Fiction – paperback; Penguin Modern Classics; 208 pages; 2009. Translated from the German by Michael Hofmann.
Child of All Nations by Irmgard Keun (1905–1982) is a charming yet haunting story about a young girl travelling across Europe with her parents as they flee political persecution in the 1930s. First published in 1938 under the German title Kind aller Länder, the novel’s charm lies in its narrator’s naïve voice.
The story is told through the eyes of nine-year-old Kully, who struggles to understand the adult world around her but grows more aware and mature as the narrative unfolds.
Kully’s father, a German writer, has fled his homeland after becoming a target of the authorities because of his work:
The government had locked up a friend of his […] and he couldn’t write or say the things he wanted to write or say (page 27).
The family moves between hotels and boarding houses across countries, including the Netherlands, Belgium and France, sustained by her father’s efforts to secure publishers and loans.
Enforced separation
Their hardships deepen as her father, with his penchant for drinking, often disappears for weeks at a time, leaving Kully and her mother to live hand-to-mouth, amassing debts and going hungry. When he returns, any money he has managed to gather is quickly gone:
Sometimes my father rings from Brussels, and says, ‘Be calm, children, be calm.’ My father never cries. It’s warm and we’re hungry. We can’t leave, because we can’t pay the hotel bill. We can’t enter any other country, but we can’t stay here either. Perhaps we’ll be thrown into prison, and then we’ll be fed. (pages 86–87)
Kully is a reluctant witness to her parents’ strained relationship. Her father’s preoccupation with writing, drinking and chasing fleeting pleasures contrasts sharply with her mother’s growing exhaustion with their transient lifestyle and frequent separations.
At night my mother holds me so tight it hurts me, and I can’t sleep. So many cars are rushing past our window. ‘Kully, I can’t stand it any more,’ my mother shouts, and she jumps out of bed and orders a trunk call to Cologne. She wants to talk to my grandmother.
‘Oh, Mama,’ she cries, ‘how are you? Everything is so awful!’ I always thought of my grandmother as just my grandmother, but it seems she’s also the mother of my mother. (page 87)
Despite the chaos, Kully’s resourcefulness often shines as she navigates adult responsibilities like dealing with hotel staff and managing financial obstacles.
<< SPOILER ALERT >>
But when Kully’s father moves them to America, hoping to find financial success through publication, the situation worsens rather than improves. That’s because Kully’s mother misses the boat, leaving Kully and her father to continue alone. Despite missing her mother and enduring ongoing hardship in yet another unfamiliar country, Kully remains loyal to her father and adjusts to their unpredictable life.
<< SPOILER ENDS >>
Kully’s indefatigable spirit, curiosity and resilience make her an engaging narrator. Her observations are often striking and, at times, devastating:
My father has a revolver he can shoot with. If we’re ever really stuck, he’ll shoot us with it. Then at least nothing more can happen to us. Probably you smell bad when you’re dead […] but that doesn’t matter because we won’t be able to smell ourselves. (page 100)
While the childlike voice can occasionally wear thin, Kully’s innocent wonder brings the story vividly to life. Her perspective makes Child of All Nations a poignant and memorable read.
I read this for German Literature Month hosted by Lizzy’s Literary Life and Beauty is a Sleeping Cat in November. I’m only a week late!
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