A little more on Stolpersteine

The February 16, 2015 issue of The New Yorker magazine includes a Letter from Berlin by Elizabeth Kolbert titled "The Last Trial: A great-grandmother, Auschwitz, and the arc of justice." She tells the story of a German man tried as an elderly person for his role in processing the money assets taken from prisoners at Auschwitz. One of those prisoners destined for extermination was Kolbert's great-grandmother.

The article blends the history of justice finding or not finding Nazi perpetrators with details of her family story. One of those details is the placement of a Stolperstein on the street where Kolbert's great-grandmother last lived in Berlin. Readers may recall my post about Stolpersteine in December 2014. Kolbert attended the placement and spent time with Gunter Demnig, the artist. I do recommend reading the article.

Recently in Karlsruhe, I made a photograph of a particularly thought-provoking installation of Stolpersteine. The plaque at the top states these men were all members of the state legislature in Baden. In other words, they were elected by their fellow citizens to serve in the government. Some died in concentration camps. Other causes of death: by execution, during interrogation, in prison, in exile, from the effects of imprisonment.

It's a glittering patch of sidewalk next to what's now the city library. The location once housed the former state government of Baden* in the Ständehaus.

Stolpersteine for eight members of the Baden state legislature
who died under Nazi oppression
Ständehausstr. 2, Karlsruhe

*After World War II, Baden and other localities went through numerous phases under the occupying Allied forces. In 1952, the current state of Baden-Würrttemberg was formed, and state government moved to Stuttgart. As I have mentioned before, a healthy tension remains between the Badisch and the Schwäbisch.

A peculiar library

I returned last week to a library I had used once or twice in the early-mid 1990s as a resident of Karlsruhe: the Badische Landesbibliothek. It's the state library of Baden, the western half of Baden-Württemberg (I posted in May about another trip to Karlsruhe). I am researching a German painter, Karl Hofer, who was born and raised in Karlsruhe. My internet search on his name yielded 38 titles in the library's holdings. (I'm working on a novel for NaNoWriMo this month: 25,146 words as of today, headed for 50,000 by November 30th. The painter is involved.)

I asked the young woman at the information desk about the logistics of locating books. She said books newer than 1990 would be physically present. Older books are in off-site storage and must be requested by 4:00pm on the previous day for a user to collect the following day. Still others are in rare-book archives only accessible with a library card.

A few titles on my list were published after 1990, and she invited me to go into the stacks to have a look, no library card required. Remembering that this library had a peculiar cataloguing system, I asked, "Aren't the books here shelved in an unusual way--by acquisition date or something?" She confirmed. Just follow the schematic on each floor to locate the shelf that corresponds with the book's call number in the online catalogue. (Hint: do not expect obvious logic in the layout.)

Shelf A: An out of focus photo gives an idea of the vertigo you can feel

Development of Achievement Motivation * The Modern Short Story
Teaching in Japan * Evil in Modern Thought * America's God 
The Blood and the Shroud * Holy Rollers

Behavioral and Mental Health Drugs * I.V. Drugs 
Nurse's Drug Handbook 2003

Oh, dear. I remember now. In the 1990s, mildly culture-shocked and moderately depressed, I explored this library. Perhaps I wanted a book on textile art. Or something on language. Accustomed to the convenience and inspiration of browsing by topic in systems like Dewey decimal, I was dismayed to find random strings of titles on every shelf I passed. A book on bicycle repair sat right next to my textile book, and suddenly I had a wave of guilt about not taking better care of my bike. A book on teaching English next to a book about the Reagan presidency. The books and their languages were as mixed as individuals on a bus. One by one, as acquired, and seemingly with no other thought than perhaps about the height of the books, they got their numbers and their slots on the shelves.

Exhibit B: (mostly) English books (titles run down the spine from the top)

It's like the Sorted Books project by Nina Katchadourian, only so much less appealing. If you've never seen her book spine texts, take a look.

Exhibit C: German books (the title marches up the spine)

This shelf shows books published in German. Even the travel guide "New York" is a German publication, as evidenced by the type running up the spine from the bottom to the top. Amusingly, right next to it is "Das heimatlose ich" (The I without a home).

Why do German titles tend to run in this direction? To me it makes no sense: the "Anglo" way keeps the title right side up when the book is flat on a table, cover side up. There is even an ISO norm that specifies the "Anglo" way (ISO 6357). Yet publishers here seem to prefer the other, for design reasons or maybe old habit. I attempt to understand this notion, looking at these shelves. Perhaps there's a preference for grounding the titles along the sharp line of the shelf instead of letting them hang like so many awkward icicles from above.

Exhibit D: For a German library, there are a lot of English titles

Moderne Medizin - Chance und Bedrohung * Kopfüber am Himmel * Living Silence

The Death Penalty * Oxygen - The Molecule that made the world

Sicily Before History * Culture & Pedagogy

From Gutenberg to the Global Information Structure * Becoming Mona Lisa

Transitions in American Education * Castles in Medieval Society * By the Sword

An incredibly strange way to experience books. Hang on to your sense of reality.

Lunch on my own in Karlsruhe (flash post)

I found a hip/mellow café called Feinraum tucked in one of the streets that fans out and away from the main shopping street in downtown Karlsruhe. The city is called the Fächerstadt (fan city) because of its formal 18th century design, which fans the city out from the castle at its center (think yellow-walled palace, not stone fortress). The structure creates unusual angles throughout the city center and can be pretty confusing if you're not used to it.

We used to live here, Markus and I, from 1992-1995, our first three years married. He worked after his MBA as marketing manager at a printing company (mostly old style phone books and packaging for pharmaceuticals). I taught Business English seminars all around Baden-Württemberg through a company based in Stuttgart.

I think most people have heard of Stuttgart (Mercedes, Porsche...). It's the state capital. Karlsruhe was the capital of Baden before the two states were merged, and it remains perhaps the one that got passed over. Württembergers and Badeners couldn't be more different from each other (according to themselves). Once back in the 1990s a client at a bank asked me for the truth--did I get along better with the people like herself from Baden than with those Swabians (the Württembergers)? Just a little unkindly, I told her that if I ever have any trouble, it's because all of them are German! (We changed subject.)

These days, the main reason you hear about Karlsruhe on the news is that the high courts are here, including the Verfassungsgericht (constitutional court), which is like the U.S. Supreme Court.

I'm here today because I came to see my hairstylist--yep, from 20 years ago. Across the street from the café I see an emptied out store. The worn decor features the faded blues, greens, reds and yellows of the toy store I remember being there. I bought some of my favorite kids' cassette tapes there on a visit around 2000. But that's the least of it. The whole town is fabulously torn up for projects involving tunnels and train tracks and who knows what. Every time we come, the place is different and we get lost (Miriam comes regularly, also on her own, to shop at Primark--something they don't have over in Stuttgart...). Today I came by S-Bahn (a region-connecting streetcar). It's a 90-minute trip from downtown Heilbronn, and it's time to start my trip back.

[What's a flash post? It's me writing fast, maybe on my iPad, inspired by something in the moment. No fussing.]