He was a writer, poet, thinker, culture and life expert. And one of the last intellectuals in post-war Germany. On the death of Hans Magnus Enzensberger.
In “Wirrwarr”, one of his last volumes of poetry, Hans Magnus Enzensberger played through the case of the case, the death. The poem does not promise the “sympathy” it bears in the title. It lets people file by who will be professionally involved with the dead, from the doctor who issues the death certificate to the innkeeper who hosts the funeral feast. Rather casually, the bereaved come into view, with exclamation marks, the maggots and microbes. Brass band and pastor are to be expected at the cemetery, but not representatives of the hereafter, and if they are, then very earthly: “Perhaps, perhaps not, / a small criminal court will convene if there is an appointment at the Last Judgment / at the Third Senate for you should be free.”