Episode 4 English: Klappe zu, Affe tot [Flap shut, monkey dead] – pray, why does a monkey die?
A friend of mine made a comment about the German language some time ago that has stuck in my mind ever since. It was about idioms. My friend is a native Persian speaker, but grew up in Germany, studied and worked here. In short, she sounds completely German. That's why I was surprised when she told me that there is an area of German that is completely beyond her comprehension. In fact, she said that only a friend of hers who is of French origin really understands her in this particular area. As a non-native speaker, her friend feels the same way she does: when it comes to German idioms, they both find them completely enigmatic! – I was all ears.
My friend elaborated: "I've been learning German since I was a child, I feel competent and confident. But when it comes to expressions with animals, I'm completely lost. I can just about accept something like “aus die Maus” [game over]. The sound is funny, it’s what you say to children. But otherwise, animals in the German language confuse me completely and I can never remember which animal happens to fit into the expression. For example, “Klappe zu, Affe tot” [Flap shut, monkey dead]. Why, please, does a monkey die?" So today's topic will be some thoughts on the broad field of linguistic expressions involving animals.
The problem with idioms was not entirely foreign to me. I was familiar with a certain confusion involving animals in language from my own experience as a learner of Spanish: Why do fish bite their tails in Spain when it comes to a self-reinforcing problem or a vicious circle, and why do cats or dogs do it in our culture? To this day I don't understand that. But first things first – what exactly is an idiom, what is a proverb, and why are they so difficult in foreign languages?
Idiomatic expressions
An idiomatic expression or idiom is a combination of several words the meaning of which must be learned as a whole because even if you understand each individual word the meaning of the idiom cannot be easily deduced. Having just said that some expressions can be deciphered with a little life experience, imagination, and the appropriate context (such an expression is considered motivated): Eine Schwalbe macht noch keinen Sommer [one swallow does not make a summer], ein Pferd beim Schwanz auftragen [to saddle a horse by its tail] or sich in die Höhle des Löwen wagen [to venture into the lion's den] can be interpreted as one should not jump to conclusions, to approach something from the wrong angle or to be brave. Other expressions are more difficult to understand (their meaning is obscure). Take the following examples:
‘I think I need to feed the fish.’ Said by a person with a grey-green complexion on a ship in heavy seas, one might conclude that this person is about to vomit. However, the speaker does not choose the colloquial ‘I feel sick – I think I need to throw up’ or the more refined ‘I'm afraid I am going to be sick’, but instead decides to compensate for the unfortunate fact of not being seaworthy on a ship with a humorous maritime-inspired idiom.
‘Don't be a frog!’ This is a phrase used to express energetic encouragement to take action. It is used when the addressee is in a mood of doubt or hesitation about taking this action. Depending on the context and tone, this call can be understood as a shameful urging or as well-meaning encouragement.
The Dictionary of German Idioms (Duden Volume 11, 2013, page 239) provides the following explanation: ‘The idiom refers to the timidity of frogs.’ The online Duden (accessed on 18 June 2025) lists the following under the keyword Frosch in the section: Phrases, idioms, keywords: ‘- sei kein Frosch! (colloquial: don't be a spoilsport, don't be so shy!; perhaps based on the behaviour of a frog, which jumps into the water and hides there when danger threatens)’.
In contrast to this is the explanation given by Karl Friedrich Wilhelm Wander in his 1867 work: Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon (German Proverbs Lexicon). Wander lists 109 entries for the keyword Frosch. Entry 108 reads: ‘Sei kein Frosch! (Breslau.) To say: Don't be so simple-minded!’ In other words, don't be stupid or childish. Wander does not mention fearful frogs. It is possible that the meaning has changed in the 160 years since Wander's collection – or that the meaning was already variable at that time and only one was recorded. (If you would like to use this interesting source yourself, please refer to the Wörterbuchnetz: https://woerterbuchnetz.de/?sigle=Wander&lemid=F00876)
Very few of us are likely to have witnessed the frog behaviour described in the Duden dictionary; we have simply learned the meaning of the expression as a whole. Otherwise, this exclamation would regularly cause confusion among native speakers of German, for example when a hesitant person standing at the edge of a swimming pool is urged to jump into the water with the words ‘Sei kein Frosch!’ [Don't be a frog!].
The phrase ‘Schwein gehabt’ [somebody has ‘had pig’] is a comment suggesting that a person has been very lucky. (In Wander, this expression can be found under 223 of the 264 entries for the lemma Schwein.) My above-mentioned Duden Volume 11 notes on page 677 that the origin of this expression is not known for certain. However, it suggests that the medieval custom of giving a pig as a consolation prize in competitions could be the origin here. The Online Duden adds another nuance to the meaning (18 May 2025): ‘whoever got the pig received something without actually deserving it’.
Why the expression ‘to tie a bear onto someone’s back’ (i.e. to make someone believe a lie) probably has nothing to do with an animal, I will leave open for now, until the day I tackle the subject of folk etymology.
Etymology
The concept of etymology, also known as word origin, is useful for understanding the deeper meaning of a word. The word etymology is an old term, the development of which itself can teach us a great deal about the history of the disciplines of philosophy and philology. When the word etymology was still young, it was about recognising a natural truth that was supposed to be inherent in every word. According to modern linguistic understanding, etymology refers to the study of the origin and development of individual words. Findings about the origin of a word, its meaning, usage, and sound are recorded in etymological dictionaries.
The word etymology is also used in a narrower sense to refer to knowledge about the history of a specific word. The history of individual words sometimes provides impressive examples of customs, cultural techniques, or views from the past. The etymology of an idiomatic expression explains the origin and development of a complex expression and can reveal interesting historical background information. That is why I really like etymological dictionaries and idioms. However, there are also highly fantastical and contradictory etymologies, so I am generally quite critical of spectacular explanations of origins.
The Spanish writer Xavier Marias seemed to share this opinion. In his novel All Souls (Todas las almas, 1989), his protagonist and first-person narrator is a literature professor from Madrid teaching Spanish as a guest lecturer in Oxford. Marias has his protagonist invent wild etymologies for his native language out of laziness, rather than laboriously looking them up before class. The passive credulity of his students leads him to increasingly convoluted and implausible fantasy etymologies. Which does not go entirely unnoticed, as he later discovers to his embarrassment.
Proverbs
A proverb is a fixed statement about a situation or a fact. Proverbs often contain a remark of wisdom or life experience. It is not always possible to distinguish proverbs from quotations; the two are separated by a grey area that contains quotations that can no longer be readily attributed to the works or persons from which they originate.
A good example of this are the many sayings that have found their way into everyday language from the Bible. Often, people are not even aware that a proverb comes from the Bible. Proverbial Bible quotations involving animals can be found in the Gospel of Matthew, for example:
When there is talk of a ‘Wolf im Schafspelz’ [wolf in sheep's clothing], this refers to a perpetrator who disguises himself as harmless or even as a victim. This is understandable even without knowledge of the Bible. The expression comes from Matthew (7:15), where a warning is given about false prophets who come dressed in sheep's clothing but are ravenous wolves underneath. Even ‘Perlen vor die Säue werfen’ [casting pearls before swine] (Matthew 7:6) can easily be understood as wasting something valuable on those who are unworthy.
The following saying is often only quoted halfway and then finished individually. It is the radical statement by Jesus, ‘eher geht ein Kamel durch ein Nadelöhr, als ein Reicher in das Reich Gottes kommt’ [It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God], and can be found in Matthew (19:25) as well as in Mark and Luke. There is also a similar phrase in the Koran (7:40). The first part of the statement is often creatively linked to another statement, which is presented as (proverbially) impossible by this juxtaposition. This creates a comparison that contains a statement about something unlikely in the second part of the sentence: ‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for Barbara to give up her dessert.’ In other words: It is extremely unlikely that Barbara will not eat her dessert. The difference in size between a camel and a needle makes it possible to understand the constructed statements even without knowledge of the Bible. This is a good example of how imaginative and playful language can be.
In the ‘Tanz um das goldene Kalb’ [dance around the golden calf] (Exodus 32), understanding the statement becomes more difficult; the expression must be learned as an idiomatic phrase. Those interested who are unfamiliar with the Bible must first study the context. According to the Bible, after their exodus from Egypt, the Israelites created a golden idol (in the original text, a ‘golden bull’) which they worshipped while their leader Moses received God's word on Mount Sinai. When such a dance is mentioned, it is used in the broadest sense to criticise a misplaced set of priorities, accompanied by a very negative assessment of these priorities.
Phraseme
The idiomatic expressions mentioned above, as well as proverbs, are grouped under the term phraseme or set phrases. They are studied in phraseology (if the study is limited to proverbs, the term paremiology is used; Wanders' dictionary of proverbs could therefore be described as a paremiacon). Phrasemes (or phraseological units) are an important part of a language's vocabulary. Often they are difficult to translate. This is especially true when they are used in a playful, creative way, as in the comparison with the eye of a needle. In this example, however, due to its origin in the Bible, it is likely that the same proverb also exists in the target language, that is, if there is a Christian tradition in that language (therefore, when translating a biblical quotation, as with literary quotations, the most known translation in the target language should be considered).
Another, somewhat contrived example of wordplay would be if an animal in a phrase used in a speech were replaced by an animal that happens to play a role in the context of the utterance. For example, if a parrot appeared in connection with a self-reinforcing problem, you could replace it for the proverbial cat or dog. So: ‚Da beißt sich der Papagei in den Schwanz!‘ [The parrot is chasing its own tail!] This can be funny – provided, of course, that the audience is familiar with the original idiomatic expression.
I find it interesting that the German versions with dogs or cats biting their tails are quite understandable. Young animals in particular often do this when playing. Despite my long-standing interest in aquatic zoology, I have never observed a fish chasing its own tail. I really must ask an expert in fisheries about this one day... My spontaneous etymological explanation à la Xavier Marias is: It's because the Romans liked to depict fish biting their tails in their mosaics and on coins. Literally, the fish went round in circles. This made an impression in Hispania at the time and thus found its way into the Spanish language. [Warning: nonsense alert!]
Why does a monkey die?
This brings us back to the question asked at the beginning: why does a monkey die? I'll admit it right away: my search for a truly convincing etymology of the phrase ‘Klappe zu, Affe tot’ did not yield any spectacular results. An explanation in the Duden dictionary of idioms seemed rather far-fetched to me and raised as many questions as it answered. So I rummaged through various sources for more convincing explanations, found further unsatisfactory approaches and finally had to copy and paste the idiom into my large mental clipboard with the heading “possible, but better documentation needed or credibility of presentation to be improved”. Incidentally, however, I came across a story that at least made the Duden’s explanation a little more vivid – even if it is really very far-fetched in terms of culture, geography, and genre.
But first, let's look at the content. The expression ‘Klappe zu, Affe tot’ is used today as a concluding remark in a discussion or a transaction. It means ‘now we’re really done with this’. It can convey a certain unwillingness to continue the debate or process, combined with a reluctance to invest any more time in it.
The etymology of the phrase has not yet been conclusively established. The Wörterbuch der deutschen Idiomatik (Duden Volume 11, Idioms from 2008, page 419) refers to the custom of displaying monkeys as attractions in circuses. For advertising purposes, this monkey was displayed at the box office in a wooden box. When the monkey died, the circus performance was cancelled. The shutters remained closed, according to the Duden dictionary of idioms.
I have some questions about this. Anyone familiar with Astrid Lindgren's Pippi Longstocking (chapter 7: Pippi goes to the circus) knows that circuses used to feature clowns, tightrope walkers, a beautiful girl, and a strong man (the ‘strong August’; incidentally, Pippi was stronger, of course). Even earlier, circuses were a kind of travelling exhibition of individual booths with exotic animals such as snakes or lions. People were also put on display in these menageries. In short, there was a wide range of attractions. I therefore find it implausible as a business model that a circus could have survived on a single attraction – a monkey that fit into a small wooden box (the Duden dictionary is remarkably specific here). So why was the show cancelled when the monkey died? The Duden dictionary makes it sound like a regular occurrence. That also raises my doubts. Surely such an animal was valuable and was cared for accordingly. I could rather imagine that the death of the circus monkey was a bad omen, which is why the members of the circus might not have wanted to perform if it died. Hmm.
Wander lists 174 entries for the keyword ‘monkey’ in his dictionary of proverbs (some of which are repeated). There is nothing here about the death of a monkey. His explanation of ‘eine Klappe aufmachen’ [opening a flap] leaves room for imagination, but offers no explanation. Wander writes: ‘In Berlin, they say that the police open a flap when they search a house and let everyone in, but don't let anyone out. (Breslauer Zeitung, 1863, No. 518, p. 2715.)’ Grimm's dictionary states under ‘Klappe’ that it could also mean a trap (https://woerterbuchnetz.de/?sigle=DWB&lemid=K06388; 18 June 2025). Could the saying therefore have been coined to refer to a police raid: Criminals were set up and the matter was settled? Affe would then refer either to the people or to the case. Tot would be dead or finished. I'll let my imagination run wild here ...
In a Swiss online magazine, I found a reference to a possible origin of Affe from apel (which is here translated as Low German for open), which would then have nothing to do with an animal. Unfortunately, there were no references or further explanations to aid understanding (https://www.suedostschweiz.ch/leben-freizeit/sowas-warum-die-redewendung-klappe-zu-affe-tot-einen-traurigen-ursprung-hat; 16 January 2024; the SWR has a very similar explanation: https://www.swr.de/kultur/sprache/woher-kommt-klappe-zu-affe-tot-110.html; 29.07.2025). Checking various sources I was unable to confirm apel as open (the Digital Dictionary of Low German https://www.niederdeutsche-literatur.de/dwn/index.php only contains åpen).
What made the figure of the monkey on display a little more authentic for me, at least, is the description of such a monkey that I found in a horror story. In her English-language podcast ‘Uncanny Japan’, Thersa Matsuura has been compiling interesting facts about Japanese customs, language and superstitions since 2017. A must for anime fans who want to learn more about kami, yokai, oni and so on. In the more recent episodes, Matsuura offers texts from the genre of romantic horror literature about Japan's spirit world, both older ones and ones she has written herself. One of her horror stories is about the monkey Fokumimi, episode 159: Go-Away Monkey (https://uncannyjapan.com/?s=159).
In this story, a charlatan with a monkey arrives in a remote village. Here, he wants to swindle the last possessions out of the pockets of a zombie-like crowd of starving and half-mad smallpox victims. He does this with the help of a monkey, which he sells to his audience as the reincarnation of a deity who will grant them a wish. He keeps the monkey on a leash and mistreats it, which only a little girl notices, through whose eyes we experience the story. (If you want to know more, listen to episode 159 or read it in Matsuura's book The Carp-Faced Boy. But be warned: Go-Away Monkey is not for the faint-hearted – it's a horror story and Thersa Matsuura is a master of her craft!)
The following image of a leashed monkey caught my eye by chance in a photo of a gilded cup from around 1590 from the treasure of Tsar Mikhail Fyodorovich. At that time, monkeys were probably still a great rarity in Europe, which only the super-rich of the time could afford to keep and which were not yet exhibited to the wider public.
Depiction of a monkey on a gilded silver cup from the collection of Tsar Mikhail Fyodorovich, made by the Augsburg artist Paul Hiebner (Paulus Hübner) in 1590-95 (drawing by @y0sketch ©2025).
This early depiction of a captive monkey also does not quite fit the proverbial fairground monkey, which was exhibited for commercial purposes and, according to Duden, is the source of the idiomatic expression in question.
A suggestion on the website of radio station RPR1 (anonymous), which was broadcast just the day before yesterday, offered a perspective on the circus etymology that I find most plausible so far: ‘Symbolically, however, the monkey in the box could also signify the end of the performance or show. Thus, the expression “Klappe zu, Affe tot” was originally meant humorously to mark the end of a performance or event.’ (https://www.rpr1.de/magazin-ratgeber/leben-alltag/redewendungen-sprichwoerter-die-in-vergessenheit-geraten from 29 July 2025) In this interpretation, dead could also be understood in the sense of today's broken, finished, exhausted. The monkey is tired, the show is over: Go home! I like this much more.
I will try to find out for you what sources this latest explanation is based on, or whether it too is a – thoroughly convincing – figment of someone's imagination as depicted by Xavier Marias. Until then, however, the explanation of the expression ‘Affe tot, Klappe zu’ remains a mystery. Sorry!
I would be happy to receive any relevant information from well-read circus experts and travelling menagerie fans, as well as alternative imaginative explanations for the origin of the expression ‘Klappe zu, Affe tot!’ by email, post or WhatsApp, and will share them here. Please indicate whether your contribution is an etymological reference or pure fantasy.