The defeat of Nazi Germany was their victory, but left them bereft of the cause to which they had sacrificed their adult lives. Erika devoted herself to Thomas, managing his public life, editing his books, but poor Klaus was at a loss. He had always felt the temptation of suicide — a temptation to which several of his friends had succumbed — but fought against it for 20 years. Eventually loveless, distanced even from Erika, made wretched by his addiction to the drugs he had once taken so cheerfully, unable to write, he killed himself in Cannes in 1949.
Andrea Weiss finds Erika admirable, the vulnerable Klaus lovable. One can see why; he is very appealing. Too little appreciated in his life — either Auden or Auden’s boy-friend Chester Kallman (one hopes it was Kallman) dismissed him as ‘the subordinate Klaus’ — he now enjoys a
celebrated cult status in Germany. Dissertations are written about him in universities and the recent centennial of his birth was commemorated with radio broadcasts and photography exhibitions.
Post-war Erika found a role in the shadow of the Magician; she died in 1969. Klaus has at last emerged from that shadow, a star in his own right. Most of his books are in print. Here Hesperus has just brought out his 1929 novel, Alexander (£8.99, pp. 213, ISBN 97811843914419) another study of the corrupting consequence of power. His reputation is high. His determination to be his own man, valued for his own work, not as his father’s son, is justified. Too late of course to bring him the satisfaction he deserved to enjoy.
Comments
There are currently no comments for this article.