Year: 1955 (1934)
Publisher: Albert Bonniers Förlag
Language: Swedish (Translator Sonja Vougt)
There are writers of
mystery, and then there are mysterious writers. Karen Blixen, also known under
her pen name Isak Dinesen, strikes me as the latter; easy to love, difficult to
understand, impossible to categorise... other than just that: mysterious. Her
writing has been compared to Edgar Allan Poe’s horror, Fyodor Dostoevsky’s
mysticism and E.T.A. Hoffman’s magic realism but still, it says little of the tales that
this Danish adventurer and storyteller forged.
A way, perchance, to
illustrate this is the struggle the editors must have had trying to name her
debut work, a collection of seven short stories published in 1934. In its
original English, it is known as “Seven Gothic Tales”. The Swedish edition and
the first translation that the author herself approved of, is “Sju romantiska
berättelser” i.e. Seven Romantic Tales. Blixen’s own translation into Danish
bore the title “Syv fantastiske fortaellinger” or Seven Fantastic Tales. The
first German translation was called "Die Sintflut von Norderney und andere seltsame Geschichten", or in English The Deluge at Norderney and Other Remarkable Tales, whereas the Poles published it under the title "Siedem niesamowitych opowiesci" or Seven Incredible Tales.
After having read
them, I can fully relate. This is a collection of peculiar stories presented in
a, for Blixen’s time, unusual way in many respects.
One is that, instead
of being ahead of her time, or at least of it, Blixen wrote in an oddly conservative, almost
archaic fashion. Although being published in the 1930s which was a decade that
gave the world titles such as Brave New World, Grapes of Wrath, Der Mann ohne Eigenschaften,
and Le Mur, all of which are milestones for literary modernity and much
influenced by the seeming progress of psychoanalysis and political turmoil of
the time between the wars, Sju romantiska berättelser is written in a style
that predates it by a century. The language is intricate and theatrical, the
characters stereotypical and unnatural, and the aristocratic setting
old-fashioned.
True to form, Blixen
allows most of her stories to be recounted in the shape of memories. Often the
frame is a conversation during which one of the characters tells a story to their companions about something that happened a long time ago. In some cases,
Blixen’s story-teller tells a story about a story-teller who tells a story. In
so doing, Blixen tries to connect the story she wants to tell to the reader in
her own era. Moreover, it seems to me like she has put an additional layer in
her narrative to, as it were, distance herself from the content of the story
and give it a veil of uncertainty that just may be enough to make it more
credible.
The stories themselves
are of varying quality ranging from pointless to brilliant. The most famous
item, “The Deluge at Norderney”, is certainly the strongest of the tales and
also presents the most interesting characters and a surprising finale. I consider
“The Dreamers” to be another solid performance, which I enjoyed quite a bit
even though it took me a moment to come to terms with the different levels of
narration and the graphic way certain ethnic groups are presented. At her best, Blixen manages to lure her reader into an atmosphere of
anticipation, where something can happen at any time. And when it finally
happens, the turn of events propels the story into a completely different direction than expected. At her
worst, the story resembles a rock anthem that builds up to a powerful climax
only to fade out and leave the listener wondering what on earth happened to the chorus.
Two things to look out
for is how the stories sometimes are interconnected. A character that only quickly
flashes by in one of the tales can be the protagonist of another. Another is
Blixen’s habit of challenging her readers with quotes in German, French, Latin,
and Italian without providing neither a translation or a source. I do not know
if the meanings of the quotes were obvious to an average reader of her days,
but they certainly weren’t always clear to me. My guess is that she took delight
in the thought of making her reader feel a tad bit uneducated in the presence
of her writing.
That would correspond
well to the person that Karen Blixen seems to have been. She has been described
as a highly complex person, arrogant, egocentric, and in constant need of
attention and accolade. Highly intelligent but unreliable. Innovative but lazy.
Perhaps it makes sense that a person like that would write stories like these.
Although a few of
Blixen’s Sju romantiska berättelser were barely sufferable, others are highly
stimulating, which, all things considered, makes me want to recommend this
collection for those who take an interest in historical books and who do not
mind obsolete stereotypes and outdated language.
