Search results

IT was not until two years after the War had finished that I felt the inner compulsion to set down my experiences of it. Two years had to pass for me to recuperate from the horrors of those three‐and‐a‐half years. But it was not enough for me merely to write an account because, contrary to the opinion of some literary circles, I believe the value of an account lies in its form. The form creates the characters, and I regard these characters as having a symbolical meaning.

DURING the period previous to the war the German stage took its inspiration from the contemporary dramatists; the theatre and literary production were almost one. Authors like Gerhard Hauptmann and Wedekind, at that time both representatives of modern dramatic art, wrote plays for the five main theatres such as the Deutsche, Hebbel and Lessing Theatre, whilst Ibsen and Strindberg were well introduced on the German stage. Reinhardt frequently availed himself of the plays of Stucken, Schnitzler and Eulenberg, the most popular dramatic authors of that period, whilst the Konigliche Schauspielhaus (Royal theatre) was marked by performances of a more antiquated taste inspired by the Kaiser's conservatism in art. On the whole, it may be stated that the repertoire of all the leading theatres in Berlin was rich and carefully selected. Classical plays, chiefly Shakespeare, were performed and interpreted in the most perfect manner; the same refers to the Russian drama, Stanislawski, Chechow, Tolstoi and Gorki being at that time introduced. Thus the German pre‐war theatre fulfilled a high cultural mission because the author was interpreted in the sense and spirit of his works, plays being selected for the sake of art, and not of sensation or monetary profit.

OUT of the chaos of war and the further burdens immediately “peace broke out” came at least one glorious birth—the German novel. 1870—the German nation; 1919—the German novel…. Superficially, the antithesis is not without truth; at no time could it be said that pre‐war Germany kept pace with its Gallic and English neighbours in achieving great masterpieces of fiction: the pre‐war German novel, indeed, was popularly about as non‐existent as drama in Scotland or poetry in France. Nor, where it did exist, was its form other than merely plastic,—the conventional “novel of manners,” for instance, if it was really desired at all, seemed continually to be eluding Germany. Pre‐war novel writing Germany, in a word, was a complete paradox—Gilbertian and Chestertonian at the same time; for the very theories which might have been requisitioned to account for this strange phenomenon seem themselves of an almost contradictory nature.

PEOPLE are always asking me to tell them something of the tendencies of the modern theatre: as if it were possible for anyone to account for the countless manifestations of a form of expression that is anything but scientific! To ask such a question is to show a lamentable ignorance of art, for never has it been possible to indicate the tendencies and evolution of any form of art that was in any way worthy of the name. I do not say that the theatre, as understood in some countries to‐day, does not reveal certain marked tendencies, but I am certain that any theatre that deliberately sets out with any given tendency is doomed to failure. I am a sworn enemy of tendencies or schools of thought. Artistic creation must be born spontaneously. It must spring unconsciously from the mind and the creative artist must never know what he is striving after. Art is a work of fantasy. It is elfin and wayward. It follows no masters and has no axe to grind. If the dramatist ever attempts to utilise the stage as a pulpit he is doomed to failure, for art always exacts a heavy toll from any man who thus prostitutes it.

Our South African correspondent writes:—Considerable damage has been done to the University Library of the Witwatersrand as the result of an extensive fire which destroyed a large part of the collection and the building. The Library was, in the course of the past year, in process of reorganisation….. A plea for closer co‐operation between the libraries of South Africa was made by Mr. Percy Freer of Johannesburg at a meeting of the Witwatersrand and Victoria Branch of the South African Library Association. Mr. Freer said that most of the libraries were concentrating on particular subjects, and it was desirable that all libraries should be able to draw on the resources of each other. He suggested that the following libraries should function as regional centres with a view to relieving pressure on the National Central Library: the South African Public Library (Cape Town), Bloemfontein (operating with Kimberley), Maritzburg (with Durban), Johannesburg, Bulawayo and Port Elizabeth. The headquarters of the National Central Library itself should be attached to the State Library at Pretoria. A union catalogue and other bibliographical aids were desirable…. Dr. Gie (Secretary for Education) has been urging teachers to have a greater regard for books. He had been astonished to learn from recent investigations that many teachers not only did not read current books and periodicals regularly, but did not keep in touch with current topics through the newspapers. He advised teachers to assist in setting up libraries and centres where they did not exist.

“With a host of furious fancies, whereof I am commander …” Thus might R. D. Macleod announce himself in the office, charging the atmosphere with vitality. To be middle‐aged was very Heaven. The hardships and struggles of youth were behind him: the terrors and trials and loneliness of old age as yet unknown. But all was not sweetness and light. He had the true Celtic temperament,—up in the heights, down in the depths,—and on other mornings he might come in heavy with depression, and the atmosphere be laden with his ill‐humour. The office was that of a library department of W. & R. Holmes, to whom R. D. was consulting librarian.

Many years ago a thrifty house‐wife presided over a men's boardinghouse near the campus of a well‐known American university. Often while planning daily menus, the hard pressed matron would appeal to her houseboy, “What shall we serve for dessert?” He persistently recommended, “Ice cream and cake,” but she invariably rejected this extravagant proposal, derisively reminding him, “The boys don't like ice cream and cake.” Then, with painstaking concern, she would judiciously select tapioca, chocolate pudding, or some other gelatinous concoc‐tion. Since all the young college students had ravenous appetites and greedily consumed anything set before them, they always confirmed the sagacious selections of the frugal dame. When anyone asked her what college boys liked most for dessert, she had her time‐proven answer, “Tapioca”. She knew that “the proof of the pudding is in the eating.”

This paper's purpose is to show how literary texts can be used as a source for gaining insights into social practices, including accounting. It aims to deepen our understanding of such social practices in their cultural, social, economic and political contexts by examining portrayals of business and accounting transactions and of reflections of social and economic concerns in two German novels set during a time of economic and political crisis, namely the Weimar Republic's hyperinflation period.

The paper analyses, against the historical, social and economic backgrounds of the inflation period, the novels' authors' social and political perspectives as reflected in the novels; the literary devices employed; the way in which the description of business and accounting matters aids our understanding of everyday inflation period transactions and underlying economic and social concerns; and the links made between accounting/business, money and inflation on the one hand, and morality and rationality on the other hand.

The paper finds that in this exceptional economic situation, the relationship between accounting and morality as explored by Maltby is reversed. The portrayal of (often unusual and creative) economic transactions is used to illustrate the lack of economic, legal and moral certainty experienced by individuals and to evoke and critique the damage caused by the hyperinflation on German society and on human relationships, including the commoditisation of all aspects of life and the resulting moral decline.

The paper contributes to the literature exploring the role of representations of business/accounting and finance in narrative fiction. The novels examined here provide an alternative means for observing, interpreting and critiquing social phenomena, specifically in a setting where financial considerations dominate human interaction and social relationships.