# War on Silence: Bruno Vogel's Alf and the Struggle for Queer Visibility in Interwar Germany

Maria Tudosescu

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Maria Tudosescu. War on Silence: Bruno Vogel's Alf and the Struggle for Queer Visibility in Interwar Germany. Modern Language Association 2025, Modern Language Association, Jan 2025, New Orleans (LA), United States. hal-04921721

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Conference Paper<fnref n="1" />

War on Silence: Bruno Vogel's Alf and the Struggle for Queer Visibility in Interwar
Germany

Maria Tudosescu

“I will join in the fight against evil and stupidity, I will do my part so that no one else is forced by ignorance to go through the hard times the two of us went through.”<fnref n="2" />

These are the closing words of Bruno Vogel's *Alf*, published in Germany in 1929 and they embody the spirit in which Vogel wrote this story. For this *Alf* is not just a fictional account. It is not *just* a love story and it is not *just* a war story. More than an individual exploration of queer identity, *Alf* represents a revolutionary act of the new against the old, a fight for freedom from the oppressive rules and norms of the past, dedicated, not by chance, to his parents. The formerly cited words echo the author's desire to write a book that not only entertains contemporary readers, but that will actively question social norms and contribute to a more just and inclusive world. If we consider writing a performative act and, as such, one of the most powerful tools of cultural worldmaking, as Nünning argues in *Writing as Cultural Way of Fact Making*<fnref n="3" />, then *Alf* wields its power by constructing a counter-narrative that subverts the dominant paradigms. Both a cultural product and an agent of cultural influence, Vogel's narrative directly opposes two prevailing contemporary discourses: the glorification of war and the vilification of homosexuality. In doing so, it actively participates in the battle for meaning, offering an alternative vision of identity and society that demands recognition.

To illustrate how Bruno Vogel accomplishes this, I propose the following outline for my
presentation:

<footnote n="1">¹ Presented in the panel: *Literary Alliances, Networks, and Solidarities across Minoritized Communities: Aesthetics and Politics*, 11.01.2025, Modern Language Association 2025, New Orleans, US</footnote>

<footnote n="2">² Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, translated by Samuel B. Johnson, GMP Publishers Ltd, 1992, p. 160</footnote>

<footnote n="3">³ Nünning, Ansgar, *Writing as a Cultural Way of Fact-Making: Modest Reflections on the Genesis, Role, and Status of Facts*, in *Writing Facts*, Susanne Knaller (ed.), 53–84. transcript Verlag, 2023.</footnote>
* The story of Alf's publication – a short historical and cultural outline;

* Alf as a queer war narrative and act of resistance;

* The role of publishing networks and activism in its dissemination.

## The story of Alf's Publication(s) – a Short Historical and Cultural Outline

In 1929, the anarchist and revolutionary publishing house Asy-Verlag in Berlin released a new, unconventional novel: *Alf* by Bruno Vogel. Simultaneously, the book debuted as the first in a series of novels published by the Gilde freiheitlicher Bücherfreunde.

That same year, Erich Maria Remarque's *All Quiet on the Western Front* reshifted the focus of German readers towards the tragedy of the Great War, while Alfred Döblin's *Berliner Alexanderplatz* turned the mirror on the fractured German society struggling to rebuild itself. Even eleven years after its end, the scars of the First World War seemed far from healed, the disillusionment of the young generation with the old ideals and the unravelling of traditional structures reflected across the three novels.

To this ongoing cultural discourse, *Alf* adds another layer in addressing the injustice faced by sexual minorities in German society. Drawing inspiration from his own religious upbringing, his experience as a gay soldier during World War One, as well as other similar stories (such as the film *Anders als die anderen, 1919*) Bruno Vogel writes a novel of queer love and identity, critical of contemporary norms and religious dogma. At a time when Paragraph 175 still criminalised homosexual relationships, Vogel's novel represents — to quote Raimund Wolfert, his biographer — „one of the first works of German literature, which shows homosexuals not as ill, or perverted, nor as decadent or perverted, but as ‘normal people’”<fnref n="4" />.

That the novel was well received is evident from its second edition, published only two years later, in 1931 – this time, however, heavily censored, as many of the text passages that criticise religion had to be removed. Another two years later, in May 1933, the book would be destroyed during the Nazi regime's infamous book burnings.

<footnote n="4">⁴ Raimund Wolfert, *Nirgendwo daheim: Das bewegte Leben des Bruno Vogel*, Leipzig: Universitätsverlag, 2012, pp. 62-3</footnote>
Rediscovered by the German LGBT movements of the seventies, the novel was reprinted in 1977 by the Achenbach Verlag and in 2011 it gained further recognition when it was included in Männerschwarm's series *Bibliothek rosa Winkel*. A new English translation from 1992, made it available to international audiences. Nevertheless, despite its revolutionary spirit — resonating strongly with the challenges still posed by today's rising extremism—, the novel still remains largely unknown to the general public.

*Alf as a queer war narrative and act of resistance*

Bruno Vogel's novel interweaves three different narrative perspectives — the third-person narrative of the blossoming love story between Alf Maartens and Felix Braun during their school years and the two subjective viewpoints of the protagonists as they are revealed through the letters they exchange, in which they reflect on politics, sexuality, religion, identity, as well as social and gender norms.

The first half of the novel follows the growing closeness between the two schoolboys, the proximity to Alf casting a positive light on Felix, who

> “took better care of himself than before. He no longer forgot to clean and polish his shoes, he didn’t dress so sloppily any more, he washed more thoroughly… he wasn’t as moody and irritable, and they [his parents] no longer had so much trouble and so many fights with him.”<fnref n="5" />

Having grappled with his own sexuality since the age of eleven, Felix feels that shame slowly fade away in Alf's presence. Their candid discussions allow Felix to accept himself and embrace a side of him that had been repressed by the religious and moral speeches of his teachers and parents.

<footnote n="5">⁵ Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, p. 62</footnote>
Their relationship is portrayed as positive and affirming, untainted yet by the prejudice of society and, for a while, the boys are allowed to live happy “months filled with the glorious, heathen joys of the unconditional surrender of oneself to another human being.”<fnref n="6" />

Nevertheless, when Felix stumbles upon a pamphlet that contains the Paragraph 175, this precarious harmony is shattered, as he begins questioning both his relationship and his own identity.

These doubts mirror the societal norms of the time, predominantly reflected in the opinions of Felix's parents. At the mere suggestion that her son and Alf could be something more than friends Felix's mother is evidently repulsed: "You're crazy, old man!", she tells her husband. "I have no idea where you can come up with such an idea that your boy could get involved in that kind of filth!"<fnref n="7" /> This perspective stands in stark contrast from the way in which Alf and Felix had perceived their own relationship, the word 'filth' suggesting a profound shameful connotation and moral condemnation of same-sex relations, as well as the broader prevalent prejudice against queer people.

Terrified of putting Alf in danger after his discovery, Felix decides to abruptly break all contact with him, without any explanation and with devastating consequences for both of them. His decision reflects both the effects of the oppressive weight of social norms as well as Felix's internalised guilt, as he sees himself become a 'sexual criminal' in the eyes of German law.

However, when a heartbroken Alf volunteers for war, neither the oppressive weight of societal judgement, nor the threat of legal punishment can compare to the fear of losing Alf forever and the two rekindle their relation in epistolary form. Their correspondence becomes a place of resistance, where they criticise the corrupt system of lies that had separated them. In his first reply, Alf captures their shared outrage, declaring: "The blame lies with those who wove the net which we got caught in!"<fnref n="8" />

<footnote n="6">⁶ Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, p. 72</footnote>

<footnote n="7">⁷ Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, p. 73</footnote>

<footnote n="8">⁸ Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, p. 79</footnote>
Drawing from his own experience at the front, the author unveils the horrors of war through Alf's letters, sparing no detail. By juxtaposing propagandistic speeches with the brutal realities of battle, Alf criticises the mediation of war to the German civilians, exposing another side of the battlefield: "Later we read in all sorts of different newspapers that we had attacked the enemy singing: *Deutschland, Deutschland, über alles*. Admittedly, we didn't hear anything like that, but it smelled like that later in the seat of everybody's trousers."<fnref n="9" /> What is portrayed in the propagandistic newspapers as German heroism and victory is exposed by Vogel through Alf's letters as pure fabrications. The contrast between the triumphant war reports and the authentic war experience is furthermore highlighted through Alf's commentary of their former teacher's words printed in their annual school report:

> "And yet there is nothing greater [...] than to die in battle, heroically to give one's life for the Fatherland. 'That noble character, with which the spirit marks this earthly flesh, manifest itself, and it is as if the glow of victory swept across the brow...' [...] For them to spin together speeches like that, without knowing what war is, is irresponsible and unconscionable. It's criminal carelessness."<fnref n="10" />

Vogel condemns thus the glorified, romanticised war descriptions along with the larger social structure in place, seeking to expose what true criminality is: not the love between two individuals of the same gender, but the mass-murder brought about by war.

Inspired by his correspondence with Alf and disillusioned by the system that had failed the younger generation, Felix resolves to take action on the home front and starts an anti-war campaign in their own town, committing himself to expose the atrocities of war and violence as they had been exposed to him by Alf.

## The role of publishing networks and activism in its dissemination

<footnote n="9">⁹ Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, p. 103</footnote>

<footnote n="10">¹⁰ Bruno Vogel, *Alf*, pp. 134-5</footnote>
In writing *Alf*, Vogel embodies both Felix’s internal struggle and Alf’s defiance, weaving a narrative of queer resistance that is both personal and politically charged. At a time when Paragraph 175, subjected to extensive criticism in his novel, was still enshrined in German law, a book like *Alf* could not have been published in isolation, without an extensive network that joined in to disseminate a message at odds not only with the contemporary moral norms, but with the very foundations of the social order.

Engaged from the early twenties in politics and society, Bruno Vogel co-founded in Leipzig the group 'Wir', which fought for the rights of gay men and their inclusion in the local community. His commitment to social justice was matched in his literary pursuits and after publishing the anti-war novel *Es lebe den Krieg!* in 1924, Vogel continued writing for communist and anarchist publications.

In this context the writer met Magnus Hirschfeld, the renowned German physician and sexologist of Weimar Germany, who was a prominent advocate for the rights of sexual minorities and who had inspired Vogel in his own efforts in Leipzig. This connection brought Vogel to Berlin, where he secured a position at Hirschfeld's Institut für Sexualwissenschaften, a role he still held at the time *Alf* was published.

Another important result of his foundation of *Wir* was the acquaintance of Kurt Hiller, a Berlin-based publisher and influential figure in queer literary circles with whom he founded the Gruppe Revolutionärer Pazifisten.

These key connections in the publishing world and that of queer activism allowed Vogel to disseminate his literary work and reach a receptive audience for his novel, which welcomed it enthusiastically: “Vogel's *Alf* is tremendously lifelike, a deep and richly thoughtful book. It should be read by all people, especially all young people”<fnref n="11" /> stated Walter Schonstedt’s (1909-1961) review in 1930. Moreover, through Vogel’s network, the novel peaked the interest of the general press and was praised for its authenticity and sobriety, gaining a popularity which led to its translations in English and Dutch<fnref n="12" />. Vogel’s literary speeches to its young audience and

<footnote n="11">¹¹ Wolfert, Raimund: *Get to know Bruno Vogel* in *The Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide*, vol. 17, no. 1, Jan.-Feb. 2010, pp. 29+</footnote>

<footnote n="12">¹² Wolfert, Raimund: *Zeiten der Hoffnung waren das in Bruno Vogel und sein Roman Alf* in Vogel, Bruno: *Eine Skizze, 219–246*, Männerschwarm, 2011, p. 206</footnote>
his engagement against the Paragraph 175 were particularly commended and became some of the
most talked about aspects of the novel.<fnref n="13" />

## Conclusion

Bruno Vogel's *Alf* is a powerful example of the importance of literature in fighting against society-imposed silences and pushing the boundaries of permissible discourse. Whether through his criticism of religious dogma or law enforced limitations of basic human rights, the novel *Alf* stands as a prime example of engaged literature that directly addresses and engages with contemporary readers and their lived realities.

The impact that such a literary work can have on society is highlighted by German LGBT activists like Hans Mayer, who emphasised the struggle for queer identity within oppressive systems and argued that its very search and reclaim can only begin by finding models for it in literature<fnref n="14" />. Vogel's *Alf* offers precisely such a model, demonstrating how literature can serve as a mirror and a catalyst for self-recognition.

Furthermore, the novel highlights the need for connection and solidarity in the face of oppression. Minority groups cannot easily resist the dominance of the majority in isolation. Socially engaged literature, however, can foster communities and offer a shared space in which those silenced can gain a voice and regain agency over their own identity.

Despite its marginalisation over time, Vogel's novel *Alf* remains a powerful testament to the potential of literature to challenge prejudice, disrupt established norms, and inspire social change. His 'war on silence' was fought not with weapons, but by holding the mirror to society and confronting its systemic repression – from religious dogma, legal persecution to an education meant to indoctrinate and the glorification of war. In this battlefield of ideas, Bruno Vogel led a fight that continues, making *Alf* a profoundly relevant work to this day.

<footnote n="13">¹³ Wolfert, Raimund: *Zeiten der Hoffnung waren das*, p. 212</footnote>

<footnote n="14">¹⁴ Ibid., p. 222</footnote>