Sign up to save your podcasts
Or
Share The Good Life in a GDR Cell
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Or
The Good Life in a GDR Cell
Unlike his “previous tenant” Andi, “Blaschi” reacted with complete indifference to my quiet singing last night. A loud fart from his exhaust pipe pleased him more.
The German edition of 1984, The 18-Year-Old Who Wrote a Note and Disappeared is now available in bookshops: 📖 https://j4b.me/1984
Udo Lindenberg, Neue Deutsche Welle, or even punk are out of the question for the time being. But he is a living encyclopedia. He brought a bundle of crossword puzzles with him, which he meticulously works through.
He seems to be no stranger to the guards. They speak to him less harshly than they do to me. And they even let him keep the “Troll,” the “Wochenpost,” and a pen.
The Wochenpost is one of the few newspapers in the Zone that my stepfather subscribes to, who rejects anything that spews indigestible “Red Front” drivel like the Neue Deutschland.
Unlike the disgusting agitprop pamphlets “Freiheit” or “Junge Welt,” the “Wochenpost” writes about art, culture, and science in a much more relaxed manner.
While ‘Blaschi’ throws himself into the crossword puzzles in the “Troll,” I devour the “Post.” I realize with shame that I have read virtually no newspapers or magazines since my last year of school in 1982.
In the apprentice dormitory, we could have watched “Aktuelle Kamera” (the East German news show) on GDR television, but virtually no one did. At night, I could secretly listen to “SR1 Europawelle Saar” on my little tube radio (see Sunday, March 4).
This was possible when the station made it to the coast with fluctuating interference due to “overrange,” which depended on the weather. During the day, only atmospheric noise could be heard.
This had a huge advantage. When I turned off the radio, I never had to change the station to avoid trouble.
There was always trouble because our dorm supervisor was constantly snooping around our rooms to see who was listening to or reading forbidden material.
A colleague had to justify a poster in his room that featured Western art. He was told to remove it. Only when he was able to prove beyond doubt that the print was of Eastern origin did our “dorm supervisor” relent.
If Andi were still sitting in my cell, I would now sing “Tri tra trullala” by Joachim Witt:
“Hey, lasst das sein, Kinder (Hey, leave it alone, kids) / Ihr seid wohl ganz versessen (You’re probably quite obsessed)... Ich bin Euer Herbergsvater (I’m your hostel warden) / Und ich sage hey, hey (And I say hey, hey)...”
But that’s as certain as death and taxes that it’s not for “Blaschi”.
Once Upon a Time in Germany, A Prequel to 1984, The 18-Year-Old Who Wrote a Note and Disappeared is now available in bookshops: 📖 https://j4b.me/doom
This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit tjannot.substack.com/subscribe
View all episodes
By Tommy H. JannotUnlike his “previous tenant” Andi, “Blaschi” reacted with complete indifference to my quiet singing last night. A loud fart from his exhaust pipe pleased him more.
The German edition of 1984, The 18-Year-Old Who Wrote a Note and Disappeared is now available in bookshops: 📖 https://j4b.me/1984
Udo Lindenberg, Neue Deutsche Welle, or even punk are out of the question for the time being. But he is a living encyclopedia. He brought a bundle of crossword puzzles with him, which he meticulously works through.
He seems to be no stranger to the guards. They speak to him less harshly than they do to me. And they even let him keep the “Troll,” the “Wochenpost,” and a pen.
The Wochenpost is one of the few newspapers in the Zone that my stepfather subscribes to, who rejects anything that spews indigestible “Red Front” drivel like the Neue Deutschland.
Unlike the disgusting agitprop pamphlets “Freiheit” or “Junge Welt,” the “Wochenpost” writes about art, culture, and science in a much more relaxed manner.
While ‘Blaschi’ throws himself into the crossword puzzles in the “Troll,” I devour the “Post.” I realize with shame that I have read virtually no newspapers or magazines since my last year of school in 1982.
In the apprentice dormitory, we could have watched “Aktuelle Kamera” (the East German news show) on GDR television, but virtually no one did. At night, I could secretly listen to “SR1 Europawelle Saar” on my little tube radio (see Sunday, March 4).
This was possible when the station made it to the coast with fluctuating interference due to “overrange,” which depended on the weather. During the day, only atmospheric noise could be heard.
This had a huge advantage. When I turned off the radio, I never had to change the station to avoid trouble.
There was always trouble because our dorm supervisor was constantly snooping around our rooms to see who was listening to or reading forbidden material.
A colleague had to justify a poster in his room that featured Western art. He was told to remove it. Only when he was able to prove beyond doubt that the print was of Eastern origin did our “dorm supervisor” relent.
If Andi were still sitting in my cell, I would now sing “Tri tra trullala” by Joachim Witt:
“Hey, lasst das sein, Kinder (Hey, leave it alone, kids) / Ihr seid wohl ganz versessen (You’re probably quite obsessed)... Ich bin Euer Herbergsvater (I’m your hostel warden) / Und ich sage hey, hey (And I say hey, hey)...”
But that’s as certain as death and taxes that it’s not for “Blaschi”.
Once Upon a Time in Germany, A Prequel to 1984, The 18-Year-Old Who Wrote a Note and Disappeared is now available in bookshops: 📖 https://j4b.me/doom
This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit tjannot.substack.com/subscribe