Franz Josef Degenhardt: Deutscher Sonntag
Lyrics: https://genius.com/Franz-josef-degenhar ... tag-lyrics
This song is definitely for advanced learners oft German (C1 or even C2). Its vocabulary contains lots oft words and collocations that are rather poetic and/or rarely used: die Spinne Langeweile, Fäden spinnen, die Wand hochkriechen, sein Barthaar stehen lassen, den Tag vorüber gehen lassen, hocken, Bein mit Beine decken, zum Kirchgang antreten, ihre Männer unterfassen, vorwärts schieben, in Kneipen fliehen, Bratendüfte wehen, den Kaplan umstehen, Pudding dampft, aus den Schänken schallt das Lied, am Bach ein Birklein stund, vor Gemütlichkeit frieren, mampfen, Bratenschweiß dampft aus Fenstern, die fette Stille, Messer stoßen auf Knochen, das Blubbern dicker Soßen, ausgefranste Krähen, Zigarrenwolken schweben, aufgeblähte Nüstern beben, Donauwellen plätschern aus Musiktruhen, über Mägen quellen, die Stadt hockt und verdaut, durch den Schall brechen (eigentlich: die Schallmauer durchbrechen), sein Bäuerchen lassen, Worte röhren, treuherzig lachen, spärlich nicken, in den Rinnstein rollen, Kindern baumeln (und) ziehen Hände, Fliegen sorgsam an den Hals setzen, ausgefetzte Beine, zum Bahndamm fliehen, Kneipen vergeuden ihr Licht, in Couchecken wird’s beschaulich, Lachen wie ein Windstoß, , rasch ein Gläschen schlürfen.
Then there are the typical German word monstrosities, compound words like Sonntagseinerlei, Familienleittier, Gaumenschnalzen, Schlüsselklingen, Hausvorgärtenmauern, Schlachtfeldstätten, Schinkenspeckgesichter, traumverloren, Stadtparkbänke, Spaziergangstunden, Mattscheibenspäßchen. The sentence structure is complex and frequent enjambments make it difficult to understand the song. For example, the first verse (12 verse lines) consists of a single sentence. Some literary allusions and quotations (today one would speak of postmodern intertextuality) as well as the reference to German history (e.g. Sedan) and the present of the 1960s are certainly not generally understandable. I will try to explain some of them below.
Since the late 1960s, Franz Josef Degenhardt has become the poetic mouthpiece of the West German left with his German-language lyrics and is considered the founder of the singer-songwriter genre in Germany. Authors such as Brecht, Wedekind, Tucholsky, Villon and Ringelnatz influenced the protest singer; he found musical role models in Woody Guthrie and Georges Brassens. He had a musical career spanning 30 albums, and yet only one song has remained in the memory of the general public: „Spiel nicht mit den Schmuddelkindern“ (Don't play with the grubby kids). A classic that surely belongs (should belong) to the general educational canon. „Deutscher Sonntag“ was released on the same album, also titled „Spiel nicht mit den Schmuddelkindern“, on the eve of the cultural revolution of 1968. When it was released in 1965, the album was not only in tune with the times, it was way ahead of them. Musically, it could certainly only be a soundtrack to the angry youth movement to a limited extent, but in terms of content, the works undoubtedly struck a chord with the first post-war generation.
As the title says, this song is about a typical German Sunday in a small town. In the first stanza, the lyrical speaker outlines his own position in the small town's bourgeois society. He sits at the window with his legs crossed, reads his newspaper and takes note of all the Sunday trivia („das ganze Sonntagseinerlei“) outside. This, says he, happens „nebenbei“, it’s not his main focus. This is underlined by the first lines oft the song. In a poetic way he describes his Sunday as a very boring day: „Wenn die Spinne Langeweile Fäden zieht und ohne Eile … die Wand hochkriecht“ (When the spider boredom pulls strings and crawls up the wall without haste). In view of what follows, this is a deception of the listener, which becomes clear in the same moment: his perception encompasses all the senses „Seh’ hör’ und rieche“. Likewise, the spider boredom is decribed as „giftig grau“ (poisonous gray). Another harbinger of the calamity to come is his state of mind: "Angst und Ärger", fear and anger. So he doesn’t leave his home („Dann bringt mich keiner auf die Straße“) when it smells clean and freshly bathed („wenn’s blank und frisch gebadet riecht“), he doesn’t shave („lasse ich mein rotes Barthaar stehn“).
The most obvious hint that he is going to talk about important things and not about trivia („Sonntagseinerlei“) is his physical gesture: „decke Bein mit Beine“. That doesn’t just sound old-fashioned, it is old, namely a a quote from a political poem by the most important German lyric poet of the Middle Ages, Walther von der Vogelweide. His „Reichssprüche“ are among the first examples of political poetry from the Middle Ages. In his first poem oft three, he describes his posture when he thinks about the situation oft the medieval German Reich: https://lyricstranslate.com/de/ich-saz- ... stein.html) This posture is part oft the drawing in the „Codex Manesse“, also known as the "Great Heidelberg Book of Songs", created between around 1300 and around 1340 in Zurich, UNESCO World Documentary Heritage 2023. It is the most comprehensive collection of ballads and epigrammatic poetry in Middle High German language: https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walther_v ... lweide.jpg. The identical leg position ("decke Bein mit Beine" - "dahte bein mit beine") emphasizes the seriousness of Degenhardt's observations in the song.
The following 7 verses show typical situations of a German small-town Sunday in the mid-1960s. The second verse depicts the obligatory church visit in the morning. The choice of words („treten zum Kirchgang an“) here is rather revealing: in military jargon, „(zum Appell) antreten“ means to line up for roll call. Keep in mind that the song was written only twenty years after the end oft World War Two. The wives take on the role of drill sergeant: „Familienleittiere voran“. „Leittier“ is the leader animal, the leader oft the pack. Their outfit is something like a uniform: „Hütchen, Schühchen, Täschchen passend“ – the diminuitive „chen“ gives the scene a satirical touch. The men follow, albeit reluctantly: Linking arms with them („ihre Männer unterfassend“), the wives secretly push their spouses forward („die sie heimlich vorwärts schieben, weil die gern zu Hause blieben“) – the men would prefer to stay at home. „Blieben“ here is not quite correct: It is Konjunktiv2 but should be replaced by the conditional „bleiben würden“ because indicative an conjunctive are identical here. The doctor of law, novelist and eloquent bard Degenhardt can be excused with reference to the last verse oft the beautiful poem "Das ästhetische Wiesel (The Aesthetic Weasel)" by Christian Morgenstern (https://www.deutschelyrik.de/das-aesthe ... -1899.html): He did it „um des Reimes willen“, for the sake oft rhyme. The return from the church takes place in parallel to the outward journey, with one exception: the women secretly pull the men home because they would otherwise flee to the pubs („… dass sie nicht in Kneipen flieh’n“). In the translation, the nice pun „heimlich heimwärts“ gets lost. In the villages and small towns of Germany there is a pub next to every church, also known as a "Nebenkirche (side church)", where many a beer is financed by the sale of confession slips. Hence the vicious look (böser Blick) from the women.
The next Sunday morning episode is the time between church and the lavish German Sunday lunch (verse 3). The maidens stop in front oft the church, surround („umstehen“) the chaplain and laugh harmlessly at the chaplain's cute little jokes ("nette Witzchen"). The maidens are seen as a collective here: It is not them who laugh as individuals, „es lacht“. Meanwhile, the women have gone home and appetizing scents are in the air: „Bratendüfte wehen“ „Pudding dampft“ (Roast aromas waft, pudding steams). In Germany, especially on Sundays, the sumptuous lunch is the main meal. In the sixties, that was usually „Gemischter Braten“, mixed roast (pork, beef, maybe veal) with a lots oft gravy and a typical regional side dish (dumplings in Bavaria, spaetzle in Baden Württemberg, boiled potatoes almost everywhere). And for dessert there was often a pudding. Pudding does not mean dessert ("Nachspeise") in German but is a sort oft custard. The men's attempts to escape were successful, and so their German folk songs resound in the taverns. „Das Lied vom Wiesengrund“ refers to the folk song „Im schönsten Wiesengunde“ (https://www.volksliedsammlung.de/im-sch ... runde.html). „Im Wiesengrunde“ is the old German dative (it has not wholly disappeared yet) with the e-ending. Degenhardt imitates this older German with the old past tense form „stund“ instaed oft „stand“. The „Birklein“ (little birch tree) picks up on the ironic diminutives oft the way to church. The bells in the folk songs invite the church bells to join them („Alle Gocken läuten mit“), and the rhyme makes the religious mood disappear: “Die ganze Stadt kriegt Appetit.” Here we have the colloquial verb “kriegen” for “bekommen”. Again the humans are dehumanized: It’s not them that get hungry, it is the whole town. The lyrical speaker’s reaction is physical and seemingly paradox: “Dann frier ich vor Gemütlichkeit”, then I freeze from gemutlichkeit, “Gemütlichkeit” is a German word that is difficult to translate, the nearest equivalent may be the danish “hygge”. Wikipedia’s definition is “Gemütlichkeit is characterized by a friendly, warm atmosphere and environment in which people feel comfortable. It is characterized by balance, security, freedom from conflict and carefreeness. It brings calm to the hectic pace. Coziness does not tolerate excitement, quarrels or intrusive worries.”. What follows this definition explains the oxymoron: “In art, the depiction of coziness or freedom from conflict can seem kitschy.”
This prepares the ground for verse four, which is dedicated to the description of lunch. Here the historical context is important: After Germany’s defeat in World War II, the “Wirtschaftswunder” (economic miracle), also known as the "Miracle on the Rhine", was the rapid reconstruction and development of the West German economy resulting in a lasting era of low inflation and rapid industrial growth. In the area of diet and nutrition, the hunger of the postwar period, only a few years in the past, was replaced by what was dubbed the Fresswelle, a wave of overeating. Degenhardt’s choice of words makes clear why the verb “fressen” ( normally used for animals) is used to describe this phenomenon:
- “Die ganze Stadt” (again no individual human beings) “hockt” (squats). The DWDS defines “hocken” as “sit with your back bent in a deep squat, crouch down”: a typical attitude of the “Untertan” (subordinate). German subordinate spirit, masterfully described in Heinrich Mann's novel “Der Untertan” was responsible for two world wars.
- “(Die ganze Stadt) mampft” (munches, crunches), another rather pejorative verb (for eat).
- “… dass Bratenschweiß aus Fenstern dampft”: The steamy heat generated by the eating process contrasts with the freezing of the speaker.
- “die fette Stille”: At that time, children were not allowed to speak during meals. The adults are so focused on eating that they don't communicate. What a contrast to Mediterranean culture, where eating together is a communicative event! The silence is fat: another contrast to the Mediterranean diet.
- Nevertheless, the eating process is not silent: “Gaumenschmatzen, Schüsselklingen” (palate smacking, bowls clinking), “Messer die auf Knochen stoßen”, “das Blubbern dicker Soßen” (Knives hitting bones, the bubbling of thick sauces).
- The situation becomes threatening: “Hat nicht irgendwas geschrien?” It’s better not to look out of the window now. Fringed crows (“Ausgeframste Krähen”), harbingers of death, lurk (”lauern”) on the walls of front gardens. No doubt that can make you lose your appetite: “Ich werd’ so entsetzlich satt.” Without eating, the speaker is getting terribly full.
The situation eases somewhat at the end of the eating process (verse five). It's the time after lunch: The digestive process is accompanied by smoking cigars (“Zigarrenwolken schweben”) and listening to music (“Donauwellen plätschern aus Musiktruhen”). “Donauwellen” is a waltz by Josef Ivanivici, “Musiktruhe” is a piece of furniture from the 50s and 60s with integrated loudspeakers and various entertainment electronics devices, initially usually radios and record players, later also tape recorders or televisions. At the beginning of the verse, the focus is on verbs of movement: of the air (“schweben”, “beben”) and of water (“plätschern”, “quellen”). The choice of words ironically refers to a supposedly more sophisticated bourgeoisie. “Nüstern” (instead of Nasenflügel) is ironized by the participle "aufgebläht” (bloated), the splashing and swelling of the waltz pour over the villagers' full stomachs (“über Mägen quellem”). The movement seeps away to motionlessness (“Dann hat die Luft sich angestaut”). The air has congested, the whole town squats and digests (“Die ganze Stadt hockt und verdaut”). A loud bang breaks the silence. Where did it come from? Did an airplane break the sound barrier? For the speaker, there is another possible explanation: The city has let its burp out” (hat “ihr Bäuerechen gelassen”). “Ein Bäuermachen lassen oder machen” is used for the burping of babies. The expression seems to be related to the Dutch "boeren" and is probably onomatopoeic like the English "blurp". In German, it is used as a folk etymology with a diminutive of Bauer in reference to a bad habit attributed to farmers. For the speaker, this is the correct explanation because the collective burb make the air smell “süß und säuerlich”, sweet and slightly sour. The ending -lich is typical for adjectives and has different functions (cf. https://www.dwds.de/wb/-lich). Here it serves to attenuate the adjective “sauer”. This smell makes the speaker feel sick: “Ich glaube, ich erbreche mich.” (I think I’m going to vomit).
The afternoon (verse 6) is dedicated, of course, to the favorite Sunday amateur sport in Germany: soccer. And it seems as if the German national sport is taking place on battlefields (“Schlachtfeldstätten”): The spectators join the match “im Geiste”, in their imagination. And it is a game full of violence, as the verbs reveal: “mittreten”, “mitstechen”, “mitschießen”. The "mit" refers to the term "Mitläufer". Most Germans were not active Nazis under Hitler, but followed their government without offering resistance. The Sunday soccer fans "take revenge" (rächen sich”) for the frustrations of everyday life (“für wochentags”) in their imaginary participation. They laugh innocently (“treuherzig”) in joyful anticipation of cracking bones on the soccer pitch, or rather, it's not them who laugh, but their bacon faces (“Schinkenspeckgesichter”). This dehumanization of the petty bourgeois continues throughout the song. The joyful anticipation is complemented by the roaring of words that would not be appropriate in the morning church service (“die beim Gottesdienst nur stören”). Horrified, the speaker plugs his children's ears: “Ich verstopf’ die Ohren meiner Kinder!”. Meanwhile, the old men (“Greise”) have gone to the park to sit down (again the submissive posture of “hocken”), lost in their dreams (“traumverloren”). What seems to be a peaceful moment in an otherwise warlike context is in reality just another version of the battlefield motive: The old men think of Sedan. Sedan is the symbolic battlefield of more than seventy years of German – French wars: During the Battle of Sedan in the Franco-Prussian War, the French Emperor Napoleon III was captured with 100,000 of his soldiers near Sedan on September 2, 1870; in the subsequently founded German Empire (until 1918), this event was celebrated as Sedan Day. During the First World War, Sedan remained occupied by German troops for 4 years. Before French and American troops were able to conquer the town in November 1918, the armistice came into force. The Battle of Sedan was a decisive battle during the Western Campaign in the Second World War, which took place from May 13 to 15, 1940. The battle was the most important part of the German plan to encircle the Allied armies in Belgium and north-eastern France.
The sixth verse is dedicated to the afternoon Sunday stroll (“die Spaziergangsstunde”), always along the same round through the town.. It's the hour of artificial politeness: “Hüte ziehen” (tipping hats), “spärlich nicken” (nod sparsely), but there’s also room for submissive gestures (“tiefer bücken”) in a meeting with a superior (“wenn ein Chef kommt”), running the risk of the cream balls (“Sahnebällchen”) on the ice cream cone becoming independent and rolling into the gutter (“Rinnstein”). The children’s urge to move (“baumeln”,dangle, “ziehen Hände”, pull on hands) is difficult to control. They would like to flee to the railroad embankment (“zum Bahndamm fliehen”); however, they are prevented from doing so by strange guards. Colorful, strange flies have been placed on their necks to bite them when they try to escape. Degenhard here plays with the double meaning of “Fliege”: It is an insect (fly) but also a bow tie. Their Sunday clothes prevent the children from living out their natural urge to move. There’s violence in this because the flies' legs have been torn off. Degenhardt intesifies the violence here by using a neologism or, at least, a very rare word: “ausgefetzt”, which means in Fetzen ausgerissen” (tear into shreds).
The last verse is about the evening in the petty bourgois home, “in Couchecken”. The bells have rung the people home, to rest (“Wenn zur Ruh’ die Glocken läutem”), the pubs are empty, wasting their lights (“ihr Licht vergeuden”). The atmosphere is “beschaulich”, conveying a sense of well-being, watching a TV comedy show and laughing about a harmless joke on the tube (“Mattscheibenspäßchen”), sipping quickly the last glass (“jeder schlürft noch rasch ein Gläschen”). The laughter can be heard outside like a gust of wind (“wie ein Windstoß”) by the speaker, who has left his house now that everyone else is at home, or better, he has dared to come out (“das ist dann die Zeit, da trau ich / mich hinaus …) to control that the universe is still in order (“ob die Sterne richtig stehen”). There’s evening silence everywhere (“Abendstille überall” is a popular four part canon for the night). The song ends with another line from a song based on a late 18th century poem poem by Matthias Claudius, “Abendlied”. It end with the words: “Verschon’ uns, Gott! mit Strafen, / Und laß uns ruhig schlafen! / Und unsern kranken Nachbar auch!” (Spare us, God! with punishments, / And let us sleep peacefully! / And our sick neighbor too). Degenhardt's altered context for the pious wish is significant: “Jeder … stöhnt über seinen Bauch / und unseren kranken Nachbarn auch.” (Everyone ... moans about his belly / and about our sick neighbor too."). The pious wish of the Christian hymn becomes an expression of the voracious resentment of the small townspeople towards their sick fellow human beings.
Here is what Ulrich Greiner wrote about Degenhardt in “Die Zeit online” on occasion of his death in 2011: Around fifty years ago, Franz Josef Degenhardt's songs caused a lasting disturbance to the lush peace of the old Federal Republic. The chords of his guitar sounded harmonious and pleasing, and his voice was soft. But he articulated the lyrics as if he had knives instead of teeth. These lyrics had it all. They were wicked and sarcastic, sometimes mean, but they used memorable images to describe a scene that seemed familiar to the children of the economic miracle - at least to those who didn't really trust peace. In his Lied vom Deutschen Sonntag, he paints a ghastly idyll on the wall, and behind it lurks nothing other than the old German disaster. Anyone who lived through that time knows it well, there were and are worse things. But what Degenhardt was skewering was meant politically. He was referring to the eternal authoritarian character who now insulted the guest worker Tonio Schiavo as an "Itakersau" (Italian sow); he was referring to the shameless opportunists like Horsti Schmandhoff; he was referring to the Nazi types who were back in their old offices, the myth of "Stunde Null" (Hour Zero) with everyone starting with the same chances ("Wenn der Senator erzählt"), the German angst and hatred of social outsiders ("Väterchen Franz", "Spiel nicht mit den Schmuddelkindern"). Franz Josef Degenhardt provided the incipient protest movement with powerful slogans and unforgettable images, and the quieter he sang, the angrier he became. (https://www.zeit.de/kultur/musik/2011-1 ... dt-nachruf)
