Ferdinand, the Man with the Kind Heart by Irmgard Keun (1950)

After World War II Germany adjusts to a new world order.

Book Review: Ferdinand, the Man with the Kind Heart was the last novel published by Irmgard Keun (1905-82), but it did not capture the immediacy and moral twilight of the time as did her previous novels. Three of her four earlier novels are favorites of mine: Gigli (1931), The Artificial Silk Girl (1932), and Child of All Nations (1938), with After Midnight (1937) not far behind. All great reads well worth finding. The story amiably wanders about, with no particular arc or story line, and no particular sense of tension, conflict, or urgency. The reader's next page will be much like the previous one. While the writing is uniformly charming and witty ("He's no more clever than  a politician or a bunny rabbit"), with continual injections of sarcasm, irony, and cynicism punctuated by dark humor ("I don't see her as a loose, immoral person as a genius of forgetfulness"), it's not particularly compelling. For me that made for slow reading. There are some, but not many overt comments about the social and political situation in Germany after the war during the occupation, though in a sense the novel itself is that commentary, even if circumscribed. Keun seemed to be holding back as she didn't do in her earlier books. At one point a character states, "The books that are most in demand are the ones that people think will be improper." This isn't an improper book. There's even less comment about what happened during the war, which makes for an odd and uncomfortable silence. At least for non-German readers it doesn't much illuminate the situation. But Keun is willing to go for the absurd: "Versifying noodle-makers are avid for real estate." Our eponymous hero in Ferdinand, the Man with the Kind Heart bumbles through the chaos of the post-war years, trying to survive, trying to help others, trying to be a good person. He meets many colorful characters trying to do the same thing. The link between Ferdinand's various encounters and events and the national situation isn't sharp or obvious. Keun isn't writing allegory. One could call it a picaresque novel if much of anything happened, and if Ferdinand weren't so generally wholesome. Although told from Ferdinand's point of view, we don't get a good grasp of his personality, as he's somewhat vague, amorphous, hard to pin down. He certainly doesn't arouse the the level of sympathy and involvement as did Keun's earlier desperate heroines. Ferdinand, the Man with the Kind Heart is wonderfully, cleverly, and humorously written. "Why don't the occultists understand that if that's what they wanted, then spirits would come of their own accord?" Unfortunately, the lack of plot and absence of dramatic tension limited the charm of the meandering storyline for me. Readers who can thrive without plot will find much to enjoy here.  [3½★]