Let’s get the obvious bit out of the way; people come to Heidelberg because it’s gorgeous. Especially that castle nestled into the lush green valley. But when I look at the castle, first mentioned in 1225, I think of Mark Twain because it’s the starting point to his essay The Awful German Language where he gets frustrated at the rules of grammar, the seemingly arbitrary gendering of nouns, and those l-o-n-g words.

But I’m not here for the architecture, the Instagram selfies, or to revel at its role in the scientific revolution. I’ve dragged a load of students from Nottingham Trent University with me to find out if Heidelberg really is a literary city. A QR poster at the station proudly states it is a UNESCO City of Literature, connecting tourists with forthcoming events. Step outside the station and a giant pencil is immediately visible. This is Germany’s largest piece of urban art. It is a statement of intent – the pencil is mightier than the sword. Close by is a glistening sculpture of a horse guarding the Print Media Academy. It’s made up of stainless-steel elements that represent parts of a printing press. Pegasus, the winged horse of Greek mythology, was ridden by all poets, and is a nod to a diverse publishing scene. This was an important factor influencing academic publishers, such as Springer Nature, to relocate here.

Springer are exploring innovative ways to disseminate ‘cycles of knowledge’, such as publishing the first AI ‘authored’ book. Creativity for me is the unnecessary creation of problems and then fixing them. Therefore, as a writer, the most beautiful thing in the world is a blank page because it represents a host of possibilities as the paper demands to be filled. The thought of AI removing this mode of expression is abhorrent. But for scientists, the creative process happens in the lab. The academic paper that follows is a chore that removes them from their research, could AI help unburden scientists from such formalities? At the opposite end of the spectrum are Pigeon Publishing, an online magazine operating on a shoestring budget that take art and literature as a framework to trigger conversations on topics such as cultural trauma, life under neoliberal capitalism, feminism and (political) queerness.

Springer and Pigeon Publishing are just two of the fifty plus publishers in the city. Take a thirty-minute stroll along the River Necker and into the old town and you’re greeted by Germany’s oldest university and its notable alumni. It was here in April 1518, a few months after proclaiming his Ninety-five Theses, that Martin Luther was received in Heidelberg, to defend them. Heidelberg’s library, founded in 1421, is the oldest existing public library in Germany. And on and on I could go.

Heidelberg feels very much like a literary city, crammed with bookshops, free outdoor libraries and spaces to think, talk and reflect. Cross the Old Bridge and pay homage to the Heidelberg Romantics by following their footsteps along the Philosopher’s Walk or philosophise the modern way, by contemplating the human condition while waiting at the endless rows of traffic lights. Even students incarcerated in prison between 1823 and 1914 for public offences and other transgressions – perhaps Jay Walking – turned the walls of their cells into a giant canvas, refusing to allow their enforced solitude to silence them.

This city lives and breathes literature at every corner. If you fancy visiting, aim for summer so you can enjoy the annual literature festival. And bring a bike, the favoured mode of transport. And see if you agree with Mark Twain that it is ‘the last possibility of the beautiful.’

Visit the Heidelberg website here.
James produces the monthly video essay ‘Locating D.H. Lawrence’ which you can watch on YouTube here.


James Walker is a Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at Nottingham Trent University.