100th anniversary of alumnus James Krüss: “He was always an islander”

„Kam jedoch aufs Festland dann

lernte fleißig Lehrersmann.“

From: Mein Lebens-ABC

1946 was a formative year for James Krüss: he published his first book, entitled “Der rote Faden” – and began his studies at the Teacher Training College in Lüneburg. At that time, the teacher training college was located in what is now the Hermann-Löns-Schule building in Grimm.

As is well known, James Krüss did not become a teacher: „Das bestandene Examen der Pädagogischen Hochschule zu Lüneburg habe ich nie in ein Monatsgehalt und eine Pensionsberechtigung umgemünzt“, he recalled with a wink.

Instead, he devoted himself entirely to writing. A constant source of inspiration: Heligoland. He was born on the offshore island in 1926. Even as a child, he began writing poetry and inventing stories. The red cliffs in the middle of the sea, the vastness, the wind offered plenty of scope for imagination, for the cheerful, the touching, the absurd – and the thought-provoking. With playful ease, James Krüss let words tumble, sentences skip and thoughts dance. His humour was subtle and never hurtful.

In 1949, Krüss moved to southern Germany and worked as a freelance writer for radio and magazines. There he met Erich Kästner, who recognised his talent and encouraged him to write children’s and young adult books. In 1953, James Krüss published his first picture book, and three years later the collection of stories Der Leuchtturm auf den Hummerklippen, which was nominated for the German Youth Literature Prize. Krüss finally received the award in 1960 for Mein Urgroßvater und ich – another story set on Heligoland.

In the 1960s, Krüss presented the television programme James’ Tierleben, among other things, and published works such as Henriette Bimmelbahn, wrote radio plays such as Den Sängerkrieg der Heidehasen, and the poetry collection Der wohltemperierte Leierkasten. In 1962, his most famous novel was published: Timm Thaler oder Das verkaufte Lachen.

“The story is a metaphor for the pact with the devil, which robs people of all joy. It denounces the loss of humanity in the capitalist economic miracle of Germany. At the same time, the pact with evil can be read as a reflection of the Nazi Germany in which James Krüss grew up. Yet Krüss was a master at telling serious stories in a way that touches children without overwhelming them,” explains Prof. Dr. Emer O’Sullivan, Professor Emerita of English Literature at Leuphana University Lüneburg.

Perhaps that is precisely why James Krüss would have made a good teacher. He himself saw things differently: “Ich will nicht lehren, sondern lernen (…) Auch fehlt mir jeglicher Sinn für Machtverhältnisse. Die hierarchische Ordnung der Schule ist mir ein Gräuel wie jede Hierarchie.”

When Krüss wrote about school, it therefore rarely became a place of strict order and discipline. Instead, his stories were populated by strange adults, absurd rules and wordplay-filled nonsense.

His scepticism towards social norms, however, was not based solely on literary reasons. He experienced first-hand just how exclusionary social order could be: in 1966, Krüss moved to Gran Canaria. In Germany at that time, Paragraph 175 was still in force, making male homosexuality a criminal offence. “In Spain he could live more freely – and in his heart he was always an islander,” says Emer O’Sullivan. Krüss lived there for more than 30 years with his partner Dario Perez. Following his death on 2 August 1997, James Krüss was buried at sea off Heligoland. The only place in the world to which he had ever dedicated an entire volume of poetry.

James Krüss received numerous awards for his extensive body of work, including the Hans Christian Andersen Award. The International Youth Library in Munich commemorates the author with a James Krüss Tower, whilst on Heligoland two historic lobster huts in the museum pay tribute to the island’s famous son.

Source of quotations: Herre, Bettina: James Krüss – Der Meister der Phantasie. Hamburg: Carlsen Verlag, 2001.