I was doing a small job for a French multi-national integrated energy and petroleum company. Their operation in Germany wanted design work carried out for their petrol retailing operation. The Wall having just come down (much written about in this issue of Granta), we travelled to Leipzig to see a few of their petrol stations. Reunification had caused ramifications for their brand identity and other less important issues.
At the first site, our client bought me a Trabant. Not the real car (they’d been discontinued). Nor was it full sized. It was a 1/32nd sized model in a cardboard box with cellophane window. The window showed off what had been the apogee of East German automotive engineering, with its two stroke engine, plastic body, and continual odour of paraffin.
Since reunification and discontinuation the car had surprisingly acquired more cache. Deemed to be a classic automobile it was sought after and at a premium price due to a lack of availability (the car's durability hadn't been its best feature, if indeed it had ever possessed a best feature). And if its notorious unpredictability and unreliability was not your preference as a mode of transport, there were other uses for the Trabant other than transportation. As icons of nostalgia they were cutup to become garden planters, sofas, an integrated home office or play rooms.
What was curious about the client’s gift to me was not the lime green paintwork, or that both doors opened, but that it was made from a metal alloy. The original was only ever made from Duroplast, a plastic formed from cotton waste and phenolic resins.
Ironic that reunification had posthumously raised the standards of production, at least for my model, whose bodywork now exhibited far greater quality than the actual car had ever done.
This issue of Granta has Germany as is theme. Entitled ‘Deutschland’ it has an article ‘Have a Good Trip with Trabant’, that entertains with not just the cultural significance of the car, but also the difficulties of ownership. It accompanies an excellent series of black & white photographs from the Trabant production line.
Otherwise, this issue (which despite the new editor seems to be increasingly the case with Granta) was predominantly nonfictional essays that were dry and scholarly. Though 'Auto Mind' by Adrian Daub, resonated with my sense that the car revels in its hegemony over us. That death is acceptable for our apparent freedom behind the wheel. Yet, the driver is as much a slave to haste and impatience as the pedestrian is to death and a lack of priority. In not many years to come, our descendants will laugh at the hubris the car exerts over us. The essay, naturally, shows this in the context of German roads and autobahns, but this is a worldwide malaise.
The fiction or memoir where it appeared was poor. The exception is the intriguing, ‘We Would Have Told Each Other Everything' by Judith Hermann, and especially Yoko Tawada’s ‘The Texture of Angel Matter’, which was refreshingly surreal, and whose prose flowed like a limpid brook, a welcome relief from the weighty tone of much of this issue.