This was one of the more measured and considerate pieces on this subject I've read--a little late to the debate, but perhaps that's as it should be, having let the dust settle a bit around Herr Grass's surprising revelation.

What seems to be lacking here is any sort of conclusion on the subject. Are we to despise Grass now? Does his late-life revelation render him guilty of unforgivable hypocrisy?

I don't know. I can certainly understand how a young man--even one as piercingly intelligent and self-aware as Gunter Grass--could make rash and regrettable decisions--hiding his history with the SS; joining up with the Nazis in the first place--and yet still evolve into an adult of firm moral convictions, even if he lacked the courage to own up to all of his indiscretions, whether out of guilt or, as this piece implies, to enhance and then protect his literary reputation. It certainly seems arguable that Grass has been disturbingly cagey and manipulative from the start. It also seems possible that he was burdened with a guilty conscience that drove him to become an outspoken self-flagellator on behalf of the German people without giving him the fortitude to fully confess his own, personal culpability.

And, of course, like all novelists whose great works tackle the big moral and historical themes, Grass is not immune to criticism of his own private morality, nor of the complicated relationship between literary ambition and moral conviction. Grass wrote 'The Danzig Trilogy' to expose and critique the moral failures of the German people, true, but he also wrote for fame and personal glory; all writers do, even if they refuse to admit or acknowledge it.

Ultimately, I think we have to admit that perhaps the greatest weakness of a fiction writer is an imperfect memory. People who specialize in imagining things are naturally going to imagine a past that absolves them of the sins they don't wish to be held to account for. A 30 year-old writer dreaming of worldwide fame and glory is going to have an easier time omitting certain sins from his biography than a 75 year-old facing death and coming to terms with his reputation and his self-made myth.

Finally, episodes like this should remind us that--even when an author, like Grass, chooses to take on the role of public intellectual based on her/his literary achievements--the moment the book is presented to the audience, it is set loose from the author, like a child from a parent. It stands alone. 'The Tin Drum' and the Danzig Trilogy as a whole aren't any less brilliant because their creator was an imperfect man--even if he chose to uphold himself as a moral exemplar. Furthermore, while Grass himself may have been somewhat hypocritical, his words and thoughts as a public intellectual still ring true. As the parents often say to the children, 'do as I say, not as I do.'

"The Tin Drum" and the Danzig Trilogy as a whole aren't any less brilliant because their creator was an imperfect man --even if he chose to uphold himself as a moral exemplar. Furthermore, while Grass himself may have been somewhat hypocritical, his words and thoughts as a public intellectual still ring true. As the parents often say to the children, 'do as I say, not as I do.'

Excellent comment, Harrogate.