In the Bookstore: A German-American Intercultural Interaction

It was a Monday. Six in the evening. Early June. I had a few minutes before going across the street to the university to teach. Sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs in a multi-level bookstore here in Bonn, I check emails. Germans have an intimate relationship with books, the written, the learned word. Gutenberg. Dozens and dozens of great thinkers. In the natural sciences. In mathematics. In philosophy, theology. The great historians of the 19th and 20th centuries. Germans. They write. They read.

A woman, late twenties, possibly a graduate student, sitting across from me is reading a rather thick book. Enjoying it. She smiles time and again. Not far off an elderly woman with headsets on is listening to Beethoven. She hums. She‘s left alone. I can‘t see her, but the hum is not youthful, but joyful.

A guy walks over, early thirties, knows exactly which book to pull from the shelf. He begins leafing through it, then glances at the cover of the book read by the woman across from me. He starts a conversation about JK Rowling and her Harry Potter series. His selection, her book too, must be of that genre. They begin debating about authors. Who‘s better. Who steals material from whom.

I listen and think. German. So many years I‘ve been here. Twenty-one. So many times I‘ve observed, been in such interactions. Commonplace. So easy to forget that it is foreign to me. Foreign to Americans. Different.

Direct. Argumentative. Bordering on rude. Know-it-alls. The interaction lasted no longer than five minutes. It was impersonal. No introductions. No smiles. Statements. Differences of opinion. Each holds their ground. Argument. Counter argument. Not unfriendly. Not attacking. Neutral. He walked away. She looked at me for a split second. Neither irritated, nor insulted. As if: “Oh, well. He sees it his way. I see it my way. No big deal.”

What would that kind of interaction look like between two Americans, in a university town, in America?

The guy: „Oh, hi, excuse me. You‘re reading Jack Jones. I haven‘t read his stuff. Is he good?“ The woman looks up, smiles a bit. „Yeah, I really like him. A lot like Rowling but a little more history to it.“ The guy returns the smile. Nods. „JK is great. But, sometimes I get the feeling that maybe she gathers material from other authors.“

Woman: „Do you think? What authors?“ Guy: „Well, perhaps Smith. Maybe Richards.“ The woman: „Could be. Not sure. Smith is good. I haven‘t read Richards yet. Don‘t they all read each other and get inspired?“ The guy: „Hmm, I suppose you‘re right about that. But, my sense is that Richards might be a bit more original. By the way, I‘m Tom.“ He offers his hand. She hers, smiles warmly. „I‘m Rita. You sound like you‘ve read quite a bit in this genre.“ Tom: „Love this stuff. Ever since I was a kid. And you?“ Rita: „Me, too.“

The conversation could have stopped at that point, could have continued, perhaps led to a cup of coffee together in the café across the street. Many possibilities.

Let‘s change the scenario once more. Rita is sitting across from me. A Fulbright Scholar in Bonn, for a year, studying German literature. Working on her Ph.D. Her German is excellent. She‘s been to Germany many times, but never for longer than three months.

The German guy sees that Rita is reading Jack Jones in English. Based on that and on her clothing, he thinks that she might be American. His English is good, has travelled extensively throughout the U.S., feels in many ways close to America and to Americans.

„You are reading Jack Jones. I read his first two books. He steals from Smith and Richards. But, they‘re all better than Rowling. She‘s over-rated.“ Rita is taken aback, thinks to herself: „Who is this guy? Doesn‘t even know me. Strikes up a conversation and gives an unsolicited opinion?“

She smiles half-sincerely. „Uh, excuse me? Oh, the book I am reading? Uh, well I happen to like Jones.“ The guy: „He‘s not bad. But not very demanding of the reader. Kind of simple his story lines.“ Rita is thrown further off balance and thinks „Oh, ok. I‘m stupid for reading Jones. Is that the message? I wish this person would disappear.“ Her smile disappears in an instant, she closes the book, looks him in the eye, says in a quiet, cool way: „Well, you seem to really know your stuff. Are you a professor of English literature here at the university?“

The German misreads that as a compliment. „No, no. I work in city hall here, public finance, just an avid reader of anything which combines history and science fiction.“ Excited to have met someone to engage with him on the topic, and an American!, he plants himself down in the chair next to her, intending to deepen the discussion.

Rita‘s mind races. She goes through the permutations. Glance at her watch as if she had an appointment, then head for the door. Humor him for a few minutes, then head for the door. Give him a piece of her mind first, then head for the door. Or, head for the door. But, then again. He‘s not bad looking. Well dressed. Sincere eyes. Intelligent. Maybe just a bit clumsy socially.

Question to my readers: How could this scenario play out? And what’s going on interculturally?