Founded on the eve of the First World War in Leipzig, the capital of German publishing, the aim of the Deutsche Bücherei was to collect and preserve all publications in all languages published in Germany and all publications in the German language abroad. These items were to be catalogued according to modern criteria and be made accessible for the broader public. The history of the Deutsche Bücherei reflects Germany’s ‘special path’ in the 20th century from monarchy to republic, from National Socialism to the two post-war Germanies, and finally to German re-unification. Over the past few years, scholars have witnessed growing interest in the history of the Deutsche Bücherei.1 The book reviewed here is a welcome addition to the research on this unique institution. Unlike most previous studies that focus on issues of continuity and change in the history of the library throughout the 20th century, Müller’s book explores the actual work of the library as a modern institution whose aim is to collect and classify the world in print. At the hub of her study is the question of how the Deutsche Bücherei, as a German national library, reacted to popular publications, some immoral and obscene, that were commonly classified as Schund- und Schmutzschriften (Filth and Trash Literature).

In addition to exploring whether the library actively collected such publications, Müller’s study deals primarily with the publications that were deposited in the Deutsche Bücherei after being reviewed by the censorship authorities set up following the institution of the 1926 ‘Law Protecting Young People from Smutty and Trashy Literature’. The struggle against publications considered to be Schund und Schmutzschriften did not commence with the 1926 legislation. Müller provides a meticulous and lengthy account of this history, placing the fight against such publications within a broader framework of questions about German nation building and Bürgerlichkeit. More importantly, this discussion provides the background to what Müller depicts as a paradox in the work of the library. She shows that while the library was founded on the basis of a conservative bourgeois worldview emphasising Bildung and German nationalism, the actual work of the Deutsche Bücherei was surprisingly progressive and inclusive towards publications that didn't reflect prevailing bourgeois values. According to Müller, so-called Schund- und Schmutzschriften were not only collected, but also integrated into the library collection just like any other item the library received for safe keeping. Looking systematically at the Deutsche Bücherei‘s collection and cataloguing practices, Müller established that the library was liberal and inclusive in its interpretation of what should be considered ‘German’ and thus included in the collections. The Deutsche Bücherei was not established on the basis of state legislation, which might have obliged publishers to deposit copies of all their publications in a designated national library; the collections of the library were thus dependent on the goodwill of publishers and, to an appreciable extent, their voluntary cooperation. But the library did not merely receive publications: it had a department for acquisitions, which actively sought out new publications inside and outside Germany. This is only one of the features that, according to Müller, put the Deutsche Bücherei at the forefront of modern library work following the First World War.

Müller’s study of Deutsche Bücherei is powerful and persuasive. The book is meticulously researched and opens avenues into larger questions about how the library reflects German national identity or even whether it helped to shape it. It is an ambitious study that consciously aims to complicate the reading of German history. But the boldness and the occasional overreliance on empirical analysis entail certain risks. The dense argument is at times difficult to follow. Some parts might have benefited from more contextualisation and the use of more recent historical literature, particularly in English, on the questions at hand. More problematic is the periodisation of the study. While the book’s focus is the Deutsche Bücherei, large sections of the study are dedicated to the pre-history of the library and the 19th century struggle against Schund- und Schmutzschriften, both topics that have been considered in depth in existing research. Müller does not explain why she decided to end her book with the rise of National Socialism. She briefly deals with the fate of the publications that were produced by those who fled National Socialism. Such titles were collected by the library during the Nazi period and were later recorded in a special catalogue of exile literature. Little is said about the Deutsche Bücherei and its relationship with lowbrow popular publications, e.g. comics, during the Nazi and the post-war years. After the war, the library that was an explicit project of the educated German bourgeoisie, according to Müller, became the national library of the East German communist state. After the establishment of the Federal Republic of Germany, the Deutsche Bücherei directly competed with the West German Deutsche Nationalbibliothek that was officially launched in 1952. Müller leaves unanswered how these dramatic political changes were reflected in the collections and ways the library operated. In addition, the book says almost nothing about the users of the Deutsche Bücherei.

To be sure, there is still work to be done, but Müller’s book breaks new ground for historical research and will be of interest to historians working on German nationalism, the history of libraries in Germany as well as the sociology of knowledge. It is a stimulating study that affords readers a lucid and extremely well-researched analysis of a central institution in modern German history.

Note:
1 See for example, Sören Flachowsky, Zeughaus für die Schwerter des Geistes. Die Deutsche Bücherei in Leipzig 1912-1945, Göttingen 2018; Christian Rau, Nationalbibliothek im geteilten Land. Die Deutsche Bücherei 1945-1990, Göttingen 2018.