The Swiss Karl May – SWI swissinfo.ch

This is the Valais people’s friend who, after the death of Franz Heinrich Achermann in 1946, called him the “Swiss Karl May”. In Valais, we will also remember a sassy author whose amusing and sharp barbs perfectly represented the mentality of the region.

Such character traits show us that we are not dealing here with just any pen, but with that of an author who did not hesitate to draw from the box of tricks of modern didactics to deal with humor and suspense. and clarity of great subjects embodied by picturesque characters. Achermann was in a way the Johannes Mario Simmel of Swiss children’s literature, or its Karl May, to quote once again the local Valais newspaper.

Franz Heinrich Achermann has been compared…

Circulaire de la Schweizer Volksbuchgemeinde, X/1971

Catholic priest

So let’s look back to the past. Franz Heinrich Achermann (1881-1946) came from the Lucerne village of Sankt Erhard. Son of teachers, he grew up in a house nicely named “Donkey hüsli” (donkey hut) then became a priest of the Catholic Church. After his ordination, he worked as a vicar in Schaffhausen (1908-1913), Oberdorf (SO) (1913-1920), Basel (1920-1929) and Kriens (from 1930). Achermann is so popular that the faithful sometimes queue in front of his confessional. It also happens that we have to leave the doors of the church open during his sermons, as there are so many crowds coming to listen to him.

Achermann in religious habit: he was vicar in the cantons of Basel, Lucerne, Schaffhausen and Solothurn.

Michael Schärli

Vicar Achermann was indeed a talented counter with a sharp sense of humor, as evidenced by the nickname “varicose hotel” which our man had bestowed upon the Marienheim home for the elderly. When students arrived late for his classes, he would exclaim, “So, are we trickling in today?” He was also a passionate hunter and a fan of drunken card game evenings. So much so that Jürg Studer, the local historian of Kriens, called him a “thug of the Lord”.

From vicar to writer

Alongside his intense activity in the service of the Catholic Church, Franz Heinrich Achermann wrote more than 40 novels and plays. And even if we compare him to his German colleague Karl May, his writing is less inspired by the American West than by Prehistory. The writer had in fact participated in excavations and archaeological research when he worked in the region of Solothurn, at the foot of the Jura. Achermann writes exciting novels for young people like “Der Jäger vom Thursee” (The Hunter of Lake Thur)“The Pile Dweller’s Treasure” (The treasure of the lakes) or even “Cannibals of the Ice Age” (Ice Age Cannibals): so many works that catapulted him to the rank of the most widely read Swiss author of children’s books of his time.

Achermann also devotes himself to the history of the country, and more particularly to that of central Switzerland, where he comes from. His writings deal with Nicolas de Flüe, the Nidwalden Terror following the creation of the Helvetic Republic in 1798, and the loyalty of Swiss mercenaries to the King of France in Paris during the revolution of 1789.

Couverture du roman “The Treasure of the Pile Dweller” (Le trésor des lacustres) by Franz Heinrich Achermann, 1918

Verlag Otto Walter / Musée national suisse

From Prehistory to the 18th century, whatever the era serving as the setting for his books, Achermann depicts characters with tormented destinies, evolving in great distress but whose fundamental quest always remains that of love. The preface to “Die Jäger vom Thursee” (The hunters of Lake Thur) is exemplary of this approach: “May this story achieve only one goal: a greater love for the homeland and a deeper interest in its prestigious past.”

It is clear that out of 31 novels, quantity sometimes comes before quality. The newspaper New Zurich News evokes “A very particular writing with an assertive character, which has aroused the enthusiasm of countless readers in the German-speaking world”. Other contemporaries of the writer were more critical. Thus, the Germanists Severin Perrig and Beat Mazenauer wrote in Achermann’s biography:

What he had in mind had to be immediately put down on paper. This means that style was the least of his worries. He gave rein to his spontaneity, both in the choice of words and that of metaphors. (…) The story is therefore carefree, unbridled and sometimes a little naive.

Excerpt from the biography “Der Missionar der innersten Wildnis” (The Missionary of Inner Savagery), 1994.

This rapid writing and expeditious Manichaeism reflected well the personality of the vicar writer. Both pathetic and nationalistic, the substance and style of his stories reflected the spirit of the early 20th century. In his teaching, he readily embellished his stories with dramatic descriptions or musical interludes. Today, certain anecdotes seem more than strange and reveal an impulsive, even uninhibited character. He is said to have pinched a boy on the neck to make him feel like he was being executed with an axe. A young girl who arrived late for her religion class was shaken so vigorously that it popped the buttons on her coat. Achermann only devotes the first ten minutes of his class to religion and then freely tells stories sprinkled with morals. On both a psychological and physical level, Achermann was a force of nature. This is perhaps why he worked all his life as a vicar and not as a priest.

The “popular poet” bows out

Achermann died at the age of 64 from lung cancer. His burial in Kriens on April 22, 1946 will be remembered for decades. An endless funeral procession passed through the village. In Kriens, we had never seen such a crowd going to the cemetery. Even Bishop Franziskus von Streng came to say goodbye to this popular man of the Church and letters. Fanfare and parish choir as well as the flags of Catholic associations, local societies and the Society of Swiss Students accompanied Achermann’s departure.

Franz Heinrich Achermann’s tombstone commemorates his career as a “people’s poet”.

Jürg Studer

At one time, the following anecdote was often reported. During the Second World War, Achermann is said to have always carried a pistol under his cassock. At the end of the war, on May 8, 1945, he allegedly fired his weapon from the second floor window of the St. Gallus rectory in Kriens. “Have you gone completely crazy?” a friend would have told him. “No, these cartridges were intended for Adolf, but he no longer needs them…” Achermann is said to have replied after having shot down a crow perched on the tree opposite.

The original article on the Swiss National Museum Blog