The turbulent life of an artist and a fascinating portrait of the period between the wars
Who doesn’t like Joachim Ringelnatz (1883–1934), the odd fellow and poet of outlandish rhymes? But Ringelnatz is much more than that. His life reflects the misery, as well as the splendor of Germany’s past. The son of middle-class parents, he drops out of secondary school after getting a tattoo, inspired by a Samoan woman he saw in an ethnological exhibition. As a sailor, he travels around the world. He learns about bohemian life in Munich and begins to write his first poems. And in the aftermath of World War I, Ringelnatz becomes a famous man. Dressed in a sailor suit, he sings and shouts and sometimes even smashes chairs in his wild stage shows. Through his erotic, critical, curious, but also melancholy poems, he achieves the same level of fame as the “Comedian Harmonists”.
When the Nazis come to power, Ringelnatz’ paintings are considered degenerate art. His books are burned and he is banned from performing. A friend gives him the opportunity to have a personal conversation with Hitler’s chief ideologist Alfred Rosenberg at the “Bar Peltzer” in order to salvage what he can. Ringelnatz goes reluctantly. Rosenberg has barely gotten out of his seat to greet Ringelnatz as he enters the room, when Ringelnatz, still on his feet, says, “No,” turns around and leaves.
Hilmar Klute traced this famous, yet little known writer through books, estates and archives – and delivers a superbly written book about him and his extraordinary life.
