Non-German Authors Bridge Cultures With Books in German

"My readers are not interested in where I come from. They like what I write. Period," said Vladimir Kaminer, who immigrated to Berlin from Russia 16 years ago and has since published numerous books in German.

Though many non-German writers may vehemently oppose the "immigrant literature" tag, cultural identity issues often pop up in their works. However, the "immigrant literature" category comes from the media, not from society, said Kaminer.

The annual Adelbert von Chamisso Prize, established in 1985, is one of many awards presented to authors whose first language is not German. Exactly which writers that applies to, however, is very flexible.

"In addition to literary quality, the change of language and culture that the author has experienced is important," said Klaus Hübner, one of the organizers of the prize.

Some authors were born in Germany but have a native language in addition to German, said Hübner, naming Hungarian-German author Zsuzsa Bank as an example. Others came to Germany, Austria or Switzerland with their parents at a young age and grew up bilingually, like Turkish-born Feridun Zaimoglu.

German for survival and communication

For Kaminer and other authors, learning to writing in German was the only possibility to communicate with the outside world.

"I didn't have any other choice. I always wanted to reach a wider audience. Writing in German was the only way to do that, since I live here," said Kaminer.

What Kaminer saw as a practical necessity was more of a linguistic necessity for Adel Karasholi from Syria.

"Early on I wrote poems in Arabic, but at some point the language seemed far away from my experiences," said the award-winning author, who came to Germany in 1961. "I realized that to reach those people I had to use the same words and associations they did."

Scratchy sounds and goose bump words

Many authors who have one foot in Germany and the other somewhere else incorporate themes into their works such as cultural identity, intercultural interactions and being different.

That's the case with Tereza Mora from Hungary, whose mother's family is German-speaking so she grew up bilingual. The protagonist in her novel "All the Days," for example, speaks 10 languages fluently but still lives at the edge of society, unable to truly communicate with anyone.

The formal and aesthetic influences of a second language are another important facet of literature by so-called non-native authors. For Yoko Tawada, who has lived in Germany for 24 years, linguistic differences take on physical traits in her book "The Stranger from the Can."

"Every foreign sound, every foreign glance, every foreign taste is uncomfortable on my body. The Ö-sounds dug themselves too deep into my ears and the R-sounds scratched my throat. There were expressions that gave me goose bumps," wrote Tawada.

While she associated language with the human body, the late cultural philosopher Vilem Flusser said that, like a new culture, "the new language gradually suppresses the native language as the structure for thought."

The inner book

Flusser, who died in 1991, described himself as a "Prague Jew." He was acquainted with many different cultures and spoke four languages: German, Czech, Portuguese and French. Being suspended over a complex of cultures can pull the rug out from under you, he once said.

Adel Karasholi responded to the challenge of a divided identity by making a switch from reading the "book of the world" to reading the "book within me."

"There's not just the perpetual struggle inside me between both poles but now there is also an embrace," said Karasholi.