Before the publication of Berlin Alexanderplatz in 1929, Döblin had been criticized by the literary establishment on various occasions for his penchant for historical, mythological, and exotic material and for stubbornly avoiding the immediate present in his novels. In early 1927, the author was still defending his working method, which rested on the principle of “künstlerische Transformation” (SLW, 80). As he wrote, the last thing he wanted to do was subject the “beobachtetes Material” of his environment to a literary reworking: “Ich kann viel besser schreiben — und zwar viel sicherer und realer — über das, was in China und Indien vorgeht, als das, was in Berlin vorgeht” (SLW, 79). At the same time, Döblin certainly knew the expectations of the reading public, which is revealed by the ironic observation in the third draft of the Berlin Alexanderplatz prologue: “[. . .] das ist endlich mal von dem Autor ein gutes soziales Buch. Das tut uns bitter not, [. . .] und der Autor hat endlich einmal seine Pflicht erfüllt und sich von seinen überspannten Ideen losgemacht, die ja letzten Endes faules bourgeoises Zeug sind” (BA, 819–20).

Shortly before Döblin began his new novel, he soberly assessed his success as an author. His frustration at the disappointing response to his previous works — the Indian epic Manas (1927) and the natural-philosophical text Das Ich über der Natur (1927) — and at the attendant commercial misfortune is clearly reflected in the tone of resignation struck in his self-portrait “Arzt und Dichter,” published on October 28, 1927:

Whether Döblin seriously considered giving up writing at this point, as the closing passage suggests, is questionable. In any case, it is certain that he was looking for a solution to his economic and artistic crisis.