Judgment Day - Almeida Theatre

8
Horvath in a radio interview on
Bayrischer Rundfunk, 6 April 1932
Since you received the Kleist Prize,
newspapers and literary journals have
been brimming with opinions about you,
in fact I think it fair to say that no other
modern playwright has enflamed the
hearts and minds of the critics and
divided them in quite the same way as
you have. So it’ll be interesting to hear
your opinions first hand.
I can give you my opinions. And to save
you the trouble of the first question, I’ll
cut straight to telling you when and
where I was born and whether I’m a
thoroughbred German writer or merely
some strange mixture.
When asked if I’m German I can only
reply: my cultural identity is
undoubtedly German for the simple
reason that German is my mother
tongue. As far as I’m concerned, this is
the determining element. Only then I
would add the fact that I spent crucial
years of my development in Germany, in
Southern Bavaria and Austria. My name
is Hungarian, I have Hungarian blood,
Czech and Croatian too, so I’m a typical
Austrian – Hungarian melange. But let
me point out that the products of such
racial mixing needn’t be the worst. It’s
well known that many individuals of
mixed race have been identified by later
generations as the truest and greatest
representatives of German culture.
For example Nietzsche.
Yes, he was half Polish for instance.
And the painter and poet Albrecht
Dürer was half Hungarian. But let me
descend from these dizzying historical
heights and get back to talking about
myself. Let’s straighten this out: I
frequently read articles describing me
as a Hungarian writer. That’s utter
nonsense of course. I’ve never written
anything in Hungarian (apart from at
school), only in German. That makes
me a German writer.
Anybody who is familiar with your work
will be aware of your German, very
Southern German style – even though
you’re not a German national. Perhaps
you could tell us where you were born?
I was born thirty years ago in Fiume on
the Adriatic coast. When I was thirteen
I went to Munich and attended school
there.
Were you a successful student?
Well, more or less. Actually, less.
That was during the first years of the war.
Yes, the war started while I was at
school. When I think back on it today it
seems I don’t remember the time
before the war. I really have to
concentrate to remember things from
the peacetime before. I believe you
and others of our generation will know
what I mean.
Yes, I certainly do.
The World War darkened our youth
and robbed us of our childhood
memories. But let’s move on.
Yes, let’s talk about the arts. Tell us Herr
Horvath, how did you become a writer?
In 1920 I was a student at the
university of Munich and was as they
say ‘interested in the arts’, but had
never actually been artistically active in
any way. Outwardly that is. Inwardly I’d
been playing with the thought for a
while and said to myself: why don’t
you try to be a writer? You like going to
the theatre, you’ve experienced a lot,
you like to contradict, and above all
you have this strange urge to write
down the things you see and
experience and the things you imagine
others to see and experience. You also
believe that you should never make
concessions, and you’ve never been
worried about what others say about
you. And here we have all the
trappings of what more flamboyant
souls might call ‘the realisation of a
poetic mission.’
By chance I met the composer
Siegfried Kallenberg one evening here
in Munich in 1920. Kallenberg
suddenly asked me: wouldn’t I like to
write a pantomime for him. I was
naturally somewhat puzzled since I
couldn’t imagine why he should
approach me of all people – I was not
an author at all and had never in my
life written anything. He must have
confused me with someone else, I
thought, and at first I wanted to
correct him, but then I thought about
it differently: why not have a go at
writing a pantomime. So I agreed to it,
got to work and wrote the pantomime.
Later it was performed. I received my
first review, I think you wanted to know
about this?
Indeed.
It was devastating and started with the
words ‘It’s a disgrace’ and continued
in that vein. But I didn’t really take it to
heart.
So you decided to pursue writing as a
career?
Ah! I tried all sorts of more
conventional jobs first, but I wasn’t
suited to any of them. I must be
destined to be a writer after all, I
thought.
Would you say your plays have a satirical
element?
I’m a big friend of satire. I can’t help it.
I’d be interested in your thoughts on
parody.
I expressly reject parody as a dramatic
form. Parody has nothing to do with
art and is nothing but very cheap
entertainment.
Herr Horvath, let’s talk about our
mutual passion: Theatre. I assume you
will agree with me that the theatre will
survive the present dire economic
circumstances.
Theatre as an art form cannot die, for
the simple reason that people need it.
For me this is a self evident and
obvious fact. The theatre dreams on
behalf of the spectator, and