[In the following essay, Kuhn discusses Wolf's critical reception and provides an overview of her complex identity as an East German female writer, drawing attention to her interrelated political, feminist, literary, and personal perspectives.]

In the twenty-six years since her emergence as a writer of imaginative literature, Christa Wolf has become one of the leading figures of German letters and the foremost female voice of the German-speaking world. Inherently political, her writing is both subtle and subversive. As she has matured, her themes have become more complex and the problems she addresses broader. The increasing universality of her writing, the immediacy and compelling relevance of her most recent works have helped earn her the international reputation she enjoys today. The East German writer of the early 1960s has evolved into a writer of world stature in the eighties. Abandoning the Socialist Realism that had influenced her early works, Moscow Novella (1961) and Divided Heaven (1963), Christa Wolf established a distinctive style and set of concerns with The Quest for Christa T. (1968) and Patterns of Childhood (1976).

These novels were at first severely criticized in the German Democratic Republic (GDR) both for their complex experimental form and for their unorthodox subject matter. Christa T.'s claim to the right of individual self-fulfillment within the socialist collective and the narrator's need in Patterns of Childhood to come to terms with her Nazi past (from which the GDR totally dissociated itself) were considered taboo subjects. In the interim, the reception of Christa T. has changed radically—today the book is viewed as a classic, aimed at strengthening the socialist state through internal criticism.¹ It remains to be seen whether Patterns of Childhood will enjoy a similar rehabilitation.

In 1976 the dissident poet Wolf Biermann was expatriated, abruptly ending a period of liberalization that had begun in 1971, when Erich Honecker lifted all taboos for truly committed socialist writers at the Eighth Party Congress. Perhaps the precarious political situation in the GDR following Biermann's expatriation prompted Wolf to camouflage her social criticism in historical subject matter. Set in 1804, No Place on Earth (1979) portrays the fictitious encounter between the Romantic poets Heinrich von Kleist and Karoline von Günderrode, whose alienation and unhappiness obviously parallel the experiences of some citizens of the GDR—including Wolf, for whom Biermann's exile and its aftermath precipitated a crisis. In her portrayal of these writers, both of whom committed suicide, Wolf treats the role of gender in their dilemmas and thus foreshadows concerns specifically addressed in Cassandra (1983).

Two trends are discernible in Wolf's work to date: a movement away from the present into the past in terms of subject matter, and an increasing concern with women's issues, particularly the role of the woman writer. These two trends converge in Wolf's feminist reinterpretation of the Cassandra story, in which Wolf moves into mythical times to continue her criticism of contemporary society.

The critical reception of Christa Wolf has been unique. No East German author has been as widely discussed by critics in both German states and in the United States. In the two Germanies, critics agree that Christa Wolf is a significant writer. With respect to particular works, however, the critical reception of Wolf in the Federal Republic has been almost the obverse of that in the German Democratic Republic. Molded by the Cold War politics of the fifties and early sixties, the ideological bias of most German criticism has led critics to praise or censure her works according to their opinion of the GDR and their perception of Christa Wolf's relationship to the socialist state. Critics in both countries, however, interpreted her first major work, Divided Heaven, in terms of the prevailing GDR aesthetic of Socialist Realism. This established a precedent that prevailed long after it ceased to be appropriate. The explicitly political theme of Divided Heaven predetermined the response to her later, less easily defined works. While noting the more personal tone of Wolf's second novel, The Quest for Christa T., most German critics in both countries continued to interpret it and its successor, Patterns of Childhood, preeminently in the political context of GDR literature.

The reception of Christa Wolf's work in the context of GDR society and politics has tended to obscure the extent to which Christa T. marks a turning point in her writing. Political interpretation of her middle works in particular, by understating the utopian dimension of her more subjective writing, has caused Wolf's latest works to appear as greater anomalies than they are. While No Place on Earth disrupts the overtly autobiographical mode of Wolf's earlier works, the novel develops themes that have played an important role in Wolf's writing since Christa T. Indeed, even Cassandra, which uses myth to criticize patriarchal values and to reevaluate the literary canon, sustains a continuity with her earlier works through its criticism of both East and West and through its evocation of a utopian alternative.

Recent American feminist critics do not stress the GDR contextual aspect of Christa Wolf's writing, but instead see her in terms of feminist politics. The specifically female aspect of Wolf's writing, overlooked by (predominantly male) German critics, has been the focus of scholarship by women. Feminist scholarship has illuminated the problematic relationship of the woman writer to language in a patriarchal world, and has noted the interrelationship between the articulation of female subjectivity (the theme of the “difficulty of saying ‘I’”) and Wolf's narrative techniques. The chief virtue of this scholarship, in addition to making readers sensitive to gender issues in Wolf's writing, has been to point to the potential for a more formalistic, linguistically oriented approach to her works and to establish the methodological framework for such an investigation. However, to the extent that it focuses on the subjective experience of the female individual to the exclusion of the broader socio-historical and cultural context, this feminist scholarship is also reductionist.

Although Wolf is sometimes treated in the context of “New Subjectivity,” her work differs from this West German literary movement of the seventies in that, despite the psychological depth of her characters, despite her emphasis on personal experience, she never presents subjective experience in a vacuum. Instead, the individual subject is always presented in a dialectical relationship with the larger social community. This relationship finds its linguistic expression in the shift between the individual (“I”) and the collective (“we”) voice in Wolf's texts. Just as Wolf speaks not merely for herself but also, and quite consciously, for her generation, her use of first-person narrative ensures at once specificity and typicality.

While the GDR context-related and the feminist avenues of inquiry have yielded the most fruitful insights into Wolf's work, each approach in itself is inadequate for a proper understanding of her complex and sophisticated writing. Christa Wolf is an East German woman writer and consideration must be given to each facet of her identity if one is to do justice to her work. Just as Wolf scholarship has often tended toward reductionism, it has also failed to clarify the interrelatedness of Christa Wolf's entire œuvre. As on a giant tapestry, strands from one work are interwoven into the next as new ones are being spun that connect with future works. This intermeshing is not limited to matters of content but includes formal aspects of Wolf's writing as well, making it virtually impossible to treat any of her works in isolation. Proceeding chronologically, I use a close textual analysis to examine Christa Wolf's fiction and essays as they interrelate. While I do not attempt to analyze each text exhaustively, I follow some of the strands of Wolf's literary tapestry, arguing that her work expresses the integration of the various aspects of her identity. (The following focus on each of the aspects of Christa Wolf's self-understanding is merely a heuristic device for placing her work in context and understanding the problems it presents. Indeed, the distinctions between aspects are artificial and cannot be sustained even in this introduction.)

East German woman writer: The highly politicized nature of literature in East-bloc countries means that any discussion of Christa Wolf must be framed in the context of the national and cultural politics of the GDR. A member of a society that experienced the imposition of socialism from above, Wolf enthusiastically embraced Marxism and has worked toward the realization of Marxist humanist ideals in GDR praxis. Augmenting her literary engagement with political commitment, she has been an active member of the Socialist Unity Party (SED = Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands) and for several years was a candidate for a position in the ruling Central Committee.²

Clearly Marxist theory, by providing her with the tools for an economic analysis of history, helped Wolf to understand what had happened in Germany between 1933 and 1945. More importantly, however, Marx's vision of an egalitarian, nonexploitative community filled her with hope. Like many of her compatriots, Wolf saw in socialism the means for achieving a qualitatively new and morally superior social order that would help prevent a repetition of recent German history by transforming human beings from objects into subjects of history.³ Over the years, however, Wolf has become more and more critical of the form of socialism that has evolved in the GDR and increasingly more sceptical about her society's ability to implement the revolution in social relations necessary to create subjects of history.

Yet while Wolf's œuvre can be read as testimony to her increasing disenchantment with her society, she is still a member of the Party, chooses to live in the GDR, and remains committed to the ideals of socialism as conceived by Marx. The theme of the coming-into-being of human subjectivity (das Subjektwerden des Menschen) so central to her work and her insistence on individual self-actualization within the collective are compatible with Marx's vision of free social individuality within a communal society. The discrepancy between Marxist theory and the often repressive reality of the GDR has not destroyed Wolf's faith in the possibility of human community. In her recent works, in which she continues to examine modes of human objectification and alienation, Wolf has explored the feminist critique of Marxism. By analyzing patriarchal attitudes (still prevalent in the socialist East) and their destructive effects on both sexes, she has created works that make a universal appeal. In particular, her lament that reason has been perverted to mere utilitarian pragmatism and her fear that the East, by mimicking the West, by failing to repudiate instrumental rationality, has failed to present a viable alternative to this self-destructive world view, has immediate global relevance. The urgency of Wolf's argument, her belief that the lack of a viable alternative may well lead to the annihilation of humankind, is particularly compelling in light of recent world political events and may explain the enormous popularity she has attained in the past several years.

Despite their often bleak subject matter, Wolf's works never end in despair. Indeed, one of the salient features of her writing is the quiet optimism of even her most critical works. The element of hope in Wolf's writing stems largely from her Marxist perspective. Although Christa T., Karoline von Günderrode, Heinrich von Kleist, and Cassandra succumb to the lack of livable alternatives, Wolf holds fast to her belief in socialism's capacity to change human consciousness and to create such alternatives. She shares the socialist faith in literature's power to teach. But more than that, she has a fundamental faith in human beings and their ability to learn from the experiences of her characters. Literature for Wolf allows both the writer and the reader to play through possible (self-)destructive scenarios vicariously. Although many of Wolf's figures die because they cannot exist in the societies into which they are born, all remain uncompromising in their quest for self-actualization. The implication that, given a different, more humane social order, these figures could survive, is clearly meant as an incentive to readers to attend to aspects of their society impeding the development of human subjectivity. Thus Wolf's work keeps alive the hope of a humane socialism, even as it records the betrayal of contemporary socialism in the GDR.

One of Wolf's deepest commitments is to the emergence of nonalienated subjectivity as formulated by Marx. Perhaps the most serious obstacle to this is the GDR's self-deceptive attitude toward its National Socialist past. Marx believed that the basis of humane community was a revolution in social relations, which would allow people to see others as independent subjects and not merely in relation to themselves, that is, as objects. This community is predicated on the idea of reintegrative subjectivity. On the one hand, individuals must be able to recognize their objectification of and by others in order to overcome alienation and to attain mutual subjectivity, mutual regard for one another as human subjects. On the other hand, they must be able to empathize with one another's situation in order to experience a sense of their shared humanity. Yet clearly the ability to recognize another's subjectivity presupposes an individual's psychic integration. In the GDR, official Party policy has inhibited the process of psychological integration by effectively severing its citizens from their personal history. By calling the populace victims of National Socialism rather than its collaborators, it has prevented East Germans from becoming reconciled with their past and has fostered self-alienation, a phenomenon Wolf addresses most eloquently in Patterns of Childhood. Wolf's concern with achieving a heightened self-awareness as a prerequisite for overcoming alienation makes the question of Vergangenheitsbewältigung (a coming to terms with the Nazi past) an urgent one for her. Indeed, it informs her writing in Patterns of Childhood.

In order to understand the significance of Vergangenheitsbewältigung for the Germans, it will be helpful to recall their situation in 1945. At the end of World War II, a defeated, divided, and morally bankrupt Germany faced the task of rebuilding its cities, reconstructing its economy, and reassessing its history. The economic miracle (Wirtschaftswunder) of the Adenauer era and the Marshall Plan transformed the Federal Republic of Germany into the industrial and economic leader of Europe, and the German Democratic Republic emerged as the most prosperous Soviet-bloc country. Yet the accomplishment of overcoming seemingly insurmountable economic obstacles pales when compared with the task still facing the East and West German states and their people: the need to confront the National Socialist past.

The occupation forces addressed the issue of moral culpability in the upper echelons of the Nazi party through the Nürnberg War Trials (1945–6), but such uniform, immediate, and direct action was not possible in the case of the populace at large. The Allies had agreed that a denazification program was needed. However, after the confrontation between the Western and Eastern powers (1947) and the escalation of the Cold War, methods for purging Nazi elements and for implementing reeducation programs varied in the four occupied zones. The French, British, and American sectors, operating with the concept of collective guilt, set up an elaborate bureaucracy for denazification that lagged behind the more rigorous and consistent measures of the Soviets.⁴ In the Soviet sector the removal of former Nazi party members from public life (including the dismissal of more than 20,000 teachers in 1945), coupled with the institution of a “law for the democratization of the German school,”⁵ that is, a centralized school system reform, ensured that education reinforced reeducation. Yet the Soviets, who had originally subscribed to the Allied concept of collective guilt, increasingly distanced themselves from this view as East and West moved toward an ideological division of Germany.

With the founding of the GDR on 7 October 1949 (in response to the creation of the Federal Republic on 21 September 1949) came an official severance of the East Germans from their Nazi past. Since its socialism was not the result of a revolution from below but had been imposed by Soviet occupation forces, the GDR felt obliged to legitimize itself by evoking the liberal legacy of 1848 and the social democratic heritage of the Weimar Republic (1918–33) and by creating the myth of wide-scale anti-Nazi resistance in the Third Reich. Viewing itself as the continuation of a progressive German tradition brutally crushed by the National Socialist state, the GDR accepted the Soviet definition of the Russian invasion as the liberation “of the German people from the yoke of fascism.”⁶ By casting its citizenry in the role of victims, the Party obviated the need to assess its immediate past and to assume responsibility for Hitler and the atrocities committed between 1933 and 1945. Rather than examining the events of the past, the GDR chose to develop the new socialist society, substituting the concept of the “scientific-technological revolution” for the revolution in social relations envisaged by Marx, that is, exchanging means for ends. Particularly in its early Aufbau phase, the period of socialist development and consolidation (c. 1949–61), it concentrated on changing the means of production. This reductionist view of socialism, prevalent long after the removal of the economic exigencies that had confronted the emerging socialist state, has been a frequent target of Christa Wolf's criticism.

Christa Wolf was sixteen years old in 1945. She belongs to the generation that experienced the transition from Nazism to socialism, an experience that not only shaped her but that also constitutes an important theme of her early and middle works. Her autobiographical novel, Patterns of Childhood, records the decisive experiences of her early years. Born in 1929 in Landsberg on the Warthe River, approximately 130 kilometers northeast of Berlin,⁷ Wolf grew up in the Third Reich. Patterns of Childhood reconstructs her childhood under Nazism and records the traumatic break in her life caused by the invasion of the Red Army; her family's flight West; and her experiences under American, French, and Soviet occupation forces. By explicitly addressing the taboo issue of Vergangenheitsbewältigung, which had always implicitly informed her literary writing, Wolf was psychologically able to leave behind the inquiry into personal history that had characterized her writing. Delving ever further back in time, she was able to develop new narrative forms through which to examine broader historical contexts in their relationship to contemporary society.

Very much a product of her transitional generation, Wolf has treated, in literary and essayistic works as well as in interviews, the difficult and lengthy process of reassessment and reorientation that confronted her and her contemporaries after the war. Not until autumn 1948,⁸ two years after graduating from the Gymnasium in Bad Frankenhausen near Schwerin, where her family had relocated, did Christa Wolf read her first Marxist work. Her encounter with Marxist thought and the subsequent rise of her socialist consciousness precipitated a fundamental reassessment of values.

Wolf's humanistic vision of socialism was intensified by her studies at the University of Leipzig (1949–53). In Leipzig, then the leading intellectual center of the GDR,⁹ Wolf studied with the eminent Germanist Hans Mayer. Mayer was a Marxist thinker in the Hegelian dialectical tradition, a Third Reich émigré recently returned to the German socialist state. It is one of the tragic ironies of GDR history that thinkers like Hans Mayer and the philosopher Ernst Bloch (also lecturing in Leipzig at the time), people whose concern with the humanistic potential of Marxism might have helped implement a socialist order closer to the Marxian model, were among those attacked as revisionists.¹⁰ With the erection of the Berlin Wall in August 1961, it became palpably clear to Mayer and Bloch that their vision of socialism could not soon be realized in the GDR, and they emigrated once again. Just as Mayer and Bloch were unable to endure the discrepancy between Marxist theory and GDR praxis, the tension between socialist ideal and reality was to become of increasing concern for Christa Wolf.

East German woman writer: Wolf's identity as a German is inextricably bound to the GDR's national self-understanding and its cultural politics with regard to the German tradition. Orienting itself politically in accordance with the Soviet model of communism, the GDR declared 1945 as a historical cesura and 1949 as the beginning of a qualitatively new social order. The official aesthetic governing literary production, Stalinist Socialist Realism, was deemed a necessity of cultural politics; its objective was to help develop and consolidate socialism in the GDR. Socialist Realism provides the mimetic theory of art with a socialist telos. That is, it holds that the purpose of art is to record social dynamics and conflicts from the perspective of the ultimate triumph of socialism. The doctrines of Socialist Realism, as articulated at the first congress of the Soviet writers’ union in 1934, were appropriated in toto by the GDR. The four main precepts are: (1) the primacy of industrial production for society, hence a devaluation of portraying the private sphere in favor of the world of work in artistic production; (2) a mandate for the creation of positive heroes, portrayed as actively engaged in the socialist struggle, as the norm; (3) a call for socialist literature to appropriate critically its “classical heritage” (klassisches Erbe); (4) the positing of the inherently didactic function of literature which, by rendering a “truthful presentation of real life,” is meant to effect an “ideological transformation and education of working people in the spirit of socialism.”¹¹ Adherence to this restrictive aesthetic, with its insistence on Parteilichkeit (alignment with Marxist-Leninist Party policy) and on an ideologically conceived category of typicality (positive hero as norm, as an allegory of the State) severely inhibited or excluded nonmimetic experimental forms of literary production, bred homogeneity and sterility, and engendered fierce literary debates on the theory of realism.

This barren literary aesthetic was overturned by the Hungarian-born critic Georg Lukács. Until the Hungarian uprising in 1956, when he was deposed, Lukács enjoyed virtual intellectual hegemony in questions of literary realism in the GDR. He was responsible for broadening the parameters of the realist canon in the postwar period to include works by nonsocialist writers. His contribution to the realism debate must be assessed in the context of GDR cultural politics, which aimed at establishing the continuity of the German intellectual and literary tradition. To this end, literary historians evoked the humanistic heritage of the Weimarer Klassik (the classical period of Goethe and Schiller, c. 1786–1832) and engaged in lengthy debates as to which works of presocialist German literature were to be admitted into the new socialist canon (the Erbediskussion). Introducing the concept of “critical realism,” which he opposed to Socialist Realism, Lukács entered the debate and reoriented the realist aesthetic toward the bourgeois novelists of the nineteenth century—Balzac, Dickens, and Tolstoy as well as Theodor Fontane and Thomas Mann. Lukács's concept of “totality,” the basis of his theory of realism, enabled him to include writers who would otherwise have been condemned as late-capitalistic decadents. In Lukács's view, the great realists of previous eras were such masters at capturing the social dynamics of their particular society in its contradictory totality that unintentionally, by sheer virtue of their genius, they illuminate the irresolvable contradictions in their societies and thus point to the inevitable downfall of capitalism.

While Lukács's work greatly enhanced the realism debate in the GDR, it effectively stifled formal innovation through its anachronistic orientation and rejection of modernistic literary trends. Although the concept of totality allowed Lukács to reject certain mimetic art forms such as naturalism as the merely superficial reflection of external reality, his mandate for “objectivity” caused him to repudiate nonmimetic, subjective, “irrational,” “solipsistic” movements such as Romanticism, Impressionism, and Expressionism. After Stalin's death (1953) Socialist Realist norms were ironically more—not less—rigorously enforced than before, and Lukács fell into disrepute as a revisionist. Only very recently has the GDR begun to reevaluate its position on writers excluded from Lukács's canon, the Romantics and modernist writers such as Kafka.¹² Thus it is obvious why Christa Wolf, who experimented with narrative perspective as early as Divided Heaven and has incorporated a number of modernist writing strategies, has thwarted her socialist critics. A further obstacle has been her insistence on active reader participation in the (re)constitution of the text, a phenomenon that is anathema to Socialist Realism's call for “objectivity.” In place of Socialist Realism's emotional identification with typical characters, Wolf places intellectual demands on her readers, expecting them to fill in the lacunae of the text. While reader response theories of literature gained some currency in literary discussions in the late fifties and early sixties,¹³ the concept of subjectivity remains problematic in the GDR to the present day. The rejection of individual (as opposed to class-based) subjectivity has been detrimental to the reception of Christa Wolf's works in East Germany, where her work has been criticized as “subjectivistic.”

Wolf's study of German language and literature familiarized her with the socialist canon. Her career as a literary critic ensured that she was conversant with the nuances of GDR realism and the Erbediskussion debates.¹⁴ Her contribution to the Erbediskussion, the reclaiming of the literary past, in No Place on Earth and her essays on the Romantics Karoline von Günderrode, Bettina von Arnim, and Heinrich von Kleist constitute important documents in the history of GDR literary reassessment and establish her as a writer in the German tradition. Subject matter for both No Place on Earth and the short stories written in the mid-seventies comes from Romanticism; more important, however, is the similarity between the formal and theoretical concerns of Romantic literature and those of Christa Wolf. Although Wolf's aims are somewhat different from those of the German Romantics, she, like them, writes about the act of writing; presents an open literary structure as an antiauthoritarian gesture; involves the reader in the creative act; and stresses that the lessons of creativity and self-determination learned from literature can be applied to life.

In essays and discussions, Wolf has stressed the importance of literature for her life, a fact to which her literary texts also bear witness. In addition to French and Soviet writers, her works reverberate with echoes from German writers as diverse as Goethe, Schiller, Thomas Mann, Robert Musil, Theodor Storm, Bertolt Brecht, Max Frisch, Novalis, Heinrich von Kleist, Sophie von La Roche, Bettina von Arnim, Karoline von Günderrode, Ingeborg Bachmann, and Anna Seghers. Clearly, Christa Wolf is acutely aware of her German heritage. In discussing Wolf in the context of the German literary and philosophical tradition so essential for her work, one must explore the ramifications of that tradition for the self-understanding of the GDR, just as one must consider Wolf's constantly evolving relationship to Marxism and to GDR praxis.

East German woman writer: With the exception of the sensitively drawn male figures of Manfred in Divided Heaven and Kleist in No Place on Earth, Christa Wolf's work deals almost exclusively with female experience. In Moscow Novella and Divided Heaven, Wolf does not explicitly differentiate between male and female experience, and her protagonists are developed in their relationships to men. Insofar as the dilemmas confronting her female characters were representative for both men and women under socialism, female experience seemed universally applicable. In Christa T. and Patterns of Childhood, male behavior is no longer viewed as the norm, and female consciousness is developed primarily in relationship to other women. Increasingly, Wolf has posed the question of self-actualization, fundamental to her work, in terms of women's possibilities in a patriarchal society. The initial generic treatment of her utopian theme has become ever more gender specific as she has delved further back in time for the roots of alienation. Wolf's feminism has evolved from her Marxist critique of scientific Marxism and can be viewed “not as an alternative to Marxism but as a qualitatively new and autonomous dimension that is a prerequisite for its renewal.”¹⁵

In her short story “Self-Experiment: Appendix to a Report” (“Selbstversuch: Traktat zu einem Protokoll,” 1973), Wolf first explicitly articulates a feminist perspective. By setting the action in the year 1992 she is able to express her criticism of socialist patriarchy indirectly. But the science fiction context is a thin veil: Wolf's criticism is clearly aimed at present-day GDR society, specifically at the crippling effects of a misguided concept of reason. The female protagonist, a scientist whose identity has been defined by her male-dominated profession, agrees to undergo a drug-induced sex transformation. Her qualitatively different perceptions of the world as a man convince her of the oppressive limitations of masculinity. She breaks off the experiment and demands to be changed back into a woman.

In her male incarnation the scientist recalls that “city” for her female self meant “an abundance of constantly disappointed hope constantly renewing itself. For him—that is, for me, Anders—it was a tight cluster of inexhaustible opportunities.”¹⁶ Yet rather than viewing the privileged male existence as liberating, s/he experiences it as restrictive. In contrast to the holistic,¹⁷ mediating female way of appropriating the world that infuses external fact with subjective response, the male mode of existence is based on the dichotomous opposition of self and external reality. The lack of interaction between subject and object is seen to foster fragmentation, objectification, alienation, problems in communication, and ultimately the inability to love.¹⁸

An anthology of interviews with women from the GDR, conducted by Maxie Wander, appeared in 1978.¹⁹ Abandoning the typical question-and-answer format, Wander edited herself out of the interviews and allowed each woman to present herself directly. The result is a series of individual, highly personal monologues that, because they are directed at and incorporate the interviewer, take on a dialogic structure. Guten Morgen, du Schöne (Good Morning, You Beauty) constitutes an important document in GDR social history. Here women ranging in age from sixteen to seventy-four speak with remarkable candor about all aspects of their lives. They talk about their hopes and their fears, their pain and their joy, their successes and their failures, both in the workplace and in their intimate relationships. Lack of intimacy with their mates and stress resulting from the double burden of meeting domestic and professional expectations are recurrent themes of the book. What these interviews make abundantly clear is that the equality before the law that women in the GDR enjoy in no way ensures social or domestic equality. Instead, the women testify to the persistence of patriarchal patterns of thought and behavior in both the public and the private sphere, almost forty years after the founding of the socialist state. At the same time the book attests to the women's resistance to the current situation, a longing for a more egalitarian community in which all human needs can be met.

Christa Wolf wrote an introduction to Guten Morgen praising Maxie Wander's ability to encourage female self-expression and thanking her for giving a voice to these women, who would otherwise have remained silent. The essay “Touching”²⁰ enabled Wolf to continue her deliberations on gender-specific appropriation of the world. In it she identifies “sympathy, self-respect, trust, and friendliness” as “characteristics of sisterliness,” a phenomenon she considers to be more prevalent than brotherliness, and she offers “unreserved subjectivity” as a possible means for social renewal, for overcoming alienation. The presence of supraindividualistic qualities—“longing, challenge, claim to life”—in these interpersonal texts by women strikes Wolf as heralding utopian community.²¹ Through her concept of “touching” Wolf identifies a specifically female epistemological stance that, by regarding its object with understanding and sympathy, offers an alternative to positivistic objectivity.²² “Touching” enables these women to transcend the limits of their own subjectivity by incorporating into it another's subjectivity. Through empathy they are able, however briefly, to transform the other into a subject, hence to overcome their own alienation. Thus “touching” as transformative subjectivity adumbrates Marx's social individual.

In her literary (No Place on Earth) and essayistic²³ investigations of the German Romantics, Wolf further elucidates her feminist concern. Focusing on the utopian thought of the woman Romantics who longed for the possibility of a radically different, nonalienated human community, Wolf exemplifies her concept of “touching” and sisterliness. The ability to love is viewed as a female attribute, while the otherwise very different figures of Kleist, Savigny, and Friedrich Creuzer illustrate the severe emotional inadequacies common to men.

In Cassandra, male inability to love culminates in Achilles’ necrophilia. Cassandra, Wolf's most feminist work, is literally radical. Not content to criticize contemporary self-destructive bellicosity in East and West, Wolf traces male aggression back to its source in patriarchy. Searching for the roots of dystopia, Wolf has been led further and further back in time as she has sought to uncover the origins of the petrified social structures that bring about alienation. Finally in Cassandra a utopian vision based on a matriarchal model replaces the earlier Marxist one as Wolf, through her reinterpretation of the Cassandra story, calls into question the foundations of male-dominated Western society, advocating the development of a (female) aesthetic of resistance to counteract the self-destructiveness of the patriarchy.

In addition to her feminist critique of patriarchy, Christa Wolf has helped recoup the writing of Karoline von Günderrode and sought to establish the existence of a female literary tradition in Germany. Recently, in the essayistic commentary to Cassandra, she has reflected on the existence of a female aesthetic and deliberated on the sociopolitical ramifications of such an aesthetic, especially on its potential for helping to create the alternatives needed for human survival.

East German woman writer: As a writer living in the GDR and writing primarily, though no longer exclusively, for the GDR public,²⁴ Wolf both enjoys certain privileges and faces the strictures encountered by all East-bloc writers. Officially the GDR does not exercise censorship; that is, there is no bureau of censorship. In fact, however, all literary production is under state control.²⁵ Fear of censorship and possible expatriation²⁶ are concerns for the GDR writer who seeks to express unorthodox views. All too often genuine material exigencies such as paper shortages serve as a pretense for outright silencing or for less obvious forms of censorship such as limited editions and delayed publication. The publication history of Christa T.,²⁷ as well as the excision from Cassandra of unconditionally pacifist passages and overt criticism directed against Warsaw Pact nations, indicate that Christa Wolf has had to contend with external censorship.

By her own admission she has also practiced a demoralizing self-censorship. Understood as a mechanism by which individuals living in totalitarian systems develop an exact sense of how far they can go without offending authority, self-censorship was inculcated into Wolf as a child growing up in the Third Reich. To the degree that she has become conscious of it, Christa Wolf's work can be read as an attempt to overcome this internal censorship.

Not merely a spokesperson for her society but also one of its most rigorous critics, Christa Wolf has become increasingly iconoclastic. The more she has violated the taboos of her society, the more she has had to discover means of articulating her criticism within the programmatic prescriptions for literary production placed on the GDR writer without compromising her integrity. This has led to indirect expression of criticism in historically distanced works such as No Place on Earth and Cassandra and at times to an opacity bordering on the obscure, such as in the story “Unter den Linden” (1974).

As compensation for some of the disadvantages described above, socialist writers, by virtue of their more integrated role, enjoy advantages of intellectual community virtually unknown to their counterparts in the West. Not only is there an intense interchange among members of the intelligentsia (writers, literary critics and scholars, editors and publishers are engaged in a continuous dialogue), but writers in the GDR play an important role for the populace at large. The dichotomy between “high” and popular literature characteristic of capitalist economies does not exist in East Germany, where the politics of publishing has led to the conflation of “high” and popular literature. Thus officially designated “classics” are often also runaway best-sellers.²⁸ Moreover, the voracious reading appetite of the populace²⁹ ensures that successful writers are a household word. For Wolf the integrated function of the socialist writer, the self-definition derived from work, the security that emanates from the sense of being needed³⁰ are weighty considerations. “Being needed” (gebraucht werden) is a theme that traverses Wolf's work and informs the creation of characters whose definition of self is derived from love and work.

In contrast to the outsider position to which German writers had traditionally been relegated—a “ghettolike internal realm of beautiful appearance”³¹—the GDR from the outset sought to liberate writers from their ivory tower existence and to make literature a public forum. The GDR's understanding of itself as a Literaturgesellschaft, a term coined by the country's first minister of culture, the poet Johannes R. Becher, points to a dialectic between literature and society and to the importance assigned to literature in cultural politics. Becher believed that literature was not only meant to advance the process of democratization and socialization in the newly established socialist state; it was also to serve as the agency for the self-understanding, the coming-to-consciousness of the populace. Ultimately it contributed to the perfectibility of a people, that is, of humankind within socialist society.³² Literature in the GDR is conceived of as a nonelitist, democratic institution, based on an active communication among writers, readers, and producers of books. Its avowed goal is the inclusion of the working masses in the process of a literary production whose aim is the emancipation of all involved.

Again, there is a difference between theory and praxis. To counteract discrepancies between its ideal of a Literaturgesellschaft and the reality of a pervasive party organization and a hierarchy in social and communicative relations, in 1959 the Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands (SED) initiated the Bitterfeld Conference. Intended to unify the intelligentsia and workers and to break down the distinction between art and life, the so-called “Bitterfeld Way” sought to implement the motto of the Fifth Party Conference of the SED (July 1958): “sozialistisch arbeiten, lernen und leben” (socialistic work, learning, and life) and to advance the literary presentation of working conditions in factories. To assure authenticity, writers were encouraged to enter factories and work in brigades to obtain first-hand knowledge of working conditions. Alternatively, under the motto: “Kumpel, greif zur Feder, die sozialistische Nationalkultur braucht dich!” (comrade, take up the pen, the socialist national culture has need of you), manual laborers were called upon to document everyday conflicts, setbacks, and achievements in the sphere of economic production. Together the writer-worker and the worker qua writer were to help develop a socialist national culture and to break down hierarchical distinctions.

The goals of the Bitterfeld Way were difficult to realize. Writers were reluctant to enter factories, and the cultural revolutionary impulses spurred by the program, such as workers’ cultural clubs, the “circles of writing workers” (Zirkel schreibender Arbeiter), as well as the brief renaissance of the proletarian-revolutionary literature of the Weimar Republic, could not be sustained.

The years 1960–4 brought a revision in cultural politics that relegated workers to the sphere of material production and again measured literary production according to classical bourgeois norms. At the second Bitterfeld Conference (1964) it was clear that the GDR was more concerned with economic production and scientific-technological progress than with the development of a working-class culture. The possibilities for a broad-based mass cultural movement inherent in the Bitterfeld experiment were not realized; by the mid-sixties the professional writer was again firmly ensconced in an élite position. Nonetheless, its significance as an attempt to put socialist theory into practice should not be minimized.

GDR literary theory, which developed as an outgrowth of the Bitterfeld Conference and defined artistic creation not merely in terms of the writer's production but also in terms of the text's reception by the reader,³³ was to have far-reaching implications for Christa Wolf's work. In contrast to the autonomy concept that informs the aesthetic of l'art pour l'art, Socialist Realism, as didactic art, posits a dialectic between the author and the reader-recipient. Thus the relationship between the reader and the writer that constitutes the basis of Christa Wolf's reflections on literary theory, as articulated above all in her essay “The Reader and the Writer,” has its roots in the socialist aesthetic that shaped her early works. Insofar as post-Bitterfeld theory conceived of mimesis not as a mere copy of reality but as a model through which essential social processes were made manifest in the hope of making the reader more receptive to the progressive forces of socialism,³⁴ it exerted a lasting influence on Christa Wolf. Much as she has distanced herself from Socialist Realism, all her works retain the modellike structure of this aesthetic.

Similarly, Wolf's innovative contribution to a socialist aesthetic, her focus on authorial subjectivity, can be seen as a response to the theoretical goals³⁵ of the Bitterfeld Way and the concrete situation of the writer in post-Bitterfeld society. Wolf rejects as impossible the notion of “objectivity” considered requisite for realist art. In her view, the basis of realist literature (to which she insists that all her work belongs)³⁶ is experiential, hence subjective. For her, literature is created through the appropriation of external reality by the author/subject and the transformation of that experienced reality into art. Wolf's focus on the individual in her works and her insistence on the primacy of subjective experience have been influential in changing the official Party stance toward subjectivity in literature.

Beginning with Christa T., the work that established her own unique style, Wolf has accompanied her literary writings with essayistic and verbal commentary. She has introduced the concept of “subjective authenticity”³⁷ to describe her personal moral engagement as an author in her literary production. Subjective authenticity can manifest itself, as in Christa T. and Patterns of Childhood, through the introjection of authorial consciousness into the literary text or, as in No Place on Earth and Cassandra, as essayistic commentary that illuminates the text and clarifies the relevance of the material for its maker. As the concept of “subjective authenticity” makes clear, all of Christa Wolf's writing is ultimately autobiographical. In her early and middle works, the correlation between authorial biography and fictional narrative is more readily apparent than in her later narratives, where authorial subjectivity tends to be displaced into essays that elucidate the fictional texts. By creating an interdependence between personal, subjective essayistic commentary and the literary text, she undermines traditional generic categories and breaks down what she considers to be an artificial distinction between life and art.

The unique position Christa Wolf enjoys today, both in her own country and in the West, is largely due to the moral integrity she has displayed in her personal life and in her writing. Pursuing questions of personal conscience, she has criticized not only the policies of the West but increasingly those of the East as well. She has relentlessly scrutinized her own behavior and that of her compatriots and has refused to compromise her ethical standards, even when they have brought her into conflict with Party policy. As a consequence, she has come to be regarded as a voice of public conscience. Clearly Wolf's national and international reputation affords her special status within the GDR. Thus while the Party has the ultimate authority, Christa Wolf has become a force to be reckoned with. And that she is forcing a reckoning can be seen in her recent bout with the censors. Wolf insisted that the excised passages in the East German edition of Cassandra be marked by ellipses to signal censorship to her readers—and she prevailed, an unprecedented victory for a GDR writer.³⁸

Ironically, Wolf's position in the GDR today is the outgrowth of another function that often falls to literature in socialist countries: in the absence of an open public sphere, political and social issues are often debated in the literary arena. The symbolic, multivalent nature of literary language, as opposed to more restrictive and ideologically charged political discourse, allows for greater freedom of discussion of volatile issues. Thus literature, which officially has a proselytizing function, can simultaneously serve as an impetus for implementing internal reform. The socialist writer's dual function as proselytizer/supporter and critic means that she walks a fine line between the accepted, the acceptable, and the taboo. A morally responsible writer such as Christa Wolf, who is acutely aware how precarious her situation is, has helped extend the boundaries of the accepted and the acceptable as she has ventured ever further into the realm of the taboo.

Notes

1. This recent assessment (1983) was related by Christa Wolf's husband, Gerhard Wolf, during a lecture and discussion on GDR poetry at Ohio State University (3 June 1983).

2. The Socialist Unity Party was created in the GDR in 1946 when the Communist Party (KPD) merged with the Socialist Party (SPD). The SED nominated Wolf to the list of candidates for the Central Committee in 1963. In 1967 she was removed from the list by the Party leadership for coming into conflict with them over cultural political issues.

3. Wolf's Marxism continues to be guided by anthropological concerns; her focus remains on the individual and on the possibility of developing all aspects of one's personality. While we know very little about her excursions into Marxist thought, we do know that the first Marxist work she read was Engels's essay “Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy.” Christa Wolf, “Zu einem Datum,” in Lesen und Schreiben (Darmstadt/Neuwied: Luchterhand, 1972), p. 52. Judging from her concern with human self-actualization, one can conclude that the early Marx of the Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844 and the Marx/Engels of Theses on Feuerbach and The German Ideology had the greatest impact on her.

4. Frank Trommler, “Kulturpolitik der Nachkriegszeit,” in Kulturpolitisches Wörterbuch: Bundesrepublik Deutschland/Deutsche Demokratische Republik im Vergleich, ed. Wolfgang R. Langenbucher et al. (Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 1983), p. 409.

5. This law was based on the pedagogical reform of the Weimar Republic and drawn up by exiles of the Nazi regime. Trommler, p. 412.

6. From the inscription on the Soviet war memorial in East Berlin, erected 1949.

7. Biographical information on Christa Wolf is scarce. The following data are gleaned from Alexander Stephan, Christa Wolf (Munich: C. H. Beck, 1976), pp. 7–22, 161–2, and Jack Zipes, “Christa Wolf: Moralist as Marxist,” Introduction to Divided Heaven, trans. Joan Becker (New York: Adler's Foreign Books, 1974), pp. xi–xxx.

8. Wolf, “Zu einem Datum,” p. 52.

9. Not only had the university attracted eminent Third Reich émigrés who had chosen to return to East rather than West Germany, but the founding of the GDR Literary Institute (1955; renamed the Johannes R. Becher Institute in 1959) aimed at developing the literary talents of writers culled from the working and peasant classes, ensured that Leipzig would become an important literary center as well.

10. For many years critics assumed Wolf had read Bloch's works and/or attended his lectures during her years in Leipzig because of echoes of Blochian utopian thought in her writing. Recently, however, Wolf has denied that she was familiar with Bloch's work until well after completing Christa T. See editor's note in Christa Wolf Materialienbuch, ed. Klaus Sauer, 2nd, revised edn (Darmstadt/Neuwied: Luchterhand, 1983), p. 115. In a letter to me dated 13 January 1986, Wolf reiterated that she had not read Bloch until very late in her career. The similarities between Wolf's work and Bloch's philosophy of hope, his emphasis on subjectivity and on the everyday, and his call for humankind to assume the ethical posture of “the upright stance” (der aufrechte Gang) are so striking that one must speculate that the main tenets of Bloch's utopian thinking had become common intellectual currency. Wolf was perhaps exposed to them indirectly, either through Hans Mayer, who while Christa Wolf was studying in Leipzig was engaged in an intense debate with Bloch, or at some later period. See Andreas Huyssen, “Auf den Spuren Ernst Blochs: Nachdenken über Christa Wolf,” in Christa Wolf Materialienbuch, pp. 99–115, for a discussion of parallels between Bloch's philosophy and especially The Quest for Christa T., and Klaus K. Berghahn's recent article, “Die real existierende Utopie im Sozialismus. Zu Christa Wolfs Romanen,” in Berghahn and Hans Ulrich Seeba, eds., Literarische Utopien von Morus bis zur Gegenwart (Königstein: Athenäum, 1983), pp. 275–97, for a broader analysis of Bloch's significance. Far from overstating the importance of Bloch's thought for her œuvre, Wolf scholarship has not yet explored its full significance.

11. David Bathrick, “Geschichtsbewusstsein als Selbstbewusstsein. Die Literatur der DDR,” in DDR-Literatur, ed. Klaus von See, vol. 21, Neues Handbuch der Literaturwissenschaft (Wiesbaden: Akademische Verlagsgesellschaft, 1979), p. 274. Bathrick quite rightly points out a fallacy informing this aesthetic, namely the tacit assumption that everyone knew what “real life” was and that the writer would be guided by this knowledge.

12. For a discussion of the reevaluation of Romanticism in the GDR, see Patricia Herminghouse, “Die Wiederentdeckung der Romantik: Zur Funktion der Dichterfiguren in der neueren DDR-Literatur,” in Jos Hoogeveen and Gerd Labroisse, eds., DDR-Roman und Literaturgesellschaft, pp. 217–48 (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1981); Herminghouse, “The Rediscovery of Romanticism,” in Studies in GDR Culture and Society, vol. 2, ed. Margy Gerber et al. (Washington, DC: University Press of America, 1982), pp. 1–17.

13. See Peter Uwe Hohendahl, “Ästhetik und Sozialismus: Zur neueren Literaturtheorie der DDR,” in Literatur und Literaturtheorie in der DDR, ed. Hohendahl and Patricia Herminghouse (Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp, 1976), pp. 103–14; 123–38 for a discussion of the reception, criticism, and influence of Western literary theory.

14. Her dissertation, “The Problems of Realism in the Work of Hans Fallada,” treats a novelist who was a progressive social critic of the Weimar Republic. The study shows that she was familiar with current theories of literary realism. In her work as editor, she rigorously applied Party line norms. In essay and discussions Wolf has recalled restrictive aspects of her study of German literature. She believes that her literary studies retarded her emergence as a creative writer.

15. Helen Fehervary and Sara Lennox, Introduction to Christa Wolf, “Self-Experiment: Appendix to a Report,” trans. Jeanette Clausen, New German Critique 13 (Winter 1978): 112. I am indebted to Fehervary and Lennox for my reading of this story.

16. Christa Wolf, “Self-Experiment: Appendix to a Report,” trans. Jeanette Clausen, New German Critique 13 (Winter 1978): 113–31, here 122. “Anders,” the protagonist's new name, means “different, other.”

17. This holistic appropriation of reality by the female subject would also account for the significant role played by illness in Wolf's work. In Moscow Novella, Divided Heaven, Christa T., Patterns of Childhood and No Place on Earth her protagonists respond to external events by becoming ill. In Cassandra the response is madness. In each case the etiology of illness and madness is a situation that is emotionally intolerable to the woman. In a talk delivered at a conference of medical doctors in October 1984, Christa Wolf argued that particularly for women, illness is often psychosomatic, arising from a feeling of not being loved. She urged doctors not merely to treat physical symptoms, but to explore the psychological roots of these illnesses. Published as “Christa Wolf. Krankheit und Liebesentzug. Fragen an die psychosomatische Medizin” in Neue deutsche Literatur 34/10 (October 1986): 84–102.

18. Fehervary/Lennox, Introduction to “Self-Experiment,” p. 111.

19. Guten Morgen, du Schöne (Berlin, GDR: Buchverlag Der Morgen, 1978). West German edition Luchterhand, 1978.

20. Also published in Christa Wolf, Fortgesetzter Versuch: Aufsätze, Gespräche, Essays (Leipzig: Reclam, 1982), pp. 312–22.

21. Christa Wolf, Fortgesetzter Versuch, p. 312. My translation.

22. Sara Lennox, “Trends in Literary Theory: The Female Aesthetic and German Women's Writing,” German Quarterly (Winter 1981): 71.

23. “Der Schatten eines Traumes” (Shadow of a Dream, 1978), written as an introduction to an anthology of the work of Karoline von Günderrode by the same name; “Nun ja! Das nächste Leben geht aber heute schon an” (Yes indeed! But the next life starts today!, 1979), written as an afterword to the recently reissued biography of Günderrode by Bettina von Arnim (both essays appear in Fortgesetzter Versuch); and an essay on Heinrich von Kleist's Penthesilea (1982) written as an afterword for a new edition of the play (Berlin, GDR: Buchverlag Der Morgen, 1983), pp. 157–66. Also published in a volume of fiction and essays on Romanticism by Christa Wolf and Gerhard Wolf, Ins Ungebundene gehet eine Sehnsucht: Gesprächsraum Romantik (Berlin/Weimar: Aufbau, 1985), pp. 195–210.

24. Since Divided Heaven Wolf's works have appeared both in the GDR and in the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) and have been translated into English within a relatively short period of time. Since No Place on Earth Wolf has been published simultaneously in the GDR and the FRG.

    Publication history of Wolf's major works:

    Divided Heaven: GDR (Mitteldeutscher Verlag: 1963)

    FRG (Rowohlt: 1968)

    USA (Adler's Foreign Books: 1965)

    Christa T.: GDR (Mitteldeutscher Verlag: 1968)

    FRG (Luchterhand: 1969)

    USA (Farrar, Straus & Giroux: 1972)

    Patterns of Childhood: GDR (Aufbau: 1976)

    FRG (Luchterhand: 1977)

    USA (Farrar, Straus & Giroux: 1984)

    (originally published as A Model Childhood, 1980)

    No Place on Earth: GDR (Aufbau: 1979)

    FRG (Luchterhand: 1979)

    USA (Farrar, Straus & Giroux: 1982)

    Cassandra: GDR (Aufbau: 1983)

    FRG (Luchterhand: 1983)

    USA (Farrar, Straus & Giroux: 1984)

    Störfall: GDR (Aufbau: 1987)

    FRG (Luchterhand: 1987)

    In a recent interview about No Place on Earth (1982), Christa Wolf admitted that she was no longer readily able to distinguish between letters from East and West German readers. Describing an experiment she sometimes does, namely reading her mail without checking the return address, Wolf said she frequently could not tell if a letter was from the Federal Republic or from the GDR. According to her, “apparently there's a similar need that the texts respond to. Often, by the way, they are similar people—I meet them at public readings. There's a similar human type that's neither East nor West German, GDR or FRG. Rather, it's a type, usually a young person, with very specific expectations that aren't ‘divided.’” Christa Wolf, “Culture is What You Experience—An Interview with Christa Wolf,” trans. Jeanette Clausen, New German Critique 27 (Fall 1982): 98.

25. Wolfgang Emmerich, Kleine Literaturgeschichte der DDR (Darmstadt/Neuwied: Luchterhand, 1981), pp. 20–1; 29–32.

26. The freedom of expression of GDR writers at any given moment is dependent upon the political climate. The cause scandaleuse expatriation of the vociferously critical but committed socialist poet and songwriter Wolf Biermann is the most recent testimony to the GDR's unwillingness to countenance internal criticism.

27. Publication of the book was delayed a year. According to Wolf, Christa T. had been completed for a year when she started to write “The Reader and the Writer,” published in 1968, the same year as Christa T.; see “Die Dimension des Autors” in Christa Wolf, Fortgesetzter Versuch: Aufsätze, Gespräche, Essays (Leipzig: Reclam, 1982), p. 78. Moreover, there is speculation that a large part of the original GDR edition was sold to the West (see Heinrich Mohr, “Produktive Sehnsucht. Struktur, Thematik und politische Relevanz von Christa Wolfs Nachdenken über Christa T.,” in Basis: Jahrbuch für deutsche Gegenwartsliteratur, vol. 2, ed. Reinhold Grimm and Jost Hermand (Frankfurt/Main: Athenäum, 1971), 217, footnote 20. There are also vast discrepancies in reports regarding the actual number of copies printed in the first edition of Christa T. (estimates range from 500 to 15,000 copies). This first edition sold out almost immediately. A second edition was not printed until 1972. See Dieter Sevin, Christa Wolf: Der geteilte Himmel; Nachdenken über Christa T.: Interpretation (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 1982), p. 62, footnote 54.

28. This is true, for example, of the anti-Nazi novels Das siebte Kreuz (The Seventh Cross, 1939/42) by Anna Seghers and Nackt unter Wölfen (Naked Among Wolves, 1958) by Bruno Apitz. It is, however, also increasingly true that more controversial works, including those of Christa Wolf, are enjoying the greatest popularity.

29. GDR writers have a larger readership relative to population, hence a more significant public voice. For a discussion of the book and publishing industry in the GDR, see Emmerich, pp. 21–6.

30. The reprisals against Biermann's supporters following his expatriation seriously called this assumption into question and precipitated a crisis in Christa Wolf, which found its expression in No Place on Earth.

31. Robert Minder, quoted by Emmerich, p. 19. The following overview of the GDR as Literaturgesellschaft is indebted to Emmerich, pp. 19–33.

32. As Emmerich has pointed out, Becher's statements reflect not only the perspective of classical critical Marxist thinkers such as Rosa Luxemburg but also the utopian legacy of Enlightenment Idealist thought (Emmerich, p. 20). This dual legacy plays an important role in Christa Wolf's work.

33. See Horst Redeker, Abbildung und Aktion: Versuch über die Dialektik des Realismus (Halle/Saale: Mitteldeutscher Verlag, 1966).

34. Hans Georg Hölsken, “Zwei Romane: Christa Wolf ‘Der geteilte Himmel’ und Hermann Kant ‘Die Aula,’” Deutschunterricht 5/21 (1969): 64.

35. It remains an open question whether the literary praxis of Socialist Realism corresponds to the theory arising out of Bitterfeld.

36. Unpublished public discussion with Christa Wolf at Ohio State University, 2 June 1983.

37. Christa Wolf, “Die Dimension des Autors,” discussion with Hans Kaufmann, Fortgesetzter Versuch, p. 83.

38. Heinrich Mohr, “Die zeitgemässe Autorin—Christa Wolf in der DDR,” in Erinnerte Zukunft—II Studien zum Werk Christa Wolfs, ed. Wolfgang Mauser (Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 1986), p. 47.