NSDAP did not dare to touch Kästner's most popular book: orders to remove his work from library shelves carried the proviso 'everything except Emil'.

The enduring figure of Emil stems from Kästner's own childhood management of uneasy family relationships. Because he accepted emotional responsibility at a very young age, Kästner never underestimated children. In his children's novels he speaks conspiratorially to his audience, acknowledging children's benevolent acceptance of adult folly. Kästner advises readers of Das doppelte Lottchen (1949), a pioneering tale of parental separation, not to react to adult concern at the appearance of this subject in a children's book. After all, he tells them, child star Shirley Temple was too young to be admitted to a cinema where one of her own films was showing. Although Kästner's authorial asides may occasionally seem intrusive, his desire for a dialogue with his child reader suggests that, like many of the best writers for children, he felt at ease in their company. Equally important is the clarity and directness of his writing. Kästner's children's stories are characterised by a flowing narrative line; he combines a poet's respect for the rhythm and weight of each word with the simplicity and impact of his work as a journalist.

Two years after the centenary of Kästner's birth in 1899, the time is right for a reappraisal: I believe that Kästner's best writing is to be found in his children's books and in the telling understatements of his satirical poetry and cabaret songs - and that both should enjoy equal status. A new translation of Emil and the Detectives is long overdue. A reinstatement of Kästner's introduction, 'Die Geschichte fängt noch gar nicht an', and a retranslation of passages of dialogue can only convey a more accurate sense of Kästner's playful narrative strategy, and of the lower middle class milieu ignored by British imitators. The introduction to Emil, in addition to a cinematic presentation of principal characters and settings in Walter Trier's expressive line drawings, answers the question children always ask of authors when they get the chance - 'where do you get your ideas?' With typical appreciation of what will amuse and interest a child, Kästner describes lying on the floor desperately seeking inspiration for a book set in the South Seas (later to become the 35th of May), then the sudden focusing of his eyes on the table-legs. So the name Tischbein, and the boy Emil, were born. As for passages of dialogue between Emil and his Berlin friends, the stylised Berlin slang of the original has been transposed in both British translations into an entirely inappropriate register. Exchanges are peppered with 'frightfully', 'tophole' and the like: 'Mensch, ich freu mich noch halb dämlich', for example, becomes 'Gosh, I'm looking forward to this'.

Would a new translation of Emil appeal to today's children? I can only say that the suspense and humour of the novel captivated the many Islington infant school children to whom I read it in the 1970s and 1980s. Only Fabian, Emil and the Detectives , Emil and the Three Twins, The Flying Classroom and Little Man are currently in print in this country; Kästner's poetry, Lottie and Lisa(out of print despite remakes of The Parent Trap) and When I Was a Little Boy, a delightful autobiography for children, are the greatest losses. But at least Emil survives in England - in more ways than one. Each year in a London art bookshop a small bronze figure of Emil, based on Walter Trier's touching portrait, is presented to the winners of the Kurt Maschler Award. The Award, established by the publisher who did more than anyone to ensure that Kästner's work outlived years of suppression, goes to an artist and a writer who display the intuitive mutual understanding that makes the butter yellow cover of the German Emil and the Detectives so unforgettable. The partnership of Kästner and Trier, like those of Shepard and Milne or Tenniel and Carroll, was made in heaven. For that reason alone British readers deserve a Kästner revival.

Editions of Kästner's work currently available from British publishers:
1989 Fabian: The Story of a Moralist, Tr. Cyrus Brooks, London: Libris
1994 The Little Man, Tr. James Kirkup, illus. Horst Lemke, London: Red Fox
1994 Emil and the Three Twins Tr. Cyrus Brooks, illus. Walter Trier, London: Red Fox
1995 Emil and the Detectives Tr. Eileen Hall, illus. Walter Trier, London: Red Fox
1995 The Flying Classroom Tr. Cyrus Brooks, illus. Walter Trier, London: Red Fox



Dr. Gillian Lathey is Deputy Director of the National Centre for Research in Children's Literature and Administrator of the Marsh Award for Children's Literature in Translation.