The importance of storytelling, and specifically narrating the stories of history, is central to the themes of Crabwalk. The narrator is a journalist, a profession dedicated to transcribing the factual records of meaningful events and educating the public about issues which affect their lives. Throughout the novel, the narrator occasionally speaks directly to the reader about a man who presses him for the details of this story. At the beginning of chapter 8, for instance, the narrator comments that “He, who claims to know me, contends that I don’t know my own flesh and blood.” Presumably, this unnamed man who continually questions the narrator in order to move the story forward is Günter Grass himself; therefore, the author is able to insert himself into the story as his narrator reveals the tragedies of his life. This encourages active metacognition, which is the ability to think about, and challenge, one’s own thinking—a fundamental takeaway of the novel.

In this way, the author encourages the reader to question the stories of history and to approach historical memories with integrity. The historical facts upon which this fictional story is constructed are presented with a sense of detachment, allowing the reader to consider questions of guilt, honor, and tragedy without being intentionally swayed to emotionally connect with any particular “hero” or “victim.” Interestingly, the sinking of the Gustloff was deliberately concealed for many years, likely to further the political interests of both the Germans and the Russians at the time. This is a reminder that the stories of history can be used as political propaganda to further the interests of governments, even at the expense of the memories of those who have suffered and perished.

The narrator also employs a technique he calls “crabwalking” in order to tell his story. The events do not progress in a linear trajectory; instead, each of the main stories involving Wilhelm Gustloff, Tulla Pokriefke, and Konny Pokriefke emerge alongside each other as the narrator “crabwalks” back and forth through time. This nonlinear construction places Konny’s pain in close visual proximity to David Frankfurter’s actions, reminding readers again and again that the conflicts of history continue to influence modern struggles. Konny is not removed from the conflicts of the past simply because he was born generations later; instead, his own conflict is dependent on the actions of the Nazi Party, of David Frankfurter, and of his grandmother Tulla. As the narrator “scuttles” like a crab among the characters who represent different generations of pain, he carves out a path that demonstrates how their pain is connected.

Konny’s use of the internet reflects the distortion of storytelling that has become prevalent in modern society. Unlike the factual and detached narrative which the narrator presents through Crabwalk, Konny uses the internet to propel a specific political lens. The internet is used to engage in hateful speech, to seek out alliances and thereby delineate an “opposition,” and to create opportunities for violence. While Konny includes historical details in his online work, those details are used to bolster his own sense of self-righteous disdain toward those who don’t agree with his views. While Konny’s conflict coincides with the early days of the internet, modern readers will recognize the increasingly varied ways that the internet is being used to spread a variety of propaganda across the globe. In this way, it seems that technology complicates the veracity of storytelling, shading truth behind hidden intentions. In fact, the University of Oxford recently published a study which asserts that “social media manipulation of public opinion is a growing threat to democracies around the world.”