The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum Die Verlorene Ehre Der Katharina Blum 9781839024405 9781839024375 - Compress
The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum Die Verlorene Ehre Der Katharina Blum 9781839024405 9781839024375 - Compress
Acknowledgments
reporter four days after spending the night with a young man she
meets at a carnival party who turns out to be wanted by the police
for armed robbery and murder. The police suspect that he is part
of a gang, possibly of ‘anarchists’ or ‘conscientious objectors’, but
the truth is – while he is indeed armed – he is a lone wolf, neither
politically motivated nor part of any group. He has deserted from
the army with a cash box containing a large sum of money. In
the novel, he also stole a gun and hopes to flee the country. When
The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum was shown in West German
cinemas, leading members of the Red Army Faction (RAF), or
Baader–Meinhof Group, were facing trial. Members of the public
who expressed understanding for their motives or criticised the
response of the state and sections of the media, as Böll had done,
faced vilification. The popular press owned by the Springer Media
Corporation tarred all radicals with the ‘terrorist’ brush; intellectuals
who disagreed were ‘sympathisers’. Katharina Blum’s subject could
not have been more topical and contemporary reactions to it in West
Germany were duly polarised, just as the question of how to respond
to self-styled left-wing revolutionaries who emerged from the protest
movements in the late 1960s split the country.
Over the course of five days of carnival in February 1975,
Blum’s reputation is shredded in a tabloid called simply Die
Zeitung or ‘The Newspaper’ – ‘The News’ in the published English
translation. Its reporter exchanges confidential information with the
police, while his boss ensures that the name of a local bigwig, who
has pursued Blum to be his mistress, is kept out of the headlines.
Böll’s novel carried a sub-title dropped by the filmmakers but which
applies equally to their film, How Violence Develops and Where It
Can Lead. Readers and filmgoers alike were invited to conclude that
the state and the press provoked a violent response from a hitherto
law-abiding citizen. The novel begins with a programmatic statement
which parodies disclaimers placed at the start of topical fiction, a
version of which is typed over the last image in the film before a fade
to black (there are no final credits). Böll insisted that title, sub-title
and statement were integral: ‘The characters and plot in this story
are entirely fictional. Should there be similarities between the
description of certain journalistic practices and the practices of
the Bild-Zeitung, then these similarities are neither intended nor
accidental, but rather unavoidable.’
The film-makers left out mentioning Bild by name fearing that
Springer could sue.4 The statement underlined to readers that they
were reading a literary pamphlet in the guise of a fiction. The various
‘speaking names’ bolstered this impression: Werner Tötges for the
reporter and principal villain contains töten (to kill); Beizmenne for
the Chief Inspector has beizen meaning to stain but also to bait in
the context of hunting, making him a ‘hunter of men’; Blum’s lover
Ludwig Götten meanwhile suggests Götter (gods) or göttlich (divine),
which is how he appears to Blum at their chance meeting. Derived
from the Greek, the name Katharina in Catholic terminology denotes
the ‘pure woman’. Blum is a common surname in the Cologne area
where the film is set, its most famous bearer the campaigner for liberty
Robert Blum (1807–48), who was executed in Vienna for his reformist
advocacy and is still commemorated in his native city. Katharina Blum
was thus a name with a theological and political pedigree.
A statement of this sort was not a wholly original idea in
recent European cinema. In Z (1969, dir. Costa-Gavras), made in
French but set in Greece prior to the military coup d’état of 1967, a
similar notice is posted on screen in sequential chunks of text while
the opening credits are rolling and the action of the film has already
begun: ‘Any similarity to real events, to personas living or dead, is not
coincidental. It is INTENTIONAL.’5 The similarity with the ending
of Katharina Blum is too striking to be a coincidence: even if Böll was
unaware of the connection, von Trotta and Schlöndorff knew Costa-
Gavras. A number of US reviewers compared their film of Katharina
Blum with Z.6 Both are political thrillers about individuals concerned
with the truth battling powerful adversaries who manipulate the
facts. Greek politics had remained topical: the cover story of the
edition of Der Spiegel which began the serialisation of Böll’s novel
on 29 July 1974 was on the end of the military junta which had ruled
Greece for seven years starting in 1967.7 Von Trotta and Schlöndorff
were indirectly comparing the political chaos in Greece a decade ago
with that of West Germany under its Social Democrat Chancellor
Willy Brandt, a former anti-Nazi resister. The national situations of
Greece and West Germany differed but the disrespect for truth drew
them together against a background of Cold War tensions. In an
attempt to forestall criticism that he was soft on communism as he
forged new relationships with Eastern bloc states, Brandt introduced
the notorious ‘Radicals Decree’ restricting access to state employment
to left-wing critics of the state.
Premiered on 17 September 1975 at the San Sebastian
Film Festival in Spain’s Basque Country in the dying months of
Franco’s dictatorship, where it won a Film Critics’ Prize awarded
by the Circulo de Escritores Cinematográficos, and screened at
the New York Film Festival the following month, Katharina Blum
was released in West German cinemas on 10 October 1975. It
won Lolas for Angela Winkler in the title role and its director of
cinematography, Jost Vacano.8 Winkler also won the German Critics’
Prize. Despite limited cinematic release, it was welcomed in the
US, in particular by remnants of the counterculture; in 1984 CBS
commissioned a remake entitled The Lost Honor of Kathryn Beck
(dir. Simon Langton), transposing the action from the Rhineland
to the Midwest, with Kris Kristofferson as the heroine’s fugitive
lover. Vacano, who was responsible for its alienating neon-lit look
and modernist imagery, went on to work on Das Boot (1981, dir.
Wolfgang Petersen), set in the confined space of a submarine, and on
dystopian blockbusters such as Robocop (1987) and Total Recall
(1990) directed by Paul Verhoeven. With composer Hans Werner
Henze, Vacano ensured the film’s discordant, frequently uncanny
atmosphere which stands in counterpoint to the more conventional
plotline and fast-paced action. Cinemagoers’ most recent exposure
to Henze was The Exorcist (1973, dir. William Friedkin) where
a segment from his Fantasia for Strings, originally composed for
Katharina Blum
(Angela Winkler)
Adorf) takes out his frustration on Blum. Using the familiar ‘du’
form of address, he enquires in front of his colleagues: ‘Did he fuck
you, then?’ Meeting his gaze as the camera holds her expression in
the first of a series of facial close-ups which punctuate the film, she
characteristically replies: ‘I wouldn’t call it that.’ The verbal exchange
is transferred directly from Böll’s novel and sets the parameters for
Blum’s ordeal. Blum shows that she is not easily intimidated and
that she has her own distinct set of values. She had straightaway
used ‘du’ to Götten the previous evening, the first time that she can
remember wanting to talk in a familiar way with a man. The police
conclude (rightly) that she helped Götten get out of the building and
that she knows where he has gone, which makes her an accomplice
to crime, though their suspicion that the couple knew each other
‘Communist bitch’
know each other better by going to bed together, Blum shoots him.
The film ends with Tötges’ funeral and a highly stylised oration given
by his boss on the sanctity of press freedom in a democracy.
Katharina Blum made Winkler a star and helped New German
Cinema gain the recognition inside West Germany which it already
enjoyed among art-house audiences abroad. In Schlöndorff’s next
film, his adaptation of Günter Grass’s The Tin Drum (1979), Winkler
and Adorf played the parents of Oskar Matzerath, the grotesque
main character who stops growing on his third birthday. Heinz
Bennent, who plays Herbert Blorna, also took a minor role, while
his son David Bennent played Oskar. Schlöndorff recalls associating
Adorf with ‘Papas Kino’, so called because it was aesthetically
conventional and politically conservative and which the Young
German Film-makers set out to replace in the early 1960s.11 Winkler
and Heinz Bennent would also go on to work with von Trotta,
appearing respectively in Sheer Madness (1983) and Sisters, or the
Balance of Happiness (1979). In Katharina Blum only Hannelore
Hoger (Trude Blorna) had prior experience of New German
Cinema, having worked with the director Alexander Kluge. Several
others were stage actors, Winkler having worked at Peter Stein’s
Schaubühne in West Berlin, a crucible of new theatre in the 1970s.
Schlöndorff had seen Dieter Laser in Munich productions of Harold
Pinter. Winkler’s only previous film role was as the ‘village whore’
Angela Winkler
as Hannelore in
Hunting Scenes
from Bavaria (1968,
dir. Peter Fleischmann)
I don’t know whether it’s because he has a collaborator, but nothing else
in the career of the young West German film-maker Volker Schlöndorff has
seemed as good as The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum, which he wrote and
directed together with his wife, Margarethe von Trotta.15
Anita Pallenberg,
with gun and in
white bathrobe, in
Degree of Murder (1967,
dir. Schlöndorff)
her, demanding sex for one last time. Though the killing is not
premeditated, there are further similarities with Katharina Blum: he
demands entry, shouting and banging on her front door, and she dons
a white bathrobe to let him in, which she is still wearing at the time
of the shooting. Katharina Blum was by no means Schlöndorff’s first
female character to pull a trigger, but they gained in resilience after he
started working with von Trotta. She herself played some of them, as
she was originally set to play Blum.
The pair initially teamed up for his adaptation of Bertolt
Brecht’s experimental first play, Baal (1969), about a self-destructive,
misogynist poet played in the film by Fassbinder. Von Trotta co-wrote
the screenplay for the historical drama The Sudden Wealth of the
Poor People of Kombach (1971) and assisted with the direction
of The Morals of Ruth Halbfass, taking minor roles in both films,
each of which entails picking up a gun in a key scene. She then
both starred in and co-wrote A Free Woman (1972), for which she
Winkler as Ruth,
pointing a gun at
her coercive husband
in Sheer Madness
(1983, dir. von Trotta)
the eponymous heroine is obliged to marry the officer who rapes her,
having suppressed the memory of their first encounter on the grounds
that he initially appeared to her as a rescuing angel.23
Katharina Blum was quite emphatically an intervention in the
stand-off between radicals and the establishment. Böll, who won
the Nobel Prize for Literature in October 1972, found himself from
January that year at the heart of a vituperative argument over how
to respond to the actions of the RAF. In a much-cited article printed
in Der Spiegel, Böll called them ‘the six against the six million’ and
the reporting of the mass-circulation Bild-Zeitung, Springer’s flagship
daily newspaper, ‘incitement, lies, filth’ and ‘naked fascism’ on
account of its sensationalised stories, unsubstantiated allegations and
campaigns against individuals. The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum
was a contribution to his feud with Springer, the German police and
the wider West German state. Dirt and washing are recurrent motifs
in the film, which includes several scenes in wash- or bathrooms and
where dirt is associated either with the Zeitung or with the forces of
law and order.
The novel was serialised in four instalments in July and
August 1974 in Der Spiegel and instantly became a bestseller. Böll
himself wanted a film adaptation and sent the proofs to von Trotta
and Schlöndorff in advance of publication with the proposal that
they take it on. The often sardonic narrator of Böll’s novel refers
to the cinematic qualities of the story which he tasks himself with
reconstructing. Von Trotta and Schlöndorff had earlier acquired the
rights to the more capacious Group Portrait with a Lady (1971)
but had not secured the funding to make a film which needed to be
set over four decades rather than five days. Schlöndorff recalls that
Böll was thought not to be worth the risk by film funders.24 Yet
he was already the most filmed contemporary German-language
author. Adaptations to date were low budget, made for television
or disorientatingly avant-garde. Böll worked on the script for the
succès d’estime The Bread of Those Early Years (1962, Herbert
Vesely), as he did on The Clown (1976, dir. Vojtěch Jasný). This
Von Trotta as
Sophie von Reval in
Coup de grâce (1976,
dir. Schlöndorff)
Michael Kohlhaas –
The Rebel aka Man on
Horseback (1969, dir.
Schlöndorff)
Marian Seidowsky as
Basini in Young Törless
(1966, dir. Schlöndorff)
The general climate was so conducive to a lynching that Böll took the
responsibility of speaking to the German public and saying to them: don’t
believe what you read in these demagogic papers. If ever you see any of these
people, don’t kill them, and that brought him an avalanche of insults and
defamation in the press.32
the run. On 1 June 1972 the police surrounded his house in the Eifel
Mountains, demanding that two of his visitors prove their identity.
The country villa belonging to Sträubleder where Götten is arrested
is a reference to this incident. In other attacks his successful sales in
the USSR were used against him. Katharina Blum was a reaction to
this treatment.
Yet he did not write his novel for another two years and it
took a more personal incident to prompt him to do so. In February
1974, the month in which his Katharina Blum is set, Böll’s eldest
son, Raimund, a 27-year-old sculptor (the same age as Blum), was
interrogated by police and his Cologne flat searched after his and
his partner’s passports were found in a property used by Baader–
Meinhof members. The link was a young woman called Margrit
Schiller, recently released from prison, who had indeed stayed in their
flat during their absence, but they had not noticed her theft of their
passports. The incident shows how militants wanted for terrorism
indeed circulated among bohemian and left-wing young people.
Bild set out to smear Raimund Böll, printing a story about his poor
performance in school and mocking his abilities as an artist. On 7
February 1974, the Springer-owned Berliner Zeitung announced
on its front page that the search of his and his girlfriend Lila’s
rented flat had taken place already (the raid actually happened the
following afternoon), evidently misunderstanding the tip-off given
by the police. The mess-up showed just how closely police and press
worked together. Böll had already expressed concern for Raimund to
his Soviet friend Lew Kopelew (1912–97), in the context of his own
actions against Springer. He explained that Raimund’s movements
were restricted and he had been threatened; by September 1972 he
was worried about his son’s health.35
February 1974 was an eventful month for the Böll family.
Alexander Solzhenitsyn (1918–2008), a fellow Nobel Laureate,
spent several days at Böll’s house in the Eifel Mountains after being
stripped of his Soviet citizenship and flown to West Germany at
the invitation of Chancellor Brandt. The surprise visit caught the
attention of the world’s media and was one reason that Böll later
gave for writing Katharina Blum. One of the criticisms levelled at
him was that he was soft on communism and yet here was the USSR’s
number one dissident showing solidarity with him. On 15 May 1974
Böll reported to Kopelew:
Two days before A.S. got here, house search for Raimund and Lila, with a few
dozen police officers, dogs, state prosecutors, because Rai and Lila’s identity
papers had been found in a B-M-flat. 160 newspapers printed their photos,
nasty articles but no corrections once after eight hours of questioning the
whole thing turned out to be harmless! […]
Then, ‘on the side’, I am also writing a book – a taut, tightly constructed
narrative, which I like very much myself – and which is now going into press.
Meanwhile Brandt’s resignation and the preliminaries to that – as well as the
knock-on effects.36
the public co-operated with the police, who made a series of arrests
after tip-offs. The first and most spectacular, which von Trotta and
Schlöndorff reference in their film, was of Baader, Meins and Jan-Carl
Raspe after they found themselves surrounded inside a garage in the
Frankfurt suburbs on the afternoon of 1 June 1972, the same day
as the raid on Böll’s own house. The police approached the garage
in an armoured vehicle, similar to that shown in the film; Baader
expertly deflated each of its tyres with a well-aimed bullet, earning
the admiration of the police. The men were soon arrested, Baader
on a stretcher after he was wounded by a police bullet, Meins in his
underpants uttering a protracted scream. The event was broadcast on
the evening news, the photographs printed on the front pages of the
following day’s newspapers. Katharina Blum was part of a contest
for the ownership and interpretation of these images. Over the next
three years, as preparations were made for their trial, there ensued
another battle for public opinion, with the arrested terrorists aiming
to portray themselves as victims of an authoritarian state which
subjected them to inhumane conditions, including long periods of
solitary confinement. Meinhof published a famous description of the
effect of being locked in a cell by herself for months on end.38 Again,
the film references this controversy in its depiction of the inside of a
police cell where Blum spends a protracted lunch hour after refusing
to share food with her interrogators. By the end of the film, Blum and
Götten are under arrest and facing long jail sentences.
design of the first US edition, which preceded the film, has been said
to emphasise ‘the sexual aspect of the book’ and project Blum as
a femme fatale surrounded only by male characters.43 This is not
how Böll portrays Blum, but rather how she is objectified by the
Zeitung and her interrogators and assumed to be by her neighbours
once she is arrested. In other words, it is a highly constructed
and hostile image. Illustrations for film posters and book covers
in other European countries traded on either the vulnerability or
dangerousness of an attractive young woman (usually with brown
hair but sometimes blonde). They depicted Blum either with raised
manacled hands and a look of defiance or on the point of being
crushed by a giant hand; in a sexual pose with a gun tucked into the
back of her knickers or talking sweetly on a telephone; or a mixture
of all of these at the centre of a surrealist collage.
The iconography of Katharina Blum began with the
illustrations by the young ‘critical realist’ artist Klaus Vogelgesang
which accompanied the serialisation in Der Spiegel and are reprinted
in this book for the first time. Vogelgesang’s Blum, who appears three
times in the seven pictures, is quite desexualised. In the first picture,
her mouth is shut and expression slightly glazed, her gun pointing
downwards in a reluctant grip. In the third, her face is reproduced
on the first page of a newspaper, and in the sixth we see only half
her face, her hand once again holding a gun but now with greater
resolution. As on the US cover, she is the only female character to
be depicted; in the first picture she is flanked by two men in fancy
dress, one wearing an indeterminate oriental garment and turban. His
mouth is open, apparently expressing an excited sound as if letting
loose the spirit of carnival. He appears again in the fifth picture,
but this time in triplicate to indicate how closely the forces ranged
against Blum are working with each other. In the centre he wears a
meditative expression, his hands cupped over his chin, to the left as
police officer and to the right as judge. By now the carnival has got
serious and the forces of the law, in their equally bizarre professional
get-ups, are indisputably part of the grotesque performance. In the
It is mercy that I am pleading for. I do not dare to make use of my claim for
justice, assuming that I may have one. – But I may remind my judge of one
thing. My crimes date from the judgement that once and for all deprived me
of my honour. If I had been shown more understanding at that point, it is
possible that I would have no need of mercy now.
Heinz Bennent as
Blum’s employer
and admirer
Herbert Blorna
Hannelore Hoger as Trude Blorna and Herbert Fux as the Austrian Bild reporter
who shares initials with Heinrich Böll, is a decent man who pays a
price for letting himself be led by his emotions. He loses his livelihood
after defying the police, the Zeitung and Sträubleder; Trude Blorna
loses her job at a firm of architects because she had shown Blum the
plans for the tower block, which knowledge she passed on to Götten
so that he could escape through a ventilation shaft. Trude Blorna too
is traduced by the Zeitung as ‘Red Trude’, though this is a sobriquet
she acquired as a student on account of her hair colour. The novel’s
subsidiary scandal is Sträubleder’s successful extrication of himself
from any association with Blum and Götten. He not only avoids
questioning by the police, he also keeps his name out of the Zeitung,
which was initially obsessed with the identity of the ‘gentleman
visitor’. It is no coincidence that the Zeitung targets the story’s
three principal women: Blum, Else Woltersheim and Trude Blorna.
Meanwhile Konrad Beiters, whose old Wehrmacht revolver Blum
uses to shoot Tötges, muses that they spared him because he was ‘an
old Nazi’. In the film Beiters is shown smoking a pipe, which in Böll’s
fiction was a sign of a morally ambiguous character. The Blornas, in
contrast, are like Böll both cigarette smokers, signalling their probity
and good faith.
Böll’s literary version of Katharina Blum is distinguished both
by the voice of its anonymous narrator and how that voice pieces
together his story. The story is the same as in the film but the ways
in which it is told are fundamentally different. Russian Formalists
coined the terms fabula, referring to the story or plot, and syuzhet,
meaning the ways that the story is narrated to ‘defamiliarise’ the
events by making them seem new or ‘strange’. The distinction is
useful in the context of distinguishing between a film adaptation and
its literary source because whereas fabula is the same each time, the
syuzhet differs in subtle ways. In a literary narrative there can be
more room for doubt. The question ‘Did he fuck you, then?’ is said
by Böll’s narrator to have been put by either Beizmenne or Hach,
but there is also doubt over whether the question was put at all.
The narrator stops and starts and repeatedly goes back on himself
while still leaving some gaps. He quotes extensively from his source
documents and deploys a confusing metaphor about puddles and
channels of water, with each story flowing into the other, all of
which makes Katharina Blum at times a not altogether easy read.
The narrator’s flashes of ironic humour and wry understatement
are offset by an often technocratic punctiliousness, as he insists that
he is working from interviews and sources, some of which have to
remain confidential. He occasionally enjoys making witnesses sound
foolish or laughs at them when they condemn themselves out of
their own mouths, as Blum’s neighbour does when he points out that
he can say nothing about the gentlemen visitors received by Blum
when he was not in the house to witness them. He gets hung up on
linguistic definitions, which is an indication of his precision and a
trait he shares with Blum herself, and shows a respect for official
documentation, which has led some critics to argue that he is part
of the problem which Böll is addressing.44 He betrays nothing at all
about himself (assuming that he is male) and the conditions in which
he carries out his work and writes up his report. As the novel is set
over five days in February 1974 and was published at the end of
July that same year, the literary conceit is that it was researched and
written in that five-month period. Böll honed the narrative technique
in End of a Mission (1966) and Group Portrait with a Lady, which
are pieced together by anonymous narrators as if they are making
documentaries, a style of literature in vogue in the late 1960s
when fiction could be associated with the bourgeois imagination
and literature itself was declared ‘dead’. The documentary theatre
movement centred around playwrights such as Rolf Hochhuth, Peter
Weiss and Reinhardt Kipphardt attempted to mimic journalism
in similarly experimental ways to Böll’s reportage style. What
distinguishes the anonymous narrator from his predecessors in Böll’s
oeuvre is his humour and gradual shift from impartiality to support
for the criminal. There is by the end little to distinguish the narrator
from the author. The reliance on voice posed a specific problem to the
film-makers as it is one literary device which cannot be transferred
very easily to the screen. Von Trotta and Schlöndorff wisely dispense
with it altogether.
a film. The first intercuts with the film’s opening; the second captures
the lovers returning to the apartment block, hand in hand, embracing
in the foyer before taking the lift. The police cameraman has got
there first after Sheikh Karl has given Beizmenne Blum’s name. The
car chase is also reprised in black and white as it too was caught
on film by the police cameraman. In addition we see newspaper
headlines and hear the commentary of a television journalist on
Friday afternoon. Taken together with the still photographs of Blum,
such as those exchanged between Beizmenne and Tötges, and the
images of her reproduced in the media, the police footage has been
George Tooker, The Subway (1950). Egg Tempera on compositional board. 18 1/2 x 36 1/2
inches (© Estate of George Tooker. Courtesy of DC Moore Gallery, New York)
Inspector Beizmenne
(Mario Adorf)
now at the other side of the room. He asks why she decided not to
drive to the party the previous evening, as his face and the back of her
head are once again directed at the camera. Hach then takes over the
questioning and shows an interest once again in her sexual behaviour,
until the scene is concluded when the dividing screen is moved to the
side as the office breaks for lunch.
Blum’s confrontations with Beizmenne punctuate the film and
thus become key components of its structure. The next day, she takes
a seat at the edge of the same room near the window as Beizmenne
perches on the desk in front of her, the state prosecutors now seated
behind them. The camera switches to Moeding taking press cuttings
and sitting behind a desk next to the poster of Holger Meins. It
then pans to Beizmenne, now standing in front of a wall screen with
notices posted on it, posing questions about Blum’s personal finances.
The mood is more relaxed and Blum accepts refreshments, even
taking a pill which is handed to her with a glass of water. Beizmenne
attempts a risqué joke about her state of semi-undress the previous
morning and has by now taken a seat as he gestures to her to come
forward to take a look at the fuel receipts for her car. As we know by
now, this is a green VW Beetle and one of Blum’s key requisites. She
now stands as he sits, looking down at him as she once again gains an
upper hand in the exchange. She is under pressure because the figures
do not add up and she has driven thousands more kilometres than
she needs to for her daily business. The moment becomes ever tenser
as the camera closes in on Blum’s face, holding her silence for some
fifteen seconds. She then realises how the discrepancy in the figures
has come about and confesses her lonely evening drives and her fear
of ending up in front of the television in the evening with nothing
better to do than get drunk. At the mention of the word ‘fear’ (angst),
Henze’s score intervenes and the scene switches to the uncanny
location of the waiting room.
There are three drafts of the film script among the boxes of
papers relating to Katharina Blum in the Schlöndorff Collection at
the Filminstitut in Frankfurt. The first is dated 3 October 1974,60
barely two months after the novel was published. All are written by
von Trotta and Schlöndorff, with extra dialogues supplied by Böll.
The trio met several times, the first occasion in the offices of Böll’s
publishers, Kiepenheuer & Witsch. Böll also visited the film set. It was
a productive working relationship, and one that Böll and Schlöndorff
reprised two years later in their contribution to Germany in Autumn,
which included most of the main actors from Katharina Blum, and
for a third time in another omnibus film, War and Peace, in which
Bennent, Prochnow and Winkler are also reunited. Böll explained
his understanding of the various characters, what motivated them
and whether they had models in real life. He insisted that as men
in their thirties or early forties, the villains were too young to have
been Nazis and had acquired their authoritarian mental habits in
the post-war republic. Sträubleder was based on the up-and-coming
Christian Democrat politician Kurt Biedenkopf (b.1932), who would
spend twelve years as the first post-reunification Minister President of
Saxony. ‘A very dangerous man’, Böll told Schlöndorff.
Katharina Blum was Schlöndorff’s fourth literary adaptation
but his first by a living author. He found the change refreshing
because of the opportunity it afforded for collaboration with the
writer. Of the major authors he went on to adapt – Marguerite
Yourcenar (his last collaboration with von Trotta), Günter Grass,
Marcel Proust, Arthur Miller, Margaret Atwood, Max Frisch and
Michel Tournier – only Proust was no longer alive. Böll was always
generous in his comments about the film, often maintaining that this
or that scene was better than its equivalent in the book – for example,
Tötges, immediately before Blum shoots him, behaving as if he were
in a brothel by scattering banknotes on Blum’s sitting room table
while he explains that they can make much more money together
if she does as he says.61 Böll wrote to Kopelew just before the
German premiere that ‘Katharina-Blum-Film is finished, turned out
very well.’62
Schlöndorff has explained that their strategy of adaptation
was different from similar projects because the imperative to respect
the source and find visual or filmic equivalents no longer held. The
question was not:
How to transpose to the screen what there is in the book, but how to
transpose to the screen what there is in reality, and that Böll treated in his
book. Both of us refer to a common point of departure which is reality, and
we think about it in one way for the book, in another for the film.63
He also explained that the film was an index for the present and in
dialogue with both the past and future:
The novel was their starting point and the drafts of the
screenplay stick more closely to it than the final film. Ideas for visual
images emerged during filming and editing, and their decision-making
was guided by what they could make work on screen. In particular,
it took the screenplay authors a good while to get the beginning
and ending right. The first version starts with Blum’s confession to
Moeding that she has shot Tötges. Instead of putting her under arrest
and taking her into custody, Moeding returns with her to see Tötges’
body. The next scene shows the discovery of the second body, that
of the Zeitung’s photographer Schönner, in woods outside the city.
There follows a statement by the carnival official expressing relief
that the murder happened at the end of the festival season and thus
did not damage takings, then a cut to Tötges’ funeral, which Böll
originally passed over in a line and a half. The oration is given by
Lüding as the Zeitung boss. In the drafts, Lüding comes across rather
more like a vicar who has read a little too much contemporary
philosophy, musing:
The funeral was located alternately at the start or the end of the
film. In one draft it is the locus for the flashback, thus placed at the
beginning and the end, which is similar to the narrative structure
of The Lost Honor of Kathryn Beck. Most bizarrely, von Trotta
and Schlöndorff entertained the idea of giving this speech to the
renowned editor of the liberal weekly Die Zeit, Countess Marion
von Dönhoff. The version of this scene in the final film was criticised
for its apparent heavy-handedness by critics such as Jack Zipes, who
argued that Schlöndorff tries to make us incensed by ending with
love that during his argument with Blorna he fails to realise the irony
of his defence that ‘we live after all in a free country’, as he pleads
for his name to be left out of the scandal. The camera momentarily
switches to Saturday’s edition of the Zeitung to show that the same
freedom did not help Blum.
In the first draft, after establishing the facts of the murder,
as the novel’s narrator does in his first three sections, there is now
a flashback to the carnival party on Wednesday night. Tötges and
Schönner have larger roles than in the novel, which is mainly a
function of the cinematic dramaturgy and the need for a showdown
between Tötges and Blum. When they get out of their black Porsche
in the village where Frau Blum senior lives, pausing first to buy a
bunch of flowers, the screenplay specifies that they look ‘like killers
in a western’.68 Reminiscent of a cowboy, Tötges sports a wide-
brimmed black hat, and he is also constantly in a hurry, whether
on foot or in his Porsche. This is a visual reference to the pre-war
investigative journalist Egon Erwin Kisch, who was known as the
‘racing reporter’.
Reporter Werner Tötges (Dieter Laser) and photographer Schönner (Leo Weisse)
interviews neither. The film also respects their privacy, leaving their
intimacy indeterminate, a gap in the story which the audience must
fill in for itself. The decision distinguishes Katharina Blum from the
US remake, not to mention Richard Flanagan’s Sydney-based literary
thriller The Unknown Terrorist (2006), which delights in sexual
descriptions.
There is multiple doubling of scenes in Katharina Blum. For
example, toilets and bathrooms are part of a network of imagery
involving dirt and disorder, associated in particular with Blum’s flat
after the police raid, which are offset by scenes of washing. Toilets
convey a sense of general social ‘besmirchment’ and are associated
each time with the police.69 Sheikh Karl sits on a toilet at the carnival
party to relay the results of his undercover work to Beizmenne and
Moeding waiting in a squad car in the city centre. Blum must clean
the toilet in the police cell when she is locked up at her own insistence
during the lunch break. She is also sick in the police station bathroom
on Friday morning after trying to digest what the Zeitung has written
about her. She is joined in the women’s bathroom by the female
officer who helped her get dressed the previous morning in her own
bathroom, which genders places of washing as female. Blum is shown
cleansing herself under the shower after her first interrogation and
washing her mother’s body after her death following Tötges’ illegal
guard. The other scene involves the washing of the mother’s body.
The image was meant to shock, as the naked female body is not
usually presented on camera in this way. The scene was added by the
film-makers, as in the novel Blum is only granted the opportunity of
seeing her mother’s face. In the earlier bathroom scene she first bends
for a rectal examination, underlining how Blum’s private space has
been invaded and she is being stripped of her dignity as a preliminary
to the taking of her honour. As Blum then struggles into her clothes
in semi-public view, her nakedness is presented at peculiar angles,
her gaze distressed and face turned partially downwards. The image
may still satisfy a voyeuristic impulse. Blum has been told to change
out of her bathrobe because she is putting herself ‘on public display’,
according to Hach, to which she has replied that she is not displaying
herself because she is at home. Hach is not only deflecting attention
from his acquaintance with Blum by telling her to dress, but also
shifting the sexual blame in a way which will continue throughout the
film. We also see a raid of sorts by Herbert and Trude Blorna on Hach
at his home on the Saturday morning, when he emerges wearing a
dark bathrobe, complaining loudly about the intrusion. One of the
film’s structuring principles is thus to pair up scenes from its opposite
halves; the two most dramatic sequences are the confrontations
at Blum’s apartment – first her arrest by Beizmenne and then her
who is tailing them, and she has not told Beizmenne about it either
during the course of the day. But her confession to Götten anticipates
explanations of her behaviour which she makes to Beizmenne during
the interrogations on Thursday and Friday, in particular about her
solitary nocturnal driving.
For its narrative force the film depends on solving successive
mysteries. The first surrounds Götten’s disappearance, which is
revealed when Blum calls him on the Friday evening, and his crime,
which is cleared up the following evening after his arrest. The second
is the identity of the ‘gentleman visitor’, which Blum refuses to reveal
and we learn on Saturday is Sträubleder. The third is the reason for
the extra kilometres recorded on her VW Beetle. Finally, there are
Blum’s intentions in the last sequence of scenes on Sunday after she
has arranged an exclusive interview with Tötges.
Depicting the lovers’ meeting three times follows a principle of
musical composition: two of Henze’s three themes are woven ever
more closely together through repetition in variation. In the first shots
of the party, in the film’s third scene, Blum cannot be heard speaking.
While she is the object of others’ speech and we hear her name, she
does not say anything herself until the following morning. We do
not hear her side of the conversation when Claudia Stern phones her
from Café Polkt (which is indirectly her film entrance), but we catch
her first name (‘Hallo, Katharina’) and understand that her attitude is
regarded as nunnish when the topic of bringing back men to the party
is brought up. We first see her as she is walking past, slightly hunched,
hardly the usual entrance expected of the film’s star. Her silence and
semi-invisibility show that she is not an obvious choice as a principal
character and is only made into one by unexpected circumstances.
Her name has already been said out loud on three occasions by the
time she leaves the party. It is first revealed by Claudia to Sheikh Karl
when he asks ‘who is the good-looking one?’ Locked in the lavatory,
he then repeats it through his walkie-talkie to Beizmenne, who says
it again when he makes a phone call, ordering wire taps for ‘Blum,
Katharina’ and ‘Woltersheim, Else’. Blum’s first words uttered the
following morning, ‘He has left’, refer to one man (Götten) and are
directed at another (Beizmenne). The same is true of her last words,
also directed at Beizmenne, when, following her second arrest, he
asks her if she has also shot Schönner the photographer and she
replies, ‘Well, why not him too?’ For Richard Falcon, Blum’s last
words represent the film’s climax, which he notes coincides with ‘the
tightest close up of Katharina’s face in the film’.70 It doubles with
the longest close-up of her face when she tells Beizmenne about her
solitary night-time driving.
The film sharpens the novel’s critique of the Catholic Church,
a central concern in much of Böll’s fiction and especially poignant
given the prominence of Catholicism in the Rhineland. Böll’s Blum
has opted out of paying the ‘church tax’, which means that she no
longer properly counts as a Catholic, though, after her crime and
seeking some peace and time to think about her mother, she takes
herself to a church, as it is the only place offering some tranquility
on the Sunday of carnival. The film introduces the figure of Father
Urbanus, the sole added character, who summons her to the abbey on
the Saturday morning. She first of all apologises to him for revealing
that he was the source of a Marx quotation Beizmenne found among
her possessions, but then he leads her into a surprise meeting with
Sträubleder, who beseeches her to return the key to his villa and not
to mention his name to the police. Father Urbanus is thus seen to
collaborate with one of the villains, which shows the Church and
business operating hand in glove, as they are seen to do repeatedly
in Böll’s fiction. When Blum flees the scene, she jumps into a
Renault 4 driven by Woltersheim and Beiters, passing a long row
of black Mercedes limousines waiting for the businessmen. The
quotation, which Blum keeps inside a book, is read out by Beizmenne
and aligns both the film and more poignantly Father Urbanus briefly
with the rhetoric of the student movement:
good. The divine power of money – lies in its character as men’s estranged,
alienating and self-disposing species-nature. Money is the alienated ability
of mankind.
It must have been Böll’s addition, even though the quotation does
not feature in the novel, because an overlapping passage from the
same source is used in the film version of The Clown, which went
into production simultaneously with Katharina Blum. Böll once
again co-wrote the screenplay. Here Beizmenne and Hach are
caught in a double bind because, while on the one hand it would
suit their purposes to pin knowledge of Marx on their suspect, to
do so would give her a status which in their eyes she does not
warrant. They would also prefer the quotation to come from her
supposedly anarchist lover rather than her priest. Moeding reveals
his own status by identifying the quotation as coming from Marx’s
Early Writings.71
Blum gradually gains articulacy in her confrontations with the
police and in other conversations – with Sträubleder at the abbey or
with the hospital doctor after her mother’s death. After he promises
to sue if it turns out Tötges really did intrude on her mother’s ward,
Blum gives the doctor the benefit of her views on tabloid journalists:
‘These people are murderers, of people and reputations – all of them
– that is just what their job consists of, depriving innocent people
of their reputations, sometimes of their lives – otherwise nobody
would buy their articles from them.’ The doctor is dumbfounded
and asks whether she is a Marxist. The scene doubles with the earlier
discussion of Marx. Blum is not a political person. She becomes
radicalised because of what happens to her, which she is not prepared
to accept (any longer), rather than through reading abstract theory.
The two scenes involving references to Marx thus show Blum’s
growth over a 48-hour period.
Blum ends the film as she begins it, however: in silence. She is
reticent on Saturday evening after Götten’s capture and her mother’s
death, only asking Herbert Blorna how long Ludwig will stay in
prison. She says nothing at all on the Sunday morning in the build-up
to the meeting with Tötges. After she has had beer and insults thrown
in her face at a bar full of early-morning carnival revellers, she says
nothing in response, instead fetching the gun from Beiters’ flat. The
revellers are at ‘Frühschoppen’, as Claudia explains, or early-morning
drinking, a carnival custom on the Sunday before Lent. Blum also
remains silent while Tötges explains his plans for them to make
their fortunes with her revelations, starting with her account of her
relationship with Sträubleder. In response to his final suggestion that
they sleep together, she shoots him without saying a word. Tötges
uses the vulgar verb bumsen, which was employed for comic effect
in the English-language German film Cabaret (1972, dir. Bob Fosse)
by the performer Sally Bowles (Liza Minnelli). It is a reprise of the
exchange which took place at the same location between Blum and
Beizmenne on Thursday morning when the frustrated police inspector
asked: ‘Did he fuck you, then?’ When Tötges throws money about the
room he is also enacting the meaning of the Marx quotation about
money. In structural terms, Sunday morning repeats Wednesday
evening: a fancy-dress carnival gathering in a café or at a party (on
Sunday Blum too is dressed as a Bedouin and wearing a makeshift
veil) precedes an assignation at her apartment with a man. For the
second time, the camera dwells on a long shot of her residential tower
A female officer held her in a neck lock, a male officer lifted her legs, her skirt
rose up, as photographers took their pictures and the television crew was
filming. A reporter shouted out: ‘Hair out of the face!’ At this point another
officer pulled her hair upwards. In the evening the scene was shown on
national television.73
Schiller had not fired the fatal shots, but helped the gunman get
away and had a pistol in her handbag at the time of her arrest. The
police manhandling of her looked inhumane. Blum is presented to the
cameras as a trophy in a similarly brutal way, though it is the female
police officer who grabs her hair. This is the photograph reproduced
on the front page the following morning. In von Trotta’s play the
stage direction states: ‘the police officers grab her hair and thrust her
face towards the photographers’ (p. 13). In the 2018 documentary
Sympathisers: Our German Autumn, directed by von Trotta’s son
Felix Moeller, footage of Schiller is juxtaposed with the foyer scene
from Katharina Blum, revealing that Winkler’s hairstyle and colour
were modelled on Schiller’s.
The film borrows from similar iconography at several other
moments. Each cue indicates the film is taking sides, embedding its
fictional visual narrative in the representation of recent events and
offering a corrective. On the afternoon of Blum’s interrogation the
audience glimpses a poster of Holger Meins in Beizmenne’s office
under a caption about ‘hunger strike’ and ‘isolation torture’. Meins
starved himself to death in prison three months before Katharina
Blum went into production. The poster is a reminder of Götten’s
physical resemblance to him. Beizmenne is also filmed in front of a
wanted poster showing multiple mugshots resembling those of the
‘Violent Anarchists’ which were displayed prominently in public
buildings throughout the republic. Blum’s refusal to break bread with
her interrogators during the lunch break on Thursday and stated
preference to be locked in a cell, where she declines further offers of
food and drink, constitute a mini-hunger strike. Her first action in the
cell is to clean the open toilet after a previous occupant has been sick
over it. But the following evening after two editions of Die Zeitung
have caused neighbours to think the worst of her, she throws bottles
and food at the walls of her flat, which recalls too the ‘dirty protests’
carried out by RAF prisoners in their prison cells, a tactic copied by
the IRA in Northern Ireland.
The first draft of the screenplay includes a description of the
police station:
Photo of Götten. An extensive office space, the walls of which are covered
with wanted posters for ‘Anarchists, Radicals etc.’, as well as photos which are
just of demonstrations against the Vietnam War or restrictions on university
places [numerus clausus].74
the house with his hands up, which recalls Meins’ arrest on 2 June;
Götten has been wounded in the exchange of fire, as Baader was,
and is placed on a stretcher and lifted into an ambulance, again like
Baader and as shown on live TV.75 Meins, once a film student, has
ghostly presences in other contemporary German films. Straub–
Huillet dedicated Moses and Aron to him in 1975 and The American
Friend (1977, dir. Wim Wenders) includes the graffiti ‘Murder of
Holger Meins’. In the final scene of The Second Awakening of Christa
Klages, the eponymous central character stands in front of a poster of
Meins similar to that shown in Katharina Blum after her arrest.
The filming of Götten’s arrest attracted the attention of the
police who visited the outdoor set. One of the extras playing a
member of the police was told off by a senior officer for having hair
which was too long. The extra swore back at him and Schlöndorff
was concerned that his film would be confiscated in retaliation. The
police relaxed only after Mario Adorf posed with them for souvenir
photos.76 Finally, the unexpected encounter between the lovers after
their separate arrests was inspired by a similar unintended meeting
between two captives. None of these images is a visual translation
of a motif in the book. They were all added by the film-makers. The
references align the film to the Baader–Meinhof subject matter in
ways the book did not.
Film and reality merged in other ways. In the month the film
premiered, the film-makers’ Tuscan holiday house was raided by
Italian police looking for a member of the Red Brigades, the Italian
version of the RAF. Winkler recalls being manhandled in September
1986 by police in Italy who mistook her for a gypsy wanted for
robbery. After Katharina Blum she would be sent hate mail just like
the character she played, and she was reported more than once to
the police by passers-by, one of whom once followed her home. The
police even searched her flat while she was out: ‘It reminded me of
the cinema, as if I was Katharina Blum.’77 Posters for the film were
pasted next to mugshots of the wanted ‘Violent Anarchists’, and not
everyone could distinguish between the two. To others, on the other
hand, Katharina Blum was a hero, even a contemporary Joan of Arc.
between Blum and Götten at the end), the suite has seven movements:
1. The Poisoned River; 2. The Lovers; 3. Lament; 4. Memories; 5.
Rush Hour (Great Fugue); 6. Fear; and 7. The Poisoned River. The
style throughout is self-consciously modernist – intense, concentrated,
atonal and dissonant, thus very different in tone and method from
Böll’s prose or the film. As a result the textures are complex and
polyphonic, and the music characterised by gestures rather than
sharply profiled melodies. Technically, it is grounded in the 12-tone
serial technique and projects a similar kind of expressionist sound-
world to the modernist composers of the previous generation, Arnold
Schönberg, Alban Berg and Anton Webern. Henze further uses a
full catalogue of avant-garde tricks – the orchestra includes a huge
percussion section and he notates slides, microtones, instrumental
special effects and some elements of improvisation. The effect is
tense, atmospheric and occasionally violent in a chaotic kind of way,
and is not relieved by more conventional or popular styles. There
are occasional moments of soaring violin melody which recall the
lyricism of Berg’s 1935 Violin Concerto. Henze himself mentioned
Wagner’s Rheingold in relation to the ‘The Poisoned River’ but it
is an ironic allusion and a long way from an instantly recognisable
quotation. The later movements are more fragmented, being
compiled from a number of shorter cues. The serial procedures are
highly abstract and not apparent to a listener. Henze was reacting
with his own artwork in the language of music to the same set of
contemporary political circumstances.79 He is also more hopeful
than Böll in that he sees the lovers’ brief reunion as a vindication of
their actions.
The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum, or: Where Violence
Comes From and Where It Can Lead by Margarethe von Trotta
(Cologne: Kiepenheuer & Witsch) premiered at the Werkstattbühne
der Stadt Bonn on 8 May 1976, two days after Henze’s suite in
Brighton. While the title page claims that this play is based on Böll’s
novel, it also derives from the various versions of the film script,
though diverges at times sharply from them. The action is divided
The play is better than the film in some scenes (which I wrote, but I am not
the author of the play, which is written by Margarethe von Trotta), even better
than the book (which is not that bad, even if feeble).80
open the hatch but instead a machine gun emerges from the ground
and the sister is killed. The relative political optimism of the mid-
1970s has dissipated by the beginning of the next decade.
In the US, the 1980s was similarly marked by a turn to
conservatism, symbolised most clearly by the election of the
Republican Ronald Reagan to the presidency in 1980. The Lost
Honor of Kathryn Beck, retitled Act of Passion for VHS release, was
an oppositional film, though more from a feminist perspective than
the original novel or film, which bizarrely it nowhere acknowledges.
The producer and leading actress Marlo Thomas was associated
closely with the women’s movement.82 It was Thomas who pitched
the idea to CBS and recruited box-office draw Kris Kristofferson
to play the fugitive lover Ben Cole. Thomas was also well known
in the US as a comic actress, later playing Rachel’s mother in the
long-running sitcom Friends. Thomas (forty-seven) and Kristofferson
(forty-eight) were both considerably older than Winkler (thirty-one)
and Prochnow (thirty-four) when they played the equivalent roles,
rendering the remake, which transposes the entire plot to a Midwest
American context, a more knowing film and the heroine in some
respects worldlier. For example, Beck has slept with the Sträubleder
character. What is added and left out contributes to an understanding
of what makes Schlöndorff and von Trotta’s film distinctive. As it
was made for primetime television audiences in the US, the profane
language used by Beizmenne and Tötges is toned down or left out. In
other respects, it is more conventional. The camera follows the lovers
back to Kathryn’s apartment, where viewers discreetly participate
in their love-making. Beck is still in bed, covered up but clearly
naked, when the police raid the apartment the following morning.
The police accuse her directly during the interrogation of selling her
body on a regular basis. Cole is a suspected activist for a fictitious
radical grouping named the ‘armoured truck drivers’, for which he
is accused of carrying out bank robberies. He was bugged at the
party where he meets Beck, which means that the police can quote
Beck’s sweet nothings back to her during questioning. There is an
extended flashback, as the film starts and ends with Beck being led
past a pack of journalists after her arrest. There is no equivalent at
all for carnival or the Springer Press and the Bild-Zeitung, as the
unscrupulous journalist Donald Catton works for a small-town
newspaper. There is controversy, however, over the rights of witnesses
– Beck is questioned for information on Cole and told that she could
spend the rest of her life in jail if she does not help the police. There
is also rivalry between the FBI and the local police. The turning
point in the film is the death of Beck’s mother after the journalist’s
illegal visit. Beck is shown her mother’s face only after she has died
and does not participate in washing the corpse, but she does visit
the funeral parlour and is arrested for shooting Catton. The lovers
are clearly fond of each other but they are not in love. What is more
remarkable is that a left-wing film inspired by German events in the
previous decade should be remade in the US in the Reagan era. The
next significant adaptations are Australian and British and from the
twenty-first century.
After the 9/11 attacks in New York, interest in the literature of
terrorism revived across the West. Richard Flanagan’s The Unknown
Terrorist, a literary thriller, with sex, drugs and suspense, which was
shortlisted for the Booker Prize, belongs to this trend. Set in Sydney’s
criminal and red-light underworld in the aftermath of atrocities
committed by Islamic extremists in Bali, Beslan, Madrid and London,
it recounts a night of passion between the pole dancer Gina Davies,
referred to throughout by her nickname ‘the Doll’, and a chance male
encounter whom she knows only as Tariq. It is Mardi Gras, Sydney’s
equivalent to Cologne’s carnival. The novel is divided into four
sections corresponding to the four days over which the plot unfolds.
Most of the plot elements have an equivalent in the original novel
and/or film adaptation. Tariq disappears, however, before Davies
wakes up. Moments after she has left what she took to be his flat, it
is surrounded by police and journalists. Fairly soon details of her life
story are splashed across the media as she has been recognised by one
of her clients, a failing television presenter called Richard Cody intent
They didn’t look like soldiers. They didn’t look like armed police or security
guys. They looked like … like, unbelievable, really, Gina. I couldn’t believe
them, they were out of Star Wars, aliens, they were all in black, but their suits
had special pockets and bumps and gadgets and what with their helmets
and goggles they looked kind of like amphibious monsters, like killer toads
crawled out of the sewers to kill us all, that’s what I felt. I mean, they were
so weird. They looked like death, Gina, like what happens when you die, and I
just thought, I’m going to die.83
Notes
31 Both incidents are discussed in the 42 See Petersen, Die Rezeption von Bölls
documentary Sympathisers: Our German Katharina Blum.
Autumn (2018, dir. Felix Moeller). 43 Mark W. Rectanus, ‘The Lost Honor
32 La Bande à Baader. ITI présente of Katharina Blum: The Reception of
SATELLITE. Emission de J. F. Chauvel. a German Bestseller in the USA’,
Réportage: P. A. Boutang, 22 May 1975, The German Quarterly 59 no. 2 (1986):
VS A-12.10.6. 252–69, 256.
33 Quoted by Joel E. Siegel, ‘Op[press]ive 44 R. W. Kilborn, Whose Lost Honour?
Freedom’, Washington Newsworks, A Study of the Film Adaptation of Böll’s
no date, VS A-12.7.2. The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum
34 Der Spiegel, 29 July 1974. The novel (Glasgow: Scottish Papers in German
was serialised in four instalments with Studies, 1984), pp. 17–18.
illustrations by Klaus Vogelgesang. 45 Jack Zipes, ‘The Political Dimensions
35 Heinrich Böll and Lew Kopelew, of The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum’,
Briefwechsel, ed. Elsbeth Zylla. With New German Critique 12 (Autumn 1977):
an essay by Karl Schlögel (Göttingen: 75–84, 82.
Steidl, 2011): 14 May 1972, p. 191; 46 Moeller and Lellis, Volker Schlöndorff’s
16 September 1972, p. 202. Cinema, pp. 136–41.
36 Ibid., p. 263. 47 Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and His
37 On the similarities between Blum World, tr. Helene Iswolsky (Bloomington:
and Meinhof, see Cordia Baumann, Indiana University Press, 1984). First
Literarische und filmische Mythentradierung translated into English in 1968, its
von Bölls ‘Katharina Blum’ bis zum ‘Baader reception in Germany was delayed,
Meinhof Komplex’ (Paderborn: Schöningh, making it highly unlikely that Böll or
2012), pp. 127–9. the film-makers knew about it.
38 Quoted in Stefan Aust, Der Baader 48 Richard Sheppard, ‘Upstairs –
Meinhof Komplex (Munich: Goldmann, Downstairs – Some Reflections on
1998), p. 270. German Literature in the Light of
39 Anette Petersen, Die Rezeption von Bakhtin’s Theory of Carnival’, in
Bölls Katharina Blum in den Massenmedien Sheppard (ed.), New Ways in Germanistik
der Bundesrepublik (Copenhagen: Fink, (New York and Oxford: Berg, 1990),
1980), pp. 13–14. pp. 278–314.
40 Helmut Röster, ‘Der unaufhörliche 49 Thilo Wydra, Volker Schlöndorff und
Fall der Katharina Blum’, Hieroglyphe. seine Filme (Munich: Heyne, 1998), p. 100.
Zeitschrift für Literatur als Medium und 50 Letter from Todd McCarthy to von
Objekt der Kritik nos 7–8 (1982): 11–29. Trotta and Schlöndorff, 26 May 1976,
41 It is post-dated to 1975. Heinrich Böll, VS A-12.8.2.
The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum, or: How 51 Krezel and Vacano, Die Kamera als
Violence Develops and Where It Can Lead, Auge des Zuschauers, p. 53.
tr. Leila Vennewitz (London: Secker and 52 Junkersdorf, in Habich (dir.),
Warburg, 1975). Erinnerungen an Katharina Blum.
53 Schlöndorff, Licht, Schatten und and Conard (eds), Heinrich Böll on Page
Bewegung, p. 218. and Screen, pp. 163–7, 169.
54 Siegel, ‘Op[press]ive Freedom’. 70 Falcon, ‘That Obscure Object of
55 Stephan Schiff, ‘Stop the Presses’, Redemption’, p. 169.
Boston Phoenix, undated, VS A-12.7.2. 71 Moeding is right, but the quotation
56 See Christoph Peters et al., Eine is truncated. See Karl Marx, ‘The Power
Ästhetik des Humanen. Böll, ed. Michael of Money in Bourgeois Society’, in The
Serrer (Düsseldorf: Virgines, 2018), p. 81. Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts,
57 Siegel, ‘Op[press]ive Freedom’. written in 1844 but not published until
58 Krezel and Vacano, Die Kamera als 1932, tr. Martin Milligan, rev. Dirk J.
Auge des Zuschauers, p. 48. Struik. Available online: <https://www.
59 Interview with Schlöndorff and von marxists.org/archive/marx/works/
Trotta on the Criterion Collection DVD download/pdf/Economic-Philosophic-
(2003). Manuscripts-1844.pdf> (accessed 22
60 VS A-12-1.1, 009. November 2020), pp. 61, 62.
61 In an interview with Christian 72 VS A-12-1.1, 001, p. 27.
Lindner (Drei Tage im März) quoted in the 73 Aust, Der Baader Meinhof Komplex,
Presseheft, VS A-12.6.3. p. 198.
62 24 September 1975, Böll and 74 VS A-12-1.1, 001, p. 38.
Kopelew, Briefwechsel, p. 295. 75 VS A-12-1.1, 002, p. 124. Writing in
63 Quoted by William R. Magretta and the London Times on 5 January 1976,
Joan Magretta, ‘Story and Discourse. Paul Moor contends that Götten is
Schlöndorff and von Trotta’s The Lost ‘a reasonable facsimile for Andreas
Honor of Katharina Blum’, in Andrew S. Baader’, but German audiences
Horton and Joan Magretta (eds), Modern are more likely to have recognised
European Filmmakers and the Art of Meins. The Times was never really
Adaptation (New York: Ungar, 1981), concentrating on Katharina Blum:
pp. 278–94, 278. David Robinson’s review identified
64 Quoted by Petersen, Die Rezeption von von Trotta in the title role (The Times,
Bölls Katharina Blum, p. 78. 13 May 1977).
65 VS A-12-1.1, p. 1. 76 Mario Adorf, Himmel und Erde.
66 Zipes, ‘The Political Dimensions of Unordentliche Erinnerungen (Cologne:
The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum’, p. 83, Kiepenheuer & Witsch, 2004), pp. 25–51.
quoting Robert Hatch, ‘Film Reviews’, 77 Angela Winkler, with Brigitta Landes,
Nation, 17 January 1976, p. 59. Mein blaues Zimmer. Autobiographische
67 Schlöndorff in Habich (dir.), Skizzen (Cologne: Kiepenheuer & Witsch,
Erinnerungen an Katharina Blum. 2019), p. 70.
68 VS A-12-1.1, 001, p. 32. 78 Eckhard Roelcke, ‘Mief und Moral’,
69 Richard Falcon, ‘That Obscure Object Die Zeit, 26 April 1991.
of Redemption or “Reality” in Two 79 See Jens Rostoeck, Hans Werner Henze
Adaptations of Heinrich Böll’, in Huber (Berlin: Ullstein, 2009), p. 434.
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