The current love affair that the Germans seem to be having with all things British has deep roots. It was Schlegel who first claimed Shakespeare for the German-speaking world when he said that the bard was ‘ganz unser’ (entirely ours). Goethe was equally obsessed. There are now more productions of Shakespeare’s plays in Germany every year than in England, with the advantage that he not only translates unusually closely into German but also that the audiences are hearing him in contemporary language.
Then there is the instinctive German respect for the British sense of humour, which threatens anarchy, but, by some miracle they dare not trust, never quite delivers it. The story of the man who crashed Prince William’s 21st birthday party dressed as Osama bin Laden, who was not only not shot dead on the spot but was also never prosecuted, plays very well here, as did the atmosphere at the opening ceremony of the Olympics, which was held to have just the right mix of grandeur and lightness of touch.
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