That plan of attack will not work with LOST PRINCE. You may as well try to read the complete works of Sigmund Freud in one sitting. Yet LOST PRINCE is as brilliant as it is disturbing. You may stop reading at the end of a chapter, but you will not stop thinking about this book.

The German language has turned Kaspar Hauser into a cliche of sorts. Someone who's vexing and exasperating, yet basically innocent and naive, is called a "Kaspar". German majors at most universities learn only the roughest information about him, generally in terms of his being an interesting case study for how people turn out when they are denied human contact in their formative years.

But Kaspar's story is so much more than that. It is child abuse, political intrigue, good vs. evil, and a murder mystery all rolled into one. When you finish this book, you still cannot tell the bad guys from the good. All you know is that Kaspar Hauser was treated like no human should ever have been treated, and that nothing he could have done would ever justify the inhumanity of the persons who placed him in that dark and cruel prison.

It is therefore a little eerie to realize that all this took place 101 years before Hitler, in a city called Nuremberg.


Fascinating but depressing   December 25, 1999
 4 out of 5 found this review helpful

Kaspar Hauser's life was somewhat different from that of the typical feral child (there's an oxymoron for you). Unlike, say, Victor of Aveyron, Kaspar was deliberately imprisoned for approximately twelve years, beginning from the time he was about 4. At about age 16, Kaspar was suddenly and inexplicably released and set loose to wander the streets of Nuremburg. Anselm Von Ritter Feuerbach took the boy in and treated him kindly even as he observed him closely, keeping a notebook on Kaspar. This notebook is here printed in English for the first time, translated by Jeffrey Masson, who gives a history of Kaspar's life after his release as well. At the age of 19, two men tried to murder Kaspar; a couple of years later, they tried again, stabbing him several times. He died three days later. Why was this done? Apparently the rapid progress Kaspar had made in learning to both speak and write German quite fluently and articulately, and especially the memories that were beginning to come to the surface, posed quite a threat to someone. Masson puts forward for an English speaking audience a theory commonly found in Hauserian scholarship: Kaspar was the crown prince of a small nation, switched at birth at the instigation of one Countess Louisa in favour of her brat. Naturally, both the reputations and positions of quite a few people depended on Kaspar's silence. Masson puts forward many facts to support this theory; it would be well-nigh impossible to doubt that this theory is correct, even though it sounds like one of Grimm's less cosy fairy tales. Intriguing though all this is, however, the fact of Kaspar's confinement looms over the book, making it impossible to get any real enjoyment out of reading it. The description of Kaspar's life in a tiny dungeon is disgusting and disturbing. If you are at all inclined to be emotional, or if your life is not happy right now, I'm not sure you will want to read this book--it can be very upsetting to think about (perhaps that's why it's out of print). But maybe not. On the other hand, those interested in psychology should definitely read this book whether they like it or not--it'll be useful. I would recommend this book very heartily to all if I myself had not been quite so upset by reading it; forget my comments and judge it for yourself.