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1. Artificial Silk Plants
2. Milk Silk Dress Girls

In 1931, a young woman writer living in Germany was inspired by Anita Loos's Gentlemen Prefer Blondes to describe pre-war Berlin and the age of cinematic glamour through the eyes of a woman. The resulting novel, The Artificial Silk Girl, became an acclaimed bestseller and a masterwork of German literature, in the tradition of Christopher Isherwood's Berlin Stories and Bert In 1931, a young woman writer living in Germany was inspired by Anita Loos's Gentlemen Prefer Blondes to describe pre-war Berlin and the age of cinematic glamour through the eyes of a woman. The resulting novel, The Artificial Silk Girl, became an acclaimed bestseller and a masterwork of German literature, in the tradition of Christopher Isherwood's Berlin Stories and Bertolt Brecht's Three Penny Opera. Like Isherwood and Brecht, Keun revealed the dark underside of Berlin's 'golden twenties' with empathy and honesty. Unfortunately, a Nazi censorship board banned Keun's work in 1933 and destroyed all existing copies of The Artificial Silk Girl. Only one English translation was published, in Great Britain, before the book disappeared in the chaos of the ensuing war.

1. The Artificial Silk Girl is a thin novel, but it is rich with poignant detail of the female experience. Keun is able to speak beyond the experience of German women one hundred years ago. Keun is able to speak beyond the experience of German women one hundred years ago.
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Today, more than seven decades later, the story of this quintessential 'material girl' remains as relevant as ever, as an accessible new translation brings this lost classic to light once more. Other Press is pleased to announce the republication of The Artificial Silk Girl, elegantly translated by noted Germanist Kathie von Ankum, and with a new introduction by Harvard professor Maria Tatar. I am sure that I will read this book again.

Artificial Silk Plants

In fact, I will probably buy a copy.hopefully some entity like Folio Society will publish this gem! Written in the 1930s, this book could only have been published in Europe, North American social mores and sexual repression being what they were. Some of the thoughts expressed herein concern frank and open (but not specific) sexuality, particularly from the female viewpoint. Female desire and sexual fulfillment.who knew such things existed!

So the b I am sure that I will read this book again. In fact, I will probably buy a copy.hopefully some entity like Folio Society will publish this gem! Written in the 1930s, this book could only have been published in Europe, North American social mores and sexual repression being what they were. Some of the thoughts expressed herein concern frank and open (but not specific) sexuality, particularly from the female viewpoint. Female desire and sexual fulfillment.who knew such things existed! So the book was published in Germany and was very popular for a couple of years until it was banned by the Nutzies. Thereafter it was a regular feature at German street bonfires.

It seems that the fascists were opposed to sex and also took issue with the protagonist's mild criticism of the state of affairs prevalent in Germany at that time. This book is presented as the rambling monologue or memoir of a girl who has assumed the name of Doris. There is little likable about her: she is a thief, a liar, and she'll screw you for a sandwich. She uses men to get by as she pursues her dream of becoming a star. A dream that, the reader realizes, is unlikely to come to fruition.

In spite of all that, it is impossible to dislike Doris. There is something a little off about her.unhinged.maybe mentally challenged. I couldn't put my finger on the reason for this exactly, but while reading it I was constantly thinking of Sylvia Plath and Louise Brooks' Lulu from Pandora's Box. She is instinctive but not overly bright, making her way through decadent and impoverished Berlin as best she can. I couldn't help but root for her, a sad and lonely underdog merely wanting to be noticed. Eventually she gets a chance at love, but you'll have to read the book to see how that turns out. I don't know why Keun is not more widely known: every page was a delight to read, and Doris is a poet and philosopher without knowing it.hell, without even knowing what it means.

I'll leave you with a favourite quote (there are Many): So they have courses teaching you foreign languages and ballroom dancing and etiquette and cooking. But there are no classes to learn how to be by yourself in a furnished room with chipped dishes, or how to be alone in general without any words of concern or familiar sounds. I only recently came across this book when I became aware that an acquaintance of mine required it for a class he teaches on the Weimar Republic. It is a remarkable book. The narrator, Doris, is a working class girl and a bit of a ditz who narrates her story and describes her surroundings in a way that appears shallow and laughable even as it reveals both insight and folksy wisdom.

Doris has stolen a fur coat and finds herself alone in Berlin just trying to get. That means that she mostly moo I only recently came across this book when I became aware that an acquaintance of mine required it for a class he teaches on the Weimar Republic. It is a remarkable book. The narrator, Doris, is a working class girl and a bit of a ditz who narrates her story and describes her surroundings in a way that appears shallow and laughable even as it reveals both insight and folksy wisdom. Doris has stolen a fur coat and finds herself alone in Berlin just trying to get. That means that she mostly mooches off men, whom see invariably sees through: “If you want to strike it lucky with men, you have to let them think you’re stupid” (60).

Through Doris’s camera-like observations, we begin to get a picture of the decadent, sometimes cruel society around her and even glimpse the political currents swirling about, currents that leave Doris for the most part baffled. For example, a man asks Doris if she is a Jew, and thinking he hopes for a positive response, she says, “Yes.” He then drops her, which leaves her entirely baffled: “After all, a man should know in advance whether he likes a woman or not. At first they pay you all sorts of compliments and are drooling all over you—then you tell them: I’m a chestnut!—and their chin drops: oh, you’re a chestnut—yuk, I had no idea.

And you are exactly the way you were before, but just one word has supposedly changed you” (38). The German novelist Irmgard Keun was a major talent. It’s too bad she is not better known. Why is this hailed as a window to pre-Nazi Berlin when the narrator's observations are not especially insightful, about her environs or about the times in general?

Why is this hailed as feminist literature when Doris defines herself in terms of how desirable she is to men and chooses to remain blithely ignorant of the world around her unless it involves increasing her desirability and odds of finding a man to take care of her? There is validity in the comparisons to 'Sex and the City' and 'Bridg Why is this hailed as a window to pre-Nazi Berlin when the narrator's observations are not especially insightful, about her environs or about the times in general? Why is this hailed as feminist literature when Doris defines herself in terms of how desirable she is to men and chooses to remain blithely ignorant of the world around her unless it involves increasing her desirability and odds of finding a man to take care of her? There is validity in the comparisons to 'Sex and the City' and 'Bridget Jones's Diary' and in deeming Doris 'the original material girl,' but that's not necessarily a good thing, and it certainly doesn't make for an interesting novel. Doris is a shallow, judgmental, petty girl whose ambition is to become famous and wear fabulous clothing and be surrounded by the best of all consumer goods despite lacking the intelligence, skills, or work ethic that would merit such rewards on her own. She is not particularly clever or witty. She is proud of the fact that she lacks interest in politics or social affairs but is crafty and manipulative and tends to land on her feet because she knows how to stretch the truth (or lie) to get what she wants and is attractive enough to appeal to men's baser instincts.

Her downward spiral is the result of the theft of a fur coat, and hanging on to that stolen coat is the primary motivation for a series of bad decisions she makes. I don't find that a particularly sympathetic plight. I have no problem with stream of consciousness or faked memoirs that ramble and give half-thoughts in an attempt to seem realistic, but the writing is often incoherent and confusing.

This edition is riddled with disgraceful typos that render things even more tricky to follow. (There are a lot of opening quotation marks with no closing quotation marks, so it is difficult to know when there has been a change in the speaker of dialogue.) I'm not sorry I read the book, but I can't say I enjoyed it. I am relieved, though, that it was a fast read and that I had checked it out from the library rather than purchased it. Tilli says: 'Men are nothing but sensual and they only want one thing.' But I say: 'Tilli, sometimes women too are sensual and want only one thing.'

And there's no difference. Because sometimes I only want to wake up with someone in the morning, all messed up from kissing and half dead and without any energy to think, but wonderfully tires and rested at the same time. But you don't have to give a hoot otherwise. And there's nothing wrong with it, because both have the same feeling and want the Tilli says: 'Men are nothing but sensual and they only want one thing.' But I say: 'Tilli, sometimes women too are sensual and want only one thing.' And there's no difference. Because sometimes I only want to wake up with someone in the morning, all messed up from kissing and half dead and without any energy to think, but wonderfully tires and rested at the same time.

Milk Silk Dress Girls

But you don't have to give a hoot otherwise. And there's nothing wrong with it, because both have the same feeling and want the same thing from the other. I hope I can express my fondness for this book so that people will actually go to find it at a bookstore or library, and read it. It was published in Germany in 1933. Shortly thereafter, the Nazis banned Keun's work and destroyed all remaining copies. Fortunately, a British translation survived and Other Press has chosen wisely chosen to republish it. After all, Keun was a contemporary of Alfred Doblin who encouraged her to write.

Thus, we have a story of a young woman who moves from a small German town to Berlin to lake it as a an actress only to encounter homeless, poverty and bouts with prostitution. Now there's a summer read. Translated to perfection by Kathie von Ankum, this is a novel worth reading and savoring for Keun's uncanny ability with description and to portray a woman, whether likable or not, by what she sees and does without a moment of self-pity. Written in some way similar to a mock memoir, The Artificial Silk Girl gives a first -person account of Doris, a young German woman using her looks and charm to succeed. She makes no excuses and shows no regret. There's something so utterly captivating about a woman who knows what she is, how she is perceived but doesn't care what others think of her. She isn't afraid to use manipulation or deceit, but it is never without warrant.

Rather she uses it as a reaction to the pretentious or dishonest behavior of other people. Doris is not very educated nor socially savvy, and although her cynicism is often hilarious, Keun makes her seem good at heart in a touching way that avoids being mawkish. The voice is so well-developed that I could understand how, in Germany at that time, it would have become a bestseller and in turn create a scandal with its blunt honesty. What I found interesting and cloying is that in the introduction by Harvard professor Maria Tatar, which overall is excellent, is that she uses The Artificial Silk Girl as a precursor to Bridget Jones' Diary and Sex and the City. As if sex and female independence are the currency used in all eras of feminism and The Artificial Silk Girl is merely an early form of chick lit.

I understand perhaps the inclination to couch it that way to the modern reader, but I cringed when I read this because Keun's work is unique in voice and it's original appearance was a form of political, historical and gender resistance whereas Bridget Jones and Sex and the City seem more like a reflection of the current times. I am obviously not a Harvard professor so forgive if my ignorance is showing, but I couldn't help but think of Lynn Freed's The Mirror or even the works of Jean Rhys as a more appropriate parallel with their bleakness and female characters beyond redemption. When the novel opens, Doris is working in a lawyer's office as a secretary. From the opening pages, Keun's gift for description is unmistakeable: And for every comma that's missing, I have to five that old beanstalk of an attorney - he hasp pimples too, and his skin looks like my old yellow leather purse without a zipper. Or later when she describes a woman in a cafe who's '.not all that young anymore and has boobs like a swimming belt.'

Doris knows she is about to be fired and pulls out every trick of sensuality she has, but in the end, she gets fired. Doris has a softness with certain people that saves her from being harsh. She has Therese from the office, Tilli with whom she shares an apartment with in Berlin and Herr Brenner, the blind man she offers sex to because she gets to use her eyes to describe the world to him: 'I saw - men standing at the corners selling perfume, without a coat and a pert face and a gray cap on - and posters with naked and rosy girls on them and nobody looking at them - a restaurant with more chrome than an operating room - they even have oysters there - and famous photographers with photos in showcases displaying enormous people without any beauty. And sometimes with.'

Again, later, when she is describing the scene at a Russian Restaurant in Berlin for Herr Brenner: '.a handsome man just kissed a woman as a fat as a tadpole - old men are kissing each other - the music goes one-two, one-two - there are lamps hanging from the ceiling that look like Paul's starfish collection stuck together - the music is covered with flowers like a chiffon dress which tears very easily - let me tell you, Herr Brenner, a woman should never wear artificial silk when she's with a man. It wrinkles too quickly, and what are you going to look like after seven real kisses? Only pure silk, I say - and music -' Doris' demise is miserable but in the end there is an overwhelming and welcome sense of hope for her future. Even though Doris may have facets that are materialistic, vain and shallow, Keun also created a woman of depth which manifests through Doris' cinematic view of the world and her empathy for humanity. The back of the book makes a comparison to Christopher Isherwood, (I can only imagine it must be The Berlin Stories) which is much more apt than a somewhat dismissive designation to chick lit. If you need a read that is both intelligent, honest, entertaining and original, please read The Artificial Silk Girl.

It's the presence so needed of female writer's of the past who dared to talk of sex and independence at a time when it wasn't accepted by society as easily as a Sex and the City sequel.