Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization in Richard Wagner’s Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld Anca Luca Holden University of Massachusetts, Amherst Abstract: This article traces the transformation of German-Romanian cultural identity in communist Romania and West Germany in Richard Wagner’s Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld (1991), two texts that fictionalize the author’s own experience of marginalization, migration, and integration. Despite fundamental ideological, political, economic, and cultural differences between communist Romania and capitalist West Germany, the two governments display similar practices of marginalizing German-Romanians based on biological, territorial, and state-centered concepts that betray the processes of exclusion through which they are articulated. By means of a close reading including discussions of Wagner’s innovative literary techniques and communist and post-communist Romanian and German history, this article analyzes how in communist Romania the German-Romanian cultural identity becomes fragmented to the point of being almost annihilated, while in West Germany Wagner’s character successfully negotiates triangular identity paradigms which combine elements of Banat-Swabian, Romanian, and West German languages and cultures, calling for a reevaluation of the “Germanness” of German literature and cultural identity. Keywords: migration, language, cultural identity, politics of marginalization, exclusion, homogeneity, resistance Richard Wagner (b� 1952), the acclaimed Banat-born German-Romanian writer, distinguishes himself in contemporary German literature with texts that draw attention to categories of newcomers to Germany such as ethnic Germans (particularly from Romania), East-Central Europeans, and former GDR citizens� An outspoken critic of the crimes of totalitarian regimes, especially the abusive 42 Anca Luca Holden treatment of ethnic Germans in communist Romania, Wagner also tackles several relatively under-explored aspects of the Holocaust like the genocide of the Roma, for example. While he examines the past, Wagner also scrutinizes the present. The effects of migration, displacement, consumerism, commodification of culture, and materialism on the formation of cultural identity in post-communist Eastern Europe and post-unification Germany are recurring themes in his literary works� As part of the generation of ethnic German writers that emerged in the 1960s and 1970s in communist Romania, Richard Wagner and Herta Müller, his then wife, were referred to as Rumäniendeutsche both in Romania and after they immigrated to West Germany. The term Rumäniendeutsche was coined in the early 1950s because of the growing nationalism in communist Romania and the government’s inherent leveling, marginalization tendencies, and forced assimilation (Motzan, “Die vielen Wege in den Abschied” 108). Betraying the political motivation behind its invention, this collective label ignored the fact that ethnic Germans who lived in various territories in Romania had distinct histories and cultures. Attempting to distance itself from one culture (German) and prove its allegiance to the other (Romanian), rumäniendeutsche Literatur was actually in a “vielstrapazierte Sondersituation,” also described as a “Zwitterstellung” or a “Niemandsland” owed to its “in-between” position at the crossing of divergent political and cultural spaces (Csejka, “Über den Anfang” 17; “Bedingtheiten” 45). Yet despite its precarious political, cultural, and literary position in communist Romania, German-Romanian literature took center stage thanks to the authors of the literary circle Aktionsgruppe Banat , one of the most important dissident groups in Romania, co-founded by Wagner� Rejecting the idea that literature had an exclusively autonomous-aesthetic function, the Aktionsgruppe focused on promoting the sociopolitical function of their texts in particular and of literature in general. Unlike many who protested against Ceauşescu’s regime by turning to Western capitalist models for counsel and refuge, this group of authors, while denouncing the character of Ceauşescu’s nationalist communism, upheld Western Marxist principles based on ideas and theses of the Frankfurt School and aspired to Wagner calls a “Sozialismus mit menschlichem Antlitz” (Wagner, “Die Aktionsgruppe Banat” 122). Yet by employing literature as a tool of aesthetic resistance against Ceauşescu’s regime and by criticizing the antiquated Banat-Swabian Regionalliteratur , especially its ethnocentrism, the Aktionsgruppe became “eine Minderheit in der Minderheit,” as Wagner put it (Solms 298). Consequently, the group became the object of harsh criticism by both the communist regime and the Banat-Swabian community� Given its open criticism of the communist regime, the Aktionsgruppe was dissolved in 1975, only three years after its inception. Due to the incongruities Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 43 between Marxist ideals and Ceauşescu’s socialism, which culminated in an era of terror and totalitarianism spurred by the dictator’s nationalist communism and his personality cult, one by one, all the members of the Aktionsgruppe emigrated to West Germany� Wagner and Müller emigrated in 1987 along with other writers when interference by the Securitate became unbearable. The cultural, linguistic, and political challenges that Wagner and his fellow authors faced in West Germany and their efforts to reinvent themselves are recurring themes in their post-emigration writing� Even though Wagner succeeded in escaping the politics of marginalization of the communist regime, to his utter dismay, he was subjected again to tactics of marginalization in West Germany� Like other German-Romanian authors, Wagner perceived himself as a political exile and not as a typical Aussiedler or Heimkehrer because for him resettling in West Germany meant not a return to the Heimat, but a mere “Ortswechsel” (Neau 129). 1 Reflecting on the paradox of simultaneously belonging to and being a stranger in West Germany, Wagner argues that, for him, “Germany” is not a territorial concept but a cultural one because his conceptualization of “Deutschland” was always that of a “Kulturnation” opposed to a territorial state (qtd. in Rock, “’A German Comes Home’” 67). 2 The struggle of having to disclose and defend one’s “German identity” in addition to the contradiction of being part of the cultural notion of “Germany” and yet a stranger to the territorial concept of “Germany” are central themes in Wagner’s works� 3 In this article, I trace the transformation of German-Romanian cultural identity in communist Romania and West Germany in Wagner’s Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld by exploring some of the politics and tactics of marginalization in the two countries� Despite fundamental ideological, political, economic, and cultural differences between the communist and capitalist governments, I show that the two systems display similar practices of marginalizing German-Romanians based on biological, territorial, and state-centered concepts that betray the processes of exclusion through which they are articulated (Cooper 494). I analyze Wagner’s innovative literary techniques that include fragmented sentences, white spaces, unconventional punctuation, splits and intermingling of narrative voices, surrealist dreams, and the use of untranslated Romanian terms and phrases, and argue that, while in communist Romania the German-Romanian cultural identity becomes fragmented to the point of being almost annihilated, in West Germany, Wagner’s characters successfully negotiate triangular identity paradigms which combine elements of Banat-Swabian, Romanian, and West German languages and cultures� Calling for a reevaluation of the “Germanness” of German literature and cultural identity, Ausreiseantrag. 44 Anca Luca Holden Begrüßungsgeld contests cultural definitions of “Germanness” and challenges concepts about a homogenous German language, culture, nation, and identity� When Wagner immigrated to West Germany in 1987 with Herta Müller, he brought with him a manuscript that he managed to smuggle over the border (Wagner, “Lehrjahre” 45). Wagner published it as “Ausreiseantrag” in 1988, which was followed by “Begrüßungsgeld” in 1989. In 1991, the two texts were published in one volume: Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld . Both “Ausreiseantrag” and “Begrüßungsgeld” feature the same central character, the Banat-Swabian journalist Stirner, one of Wagner’s many alter ego figures since his biographical details closely resemble those of Wagner’s himself (Rock, “’From the Periphery’” 132, Jackman “Alone in a Crowd” 157). Set in a large city (most likely Timişoara) in the Banat in the 1980s, “Ausreiseantrag” records the events that lead Stirner and his wife, Sabine, to file an application to emigrate to West Germany. “Ausreiseantrag” captures historical events as well as economic and political aspects of daily life in communist Romania, giving the text a documentary character. Stirner’s blunt criticism of Ceauşescu and his regime and his coded language make “Ausreiseantrag” a “text for the drawer.” Wagner’s stylistic devices render “Ausreiseantrag” a politically subversive text that succeeds in unmasking the repressive apparatus of Ceauşescu’s dictatorship and its devastating impact on Romania’s population in general, and on ethnic Germans in particular� Narrated “through the optic of a single consciousness,” “Ausreiseantrag” depicts the bleakest period of Ceauşescu’s dictatorial rule, when food rationing was introduced, and heating gas and electricity blackouts became the rule ( Jackman 158)� During this time, artists and writers were forced to abide by the strict ideological prescriptions of Socialist Realism and to dedicate their works to singing the praises of the “glorious” achievements of the party and of its “beloved leader.” Stirner joins the Communist Party hoping to change something from the inside. Ceauşescu’s dictatorship, though, shows him that socialism is in effect working for the “‘abstract’ human through the systematic destruction of the ‘concrete’ human being: the individual” (Miroiu 107). As the communist regime turns him into a “Regimegegner” and a “Staatsfeind,” Stirner becomes doubly marginalized, as a writer and an ethnic German ( Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld 62). Like many artists and intellectuals in his situation, Stirner first cultivates a split identity separating his public life from his private interests� At his day job, he produces articles that fulfill the Party’s ideological expectations to some extent, while in private he writes “für sich selbst [und] für seine Bücher” (7). Stirner’s desperate efforts to keep his job at a newspaper that subscribes to the Party’s politicized aesthetics and his futile struggle to find a language of expression and an audience for the texts and subjects that interest him are accented by Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 45 the gradual fragmentation of his sense of cultural identity, which is paralleled by his loss of spatial and linguistic mobility. The structure and language of “Ausreiseantrag” masterfully reflect the fragmentation processes, disorientation, and isolation that Stirner experiences. Episodes that depict Stirner’s inner agony alternate with snapshot-like fragments that illustrate the dire material shortages that people around him have to put up with: a woman and her child gather moldy bread from a pile of garbage, people in outdated or worn-out clothes take their Sunday walks among cement apartment complexes, or, like Stirner, stand in endless lines to buy eggs, salami, frozen chickens, and butter. Most of these scenes are brief. Recorded on separate pages with white spaces, they interrupt the narrative that depicts Stirner’s thoughts and actions. Their distinct Verfremdungseffekt emphasizes Stirner’s growing alienation and isolation in the bleak atmosphere of the prison state� Maintaining a split identity becomes problematic as the newspaper increasingly pressures Stirner to produce articles that disseminate the Party ideology� While his boss instructs him on how to write in a manner that would serve the interests of the regime, Stirner is shocked to learn that his texts are supposed to show the achievements of the communist party and work like a “Pille” whose effects should become evident only after the readers swallow it (24). Stirner’s personal drama is intensified by the fact that the regime has occupied both the Romanian and the German languages (41)� While he feels a deep aversion towards Romanian, because as the “Staatssprache” it has become a powerful manipulation instrument of the regime, German, like Romanian, also shows the effects of communist indoctrination. Stirner learns about the alarming extent of the contamination of the German language when Sabine reports her challenges in the Romanian school where she teaches German as a foreign language� Instead of introducing her students to patriotic poems and concepts of the communist jargon like “Planübertreibung” and “Landwirtschaftliche Produktionsgenossenschaft,” Sabine teaches words like “Salz,” “Aprikose,” and “Ente” (37). As such, a fellow ethnic German teacher denounces Sabine to the principal complaining that she does not comply with the Party’s ideological prescriptions (37). The deep effect of the communist indoctrination is evident when one of Sabine’s students confronts her defiantly after she skips a patriotic poem: “Genosse Lehrerin, warum haben wir dieses Gedicht übersprungen? ” (38). For a while, Stirner is a tolerated author whose “Selbstzensur” has become like a virus: “Man schreibt, und das Virus schreibt mit. Frißt sich langsam in den Text” (57, 76). Stirner’s books are heavily censored and while other authors whose patriotic poems are published on quality paper, one poem per page, Stirner’s poems are published on cheap paper; several to a page (57). The small number of volumes that Stirner is approved to publish disappear very quickly 46 Anca Luca Holden from the bookstores, which prompts him to wonder if the rumor that the Securitate (the Romanian Secret Police) buys and pulps the books of tolerated authors is in effect true (59). Even if the rumor is false, Stirner is still concerned with who his readers are, since his language and topics reflect only the interests of a small number of nonconformists within the German ethnic minority and an even smaller number of Romanian intellectuals who can read and understand German� Pressed by his boss at the newspaper to write about the achievements of factory workers and peasants, Stirner defies the regulation, an attitude which makes him true to his name “Stirner,” which is a pun on the German idiom “jemandem die Stirn bieten” (Rock, “’From the Periphery’” 126). Attempting to come up with his own topic, Stirner leaves the ideology-infested city to go to a small town in the country, only to discover disturbing evidence of heavy communist indoctrination� Back in the city, Stirner is again under the heavy influence of communist ideology. As a result, he experiences a growing inner paralysis and cultural disorientation, which are illustrated by his decreased linguistic and physical mobility. After he stops writing, Stirner is shown moving minimally within confined spaces such as offices, waiting rooms, small apartments, and restaurants. The only place where he still hopes to engage in vivid intellectual, critical conversations is the House of the Writers� However, when he visits this cultural center, he is struck by the isolationist attitude of his fellow writers: “Alle wollten unter sich bleiben, billig essen und ungestört über ihre Belange reden. Wie in einem Séparée” ( Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld 45). The metaphor of the private room is, in Stirner’s view, symptomatic of the indifference and isolationist attitude prevalent in the entire country: “Das ganze Land schien Stirner aus solchen Séparées zu bestehen� Keiner sah den anderen� Alle sahen auf die Bühne […]. Sie saßen in Séparées, jeder seiner Bedeutung bewußt, und von Séparée zu Séparée gingen wie Kellner die Leute von der Staatssicherheit” (45—46). Stirner’s growing alienation is best illustrated by a surrealist nightmare that is reminiscent of episodes from Kafka’s Der Prozeß. In his nightmare, Stirner finds himself in a “verschachtelte” building in Bucharest, Romania’s capital (42). While desperately trying to find the room where he is scheduled to hold a reading, Stirner is horrified to realize that the building is located in a cemetery. He further discovers in an open tomb a naked couple having sex, and on another grave, he finds parts of his lost luggage from which his manuscript is missing. After looking for the meeting room for a long time, Stirner finally arrives in a room full of people, some of whom he knows, but who do not notice his presence. Their talking is indistinguishable, like a babble and hum of voices, which Stirner cannot make any sense of (42—43). Stirner’s acute linguistic alienation Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 47 is paralleled by his increased spatial disorientation. Like the “Séparées” at the House of the Writers, the layout of this curious room, which has many outlets but no exit, is yet another metaphor for the state in which Stirner feels increasingly as a captive (45—46). Most discouraging for Stirner is the fact that respected writers have turned into “Rädchen im System der allegemeinen Repression” (100). As “Stempelinhaber” and “Unterschriftenmaler” the writing activity of these authors has been reduced to the issuing of reports and denunciations (100)� Unable to produce ideologically suitable material for the newspaper, Stirner is eventually fired. The dismissal letter issued by the editorial desk is syntactically the most fragmented text in “Ausreiseantrag.” This letter illustrates the despicable hypocrisy of Ceauşescu’s regime: dismissed employees were ordered to write their own resignation letters so that there would be no material proof that the institution, and by association the regime, was responsible for the firing. Stirner is no exception; he is also ordered to write his own resignation letter: “Weil Sie. Nicht nachgekommen. Und auch. Nicht. Ihren Aufgaben. Sehen wir. Keine andere. Lösung. Als uns. Von Ihnen. Zu. Trennen. Ab ersten Dezember. Wir stellen Ihnen frei, selber zu kündigen� Wenn Sie das nicht tun, sehen wir uns genötigt. Laut Paragraph. Sie zu entlassen” (70). The unconventional punctuation marked by the numerous periods confer a staccato tone to this passage and are not arbitrarily inserted. Placed after certain words, they show the absurdity of the letter’s content. Unable to find employment, Stirner walks aimlessly through the city streets feeling increasingly alienated and isolated. For a while, he attempts to write about what he sees and hears in the streets� As he watches people and listens in on their conversations, he hopes to find “den Sinn der Welt” but discovers instead “die Gosse in den Köpfen” (75). He listens in on people’s conversations and jokes in Romanian, which he then tries to translate into German (79)� Disappointed, he realizes that the German translations cannot capture the “Reiz” that the Romanian dialogues and jokes have (79). Consequently, as a writer, Stirner feels linguistically and culturally ever more like an “Ausländer” (79). Stirner’s growing linguistic paralysis is further accented by his increased disorientation and decreased physical mobility� His strolls through parks, among apartment complexes, and through the city streets are aimless and monotonous. He is shown walking “wie einer, dem man das Ruder entzogen hat” (73). His alienation is further underscored by the unusual effect that street signs and people have on him: he dreads encounters with friends and acquaintances and thinks that the red stop light for cars is aimed at him (74)� Eventually Stirner’s walking resembles the pacing of an inmate in a small prison cell: “Er ging wie 48 Anca Luca Holden ein Gefangener in jenem rundummauerten Gelaß, aus dem man nichts als den Himmel sah. Man war draußen und sah doch nichts von draußen” (104). Stirner experiences his deepest personal identity crisis in his apartment. While rereading love letters he wrote to Sabine years ago, he cannot recognize the handwriting or the man who wrote the letters (90). His acute linguistic paralysis and physical immobility reach a low point when he fails to use the simplest form of communication - his hands: “Er fing an, Zeichen zu machen, Scherenschnitte, wie in der Kindheit, aber er beherrschte die Spielregeln nicht mehr, und so wurde nichts Erkennbares aus dem, was der Schatten seiner Hand zeigte” (92). Due to his isolation and acute disorientation, Stirner and Sabine quarrel often and are unable to distinguish between living and surviving (105). The nadir of Stirner’s linguistic paralysis, which is also a breakthrough, occurs when Stirner is shown giving a speech that borrows phrases and the format from Ceauşescu’s trademark addresses to Party congresses and meetings. Since this speech is in German and has no explanatory footnotes, readers unfamiliar with Ceauşescu’s rhetoric cannot easily, if at all, recognize Stirner’s scheme. Stirner’s speech opens with Ceauşescu’s traditional address “Liebe Genossen und Freunde” [ dragi tovarăşi şi prieteni ] (130). Like Ceauşescu’s addresses, Stirner’s is an amalgam of empty phrases and slogans like: “Mehr denn je ist es notwendig, alles zu tun, um die internationale Solidarität und Zusammenarbeit all jener zu festigen [. . .] denen das Leben, [. . .] der Frieden teuer sind” (130). Similar to Ceauşescu’s speeches, Stirner’s presentation is interrupted by comments like “Starker Beifall” or “Hochrufe und starker Beifall” that are set in parentheses (130, 131). These phrases are literal translations of comments in Romanian like ovaţii şi aplauze puternice that TV anchors and journalists used to describe the allegedly “joyous” atmosphere at the Party meetings and congresses where Ceauşescu gave his speeches. Unlike Ceauşescu, however, Stirner interrupts his own speech with requests for alcoholic drinks. Stirner weaves comments and observations into Ceauşescu’s speech that contradict and criticize the dictator’s empty rhetoric� Stirner’s speech ends with a short summary of Ceauşescu’s falsified political biography, which presents the “glorious leader” as Romania’s most deserving hero. Curiously though, the last phrase of this pseudo-biography, “Die Beisetzung erfolgt heute, um sechzehn Uhr, auf dem Friedhof an der Lippaer Straße,” is a funeral announcement for Ceauşescu, which gives poignant expression to a unanimous desire - the dictator’s death (136). The abrupt change of scenery that occurs after the funeral announcement is marked by two sentences: “Plötzlich spürte Stirner die Stille. Er stand allein auf dem Bahnhofsplatz” (136). This sudden change of scenery indicates that Stirner’s speech was imagined (136). While his speech is a breakthrough from his previous linguistic paralysis Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 49 as Stirner succeeds in mocking Ceauşescu and the regime, he cannot publicly express the thoughts he imagined, and remains caught in a deep cultural and linguistic paralysis� The last scene in “Ausreiseantrag” depicts Stirner reflecting on the economic ordeal that awaits him and Sabine in the approaching winter. His bitter recognition of the submissive lethargy which oppression has produced in the Romanian people prompts him to type an application letter to leave “[d]as schweigende Land” (137). The last three sentences of “Ausreiseantrag” constitute the three opening sentences of Stirner’s letter to the passport and visa service, in which he and Sabine apply for an exit visa to emigrate to West Germany: “Wir stellen hiermit den Antrag zur endgültigen Ausreise. Unsere Gründe sind” (137). Although Stirner does not list the reasons why he and Sabine want to leave Romania permanently, the text of “Ausreiseantrag” has done just that. “Begrüßungsgeld,” the sequel to “Ausreiseantrag,” depicts Stirner and Sabine in West Germany, where they discover that their claim to “German” identity is contested. Categorized as foreigners due to their accent and antiquated vocabulary, they must demonstrate, perform, and defend their “Germanness.” Titled after the welcome stipend offered by the government to Aussiedler , “Begrüßungsgeld” marks the protagonists’ transition into a new society, in which money is one of the predominant factors that shape interhuman relationships (Rock, “’From the Periphery’” 126). Scenes in immigration and naturalization offices and in various locations in Berlin intermingle with the narrator’s flashbacks of Timişoara and his Banat-Swabian village. The loose narratives in the first and third person intermingle with poems in prose, vignettes, and scenes that have no apparent narrator� A few fragments told in the second person, which is also Stirner, further fracture the narrative in “Begrüßungsgeld.” The fact that the three narrative voices stand for one person is indicative of an acute identity crisis which has caused a deep breakup of the self. Thus the fragments of these three voices reflect Stirner’s profound linguistic and cultural disorientation and his painstaking journey to redefine his cultural identity and reinvent himself as a writer� Although Stirner left Romania with a clear sense that he is German, West German society contests his claim to “German” identity due to conflicting conceptualizations of “Germanness”: while immigration officials perceive Stirner as an Aussiedler , the locals treat him as a foreigner� Stirner is haunted for a while by flashbacks and surrealist nightmares, and the fear of being reached by the Securitate : “Wir haben einen langen Arm. Wir erreichen dich überall” is the threat that he cannot easily shake off ( Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld 161). The eerie feeling that they are on a journey back to the past is intensified when Stirner and Sabine stroll through the immigration building. The narrow hallways and 50 Anca Luca Holden small waiting rooms filled with people waiting silently to have their number called remind Stirner of the somber atmosphere in the buildings of the Securitate and the passport and visa service� But while Romanian authorities recognize Stirner and Sabine’s claims to German identity, German immigration officials do not. Consequently, they are subjected to a series of interviews that span over several months, during which they must prove, perform, and defend their German identity. Thus, like other ethnic German immigrants, Stirner quickly discovers the “Heimatlosigkeit im Deutschen,” because “das Deutsche war bloß aus der Entfernung eine Sicherheit gewesen” (177). During the long and harsh interviews, the immigration officials grow increasingly irritated with Stirner and Sabine because they do not fit the traditional profile of the Aussiedler : they speak and write German, left Romania for political reasons not family reunification, and would not use the collaboration of their families with the Nazi regime as proof of their Germanness (179)� Fragments of these interviews intermingle with flashbacks of Stirner’s interrogations conducted by Party and Securitate members, revealing striking similarities� Like the Securitate , German immigration clerks are cold and intimidating: “Der Beamte fragte, und wenn er nicht gleich Antwort bekam, wiederholte er seine Frage sehr laut. Stirner sah ihn erstaunt an” (141). Moreover, Stirner finds “Beamtendeutsch” akin to “Behördenrumänisch” because both are difficult to make sense of (143)� Terrifying nightmares in which he is back in Romania being interrogated, threatened, and humiliated by the Securitate and Party members, intensify the rejection he feels from German authorities. The terror he experiences at night extends to the day, for he cannot shake off the feeling that he is watched and followed when he walks in the streets and the hallway of his apartment� Afraid that a bomb might be hidden in his apartment, he develops the routine of first turning the door key and then hiding from the door (187). While the West German accent and vocabulary reflect a reality unfamiliar to Stirner, so are his distinct accent and pronunciation, use of archaic terms and expressions, and behavior to the people around him. Consequently, Stirner is often taken for a foreigner or a Romanian who has learned German and is occasionally asked if he is Swiss (184)� Given the hostile treatment of the immigration authorities, the terrifying feeling that he is continually followed by the Securitate, and the fact that he can only minimally function in the new German language and culture, Stirner experiences a deep personal and cultural identity crisis, which is paralleled by his desperate efforts to reinvent himself as a writer. While Sabine finds a job as a substitute teacher and can receive government aid, Stirner’s hopes to make a living as a writer are bleak� Nonetheless, he strives to become an insider by imitating the language of the “Germans” around him. Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 51 Yet, Stirner’s estrangement continues to grow: “Er kam sich vor wie aus der Handlung vertrieben. Er machte weiterhin mit, aber er spielte keine Rolle” (168). For a while, he writes about himself as the protagonist in the new environment: “Neben Stirner ist immer noch eine Person. Es ist Stirner, der Protagonist. Stirner geht die Straße entlang, und er sieht sich die Straße entlaggehen. Stirner denkt nach, und er schaut sich dabei unauffällig zu” (168). But more than providing him with a protagonist, the doubling of the self, in which one self acts and the other observes and writes is indicative of the deep identity crisis he is undergoing. Despite his efforts, Stirner cannot shake off the impression that everything is concealed from him and that he is like a hose through which events just shoot (204). As such, he feels as though he were in “Niemandsland,” where the only thing that he can claim as his own is his language: “Er war jetzt mit seiner Sprache allein” (159). Since he was living in a present that has no roots for him, everything, including language, seems both mysterious and frightening (195)� While he tries to write about the new country, Stirner also revisits the old one. Thus, he picks up unfinished pieces he started in Romania. Particularly interesting is a four-line story about a nameless woman who, for years, wanted to leave the country� Since she cannot do so, she is waiting for her death� In the short commentary that follows, Stirner debates with himself as to the reason he left the piece unfinished. This debate seems at first incoherent because it features two different voices: Stirner’s and that of his accuser. The emergence of the accuser who addresses Stirner with “du” is signaled by the sentence: “Er hatte gerade die Faust gegen sich erhoben,” which indicates yet another doubling of the self (153-54). After Stirner realizes that “es war Feigheit gewesen, nichts als Feigheit,” and that “er hätte das alles damals schreiben müssen,” the second “self” sharply snaps at him: “Du redest von dir wie ein Besserwisser, aber es nützt dir nichts� Du hast dich aus einem Leben davongemacht, mach es wenigstens mit diesem besser” (153—54). Following this accusation, Stirner suddenly thinks he hears the woman in the story talking to him� He can now continue the story� What follows is a dialogue between him and the imaginary woman which then turns into another dialogue with himself: “Er redete mit sich. Er redete von sehr weit her� Von einem anderen Ort� Dieser Ort entfernte sich, manchmal war er sehr nah” (154). Stirner’s attempts to write about his new environment also intertwine with episodes from his life during Ceauşescu’s regime, particularly his encounters with members of the Securitate, the Party, and the visa and customs service� These evocations are further entangled with episodes that involve the Banat Swabians’ collaboration with the Nazi regime and their deportation to the Soviet Union. Yet, while he is still dealing with the damaging effects of his traumatizing experiences with the Securitate , Stirner is drawn back to Romania by his 52 Anca Luca Holden interest in the events that followed his emigration. Thus, during a short visit in East Berlin, he buys all the issues he can find of the only Romanian newspapers available at a newsstand (171)� He listens to the Romanian dissident radio station Radio Free Europe, asks for news from his friends in Bucharest, and, when he accidently hears people speaking Romanian in various locations in Berlin, he eavesdrops on their conversations. Interestingly, unlike in “Ausreiseantrag,” where Stirner translates into German dialogues in Romanian that he hears in the street, in “Begrüßungsgeld” he records entire sentences directly in Romanian without translating them (217). For example, in a restaurant he overhears a woman talking on the phone in Romanian using slang phrases like “astias sonati,” meaning “these [guys] are crazy” (217). As if interested only in the sound of the language, Stirner leaves out the diacritical marks and ignores grammatical rules when rendering such phrases in writing: “astias sonati” should be spelled ăştia-s sonaţi. The love-hate attitude he has for Romania is also reflected in his relationship with the Romanian language: “Es war eine ferne Sprache in ihm, gegen die er sich zu sperren suchte, die er aber insgeheim wünschte” (195). The thought that this country would somehow vanish from his memory, something many of his fellow ethnic German immigrants hope for, horrifies Stirner because: “Ob [Rumänien] irgendwann völlig verschwinden wird? Wer aber bin ich dann, fragte sich Stirner? ” (178). Nonetheless, Stirner is sure of one thing: he is not Romanian. When a Romanian exile newspaper invites him to write an article in Romanian, Stirner refuses categorically, because, as he explains, “er [ist] ein deutscher Schriftsteller” (178). Likewise, when an editor assumes that the manuscript that he submitted was translated from Romanian into German, he immediately explains: “Ach nein, es war ja deutsch geschrieben” (205). But if German society questions and refutes his claim to German identity and if he denies that he is Romanian, who is Stirner? And what and who determines his cultural identity? As the development of Stirner’s identity as a writer shows, the answer to these questions ultimately lies with Stirner because he is the one who determines who he is. He does so by negotiating his experiences with the Banat-Swabian, Romanian, and West German languages and cultures� He is marked but not defined by his family’s involvement with the Nazis, the oppression of the communist regime in Romania, and the hostile treatment he receives in West Germany. Consequently, instead of trying to delete from his memory everything linked to Romania, he welcomes the reemergence in his thoughts of Romanian “nackte, schutzlose Wörter der Kindheit und der Jugend” (257). Rather than clinging only to his “mitgebrachte” German language, Stirner chooses, though not without struggling, to change it by appropriating certain aspects of West Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 53 German language that further his development as a writer. The tension of this choice is evident in the following passage: Es gab Wörter, über die er sich wunderte. Er murmelte sie öfter vor sich hin, als wollte er sie auswendig lernen. Andere Wörter fand er abstoßend, ich werde sie nie aussprechen können, dachte er. Aber nach einem halben Jahr sprach er sie trotzdem aus […]. Er entfernte sich von seiner deutschen Sprache, er näherte sich einer anderen deutschen Sprache� (195) Determined to construct his own cultural identity, Stirner eventually gives up on changing his Banat-Swabian accent, because he concludes, “[i]ch muß mich mit meiner Biografie abfinden” (184). Moreover, he is not troubled anymore by the term “exile” (245). In time, Stirner is gradually able to distinguish German dialects, which is further proof of Stirner’s “Sich-Zurecht-Findens” (256). But perhaps the most important sign that he is growing more at peace with the development of his cultural identity is the fact that Stirner can write again with ease about his new environment: “Er konnte wieder schreiben, er war wieder zu Beobachtungen fähig. Was er sah konnte er jetzt auch wieder einordnen […], daß er wieder schreiben konnte, machte ihn ruhiger” (269). This is the case when he writes about an episode in which he is traveling on a train from West to East Berlin with a GDR couple and two West Germans� At this rare meeting between three types of “Germans,” Stirner offers several remarkable insights. First, he quickly realizes that the West German man was evaluating the others’ “Germanness”: “[D]er alte Herr betrachtete die beiden DDR-Bürger mal als Repräsentanten ihres Staates, mal als Inländer, als Deutsche” (263). Unlike on previous occasions, Stirner does not seem to be bothered by the fact that neither the West nor the East Germans talk with him: “Stirner war Ausländer. Stirner war Luft” (263). Yet, he is an insider to the conversation that he is not asked to be part of� Having lived in a communist state, Stirner, unlike the two West Germans, can easily decode the information that the GDR couple is purposefully leaving out from their conversation in order to hide, among other compromising aspects, their involvement with the Free German Youth (260—64). Stirner’s detailed description of the scene and dialogue are accompanied by sharp criticism and sarcastic comments unveiling the truth behind the carefully orchestrated pretense of innocence that the GDR couple puts up. The remarkable aspect about Stirner as the “silent” participant/ witness is that even though he cannot orally demonstrate that he is an insider, he can do so in writing� As people start showing interest in his past, Stirner realizes, albeit reluctantly, that his experiences make good material for stories (269). Feeling pushed to the edge of his stories, Stirner remarks with a trace of bitterness that: “Der 54 Anca Luca Holden Rand meiner Erlebnisse ist keine Erzählung, der Rand meiner Erlebnisse bin ich” (269). Thus, although Stirner has succeeded in constructing a personalized German cultural identity without isolating himself from or assimilating into mainstream West German culture, society still places him at the “periphery.” Stirner, like Wagner, succeeds, in time, to reinvent himself as a German-language writer by negotiating a triangular cultural identity which combines elements of Banat-Swabian, Romanian, and West German languages and cultures� Thus, Stirner’s, and implicitly, Wagner’s experiences as an ethnic German in communist Romania and, what I would call, an “Ortwechsler” in West Germany document the linguistic, political, and cultural challenges and transformations that question concepts of a homogenous German language, culture, nation, and identity. By exposing the processes of exclusion through which homogeneity is articulated, Wagner and his characters contest cultural definitions of “Germanness” based on biological, territorial, and state-centered concepts (O’Donnell et al� 9) and criticize communist and capitalist politics and tactics of marginalization against ethnic Germans� Even so, Wagner and his characters continue to struggle with the lingering shadow of their harrowing experiences in communist Romania years after Ceauşescu’s demise. However, thanks to his innovative literary techniques and unique modes of writing, Wagner succeeds in his texts to articulate the traumatic effects of the tyranny and terror of the totalitarian regime both on the individual and on society and thus give voice to the voiceless, and to create artistic landscapes that can enhance our understanding of the communist era and the politics of the bureaucratic and immigration systems in Eastern and Western Europe and put them into historical perspective� Notes 1 Immigration officials and society challenged and contested the “Germanness” of ethnic Germans from Romania. Aussiedler or Heimkehrer, German-Romanians tried to convince the locals that they belonged to the German cultural space and explain why they are different than foreign immigrants. Still, both locals and foreigners rejected this “Sonderstatus,” which they often saw as a manifestation of arrogance (Wagner, “Sprachdesaster” 346). 2 Wagner’s cultural imaginary of Germany is akin to Friedrich Meinecke’s definition of “Kulturnation,” outlined in his 1908 book Weltbürgertum und Nationalstaat which is “based on accepted and shared cultural and religious goods - such as a common language” (Kremer, “Transitions of a Myth? ” 55). The German language, Wagner contends, “war nicht nur meine Muttersprache, sondern auch die Sprache meines kulturellen Selbstverständ- Language, Cultural Identity, and the Politics of Marginalization 55 nisses” (qtd. in Rock, “‘A German Comes Home‘” 55). While Romania was for Wagner “der Staat” from which he and the German ethnic minority felt distant, he always had a territorial relationship with his native Banat region that he does not have with Germany, the state, since, he argues: “In Ostmitteleuropa sind die Regionen wichtiger als die Staaten, sie sind auch älter als sie. Für die Minderheit ist es selbstverständlich, sich zuerst mit der Region zu identifizieren“ (qtd. in Rock, “‘A German Comes Home‘” 67). 3 Like Wagner, Herta Müller feels the same tension: “ich [kann] in Deutschland nie dazugehören und ich [kann] aus Deutschland nicht weggehen” (Müller 30)� Works Cited Csejka, Gerhardt. “Über den Anfang. Betrachtungen die neuere deutsche Lyrik in Rumänien betreffend.” Neue Literatur 5 (1970): 16—19. —.-“Bedingtheiten der rumäniendeutschen Literatur.” Reflexe. Ed� Emmerich Reichrath� Bukarest: Kriterion, 1997. 45—54. Cooper, Thomas. “Herta Müller: Beneath Myths of Belonging.” The Exile and Return of Writers from East-Central Europe. Ed. John Neubauer and Borbála Zsuzsanna Török. New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2009. 475—96. Jackman, Graham. “‘Alone in a Crowd: ’ The Figure of the ‘ Aussiedler ’ in the Work of Richard Wagner.” Coming Home to Germany? The Integration of Ethnic Germans from Central and Eastern Europe in the Federal Republic. Ed. David Rock and Stefan Wolff. New York/ Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2002. 157—70. Kremer, Arndt. “Transitions of a Myth? The Idea of a Language-Defined Kulturnation in Germany.” New German Review 27.1 (2016): 53—75. Miroiu, Mihaela. “From Pseudo-Power to Lack of Power.” The European Journal of Women’s Studies 1 (1994): 107—10. Motzan, Peter. “Die vielen Wege in den Abschied.” Wortreiche Landschaft. Ed� Renate Florstedt. Leipzig: BlickPunktBuch, 1998. 108—16. Müller, Herta. “Und noch erschrickt unser Herz.” Der Teufel sitzt im Spiegel � Berlin: Rotbuch, 1991. 19—38. Neau, Patrice. “Von Auszug der Dichter. Zur Problematik des ‘Ortswechsels’ bei den rumänien-deutschen Autoren.” Migrationsliteratur. Schreibweise einer interkulturellen Moderne. Ed� Klaus Schenk, Almut Todorow and Milan Tvrdík� Tübingen: Francke, 2005. 129—41. O’Donnell, Krista, Renate Bridenthal, and Nancy Reagin. “Introduction.” The Heimat Abroad : The Boundaries of Germanness. Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 2005. 1—14. Rock, David. “‘From the Periphery to the Centre and Back Again: ’ An Introduction to the Life and Works of Richard Wagner.” Coming Home to Germany? The Integration of Ethnic Germans from Central and Eastern Europe in the Federal Republic. Ed� David Rock and Stefan Wolff. New York/ Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2002. 121—38. 56 Anca Luca Holden —.- “‘A German Comes Home to Germany’: Richard Wagner’s Journey from the Banat to Berlin, from the Periphery to the Centre.” Neighbors and Strangers. Ed� Ian Foster and Juliet Wigmore. Amsterdam/ New York: Rodopi. 55—71. Solms, Wilhelm, ed� Nachruf auf die rumäniendeutsche Literatur. Marburg: Hitzeroth, 1990� Wagner, Richard� Ausreiseantrag. Begrüßungsgeld. Frankfurt a�M�: Luchterhand, 1991� —.-“Lehrjahre eines Immigranten: Über den Versuch, in einem anderen Land anzukommen.” Neue Züricher Zeitung 11 Dec� 2004: 45� —.-“Die Aktionsgruppe Banat.” Nachruf auf die rumäniendeutsche Literatur. Ed� Wilhelm Solms. Marburg: Hitzeroth, 1990. 121—29. —.-“Sprachdesaster und Identitätsfalle. Der Schriftsteller als Rumäniendeutscher.” Orbis Linguarum 26 (2004): 345—51.