THE SHADOW BETWEEN THE TREES

Author: Agnes von Krusenstjerna
Year: 2010 (1936)
Publisher: Albert Bonniers förlag
Language: Swedish

”Dunklet mellan träden” (”The Shadow between the Trees”) is the second book in Agnes von Krusenstjerna’s Pauper Nobility-series, a literary exploration into the vicissitudes of the fictional von Lagercrona lineage, largely based on Krusenstjerna’s own experiences. In the second instalment, she continues to explore the intricacies of Sweden’s aristocracy during the early 20^th century while the protagonist Viveka von Lagercrona gradually grows out of her childhood and enters her adolescent years with all the wonders and challenges that this entails.

Two themes emerge as particularly poignant: the tumultuous mother-daughter experience and the epic clash between age-old societal norms and the burgeoning realities of financial modernity. Two main events in this book that mark decisive milestones on her learning curve correspond to these themes. The first unfolds amidst the verdant confines of Igelfors, the ancestral summer abode of her maternal kin, under the auspices of the esteemed Baroness Rosenhielm. The other is her brother’s marriage to a commoner, an alliance that resonates with the seismic tremors of societal transformation.

Akin to her accomplishment in the first part of Pauper Nobility (see my review from March 2024), Krusenstjerna continues to delicately unfurl the complexities of Viveka’s relationship to her mother Sofia, wherein the latter’s veneer of mental instability and domineering demeanour veers towards a nuanced portrayal of virtual abuse, albeit she would herself balk at the mere suggestion. In her early school years, Viveka was understandably ill-equipped to properly evaluate her mother’s erratic behaviour and although she instinctively gravitated to her significantly more attentive father, she was only capable of glimpses of understanding of her mother’s many shortcomings. It was only through the prism of hindsight, articulated in the mature cadence of an adult voice, that Viveka was able to dress her apprehension in words. As she in this second volume enters adolescence, her wits and senses are sharpened and her powers of observation more acute and so she begins to grasp in real time the wealth of flaws besetting her maternal figure.

Nestled within the idyllic confines of Igelfors, Viveka for the first time has the opportunity to have a deep look at different hues of mother-child relationships each imbued with its own distinctive palette of complexity and power-struggle. The relationship between her aunt Eveline and Eveline’s mother, the Baroness; the relationship between her aunt-in-law Zora and her son Donald (who also becomes the object of Viveka’s first brush with the experience of unreciprocated love); the relationship between her cousin Aimee and her mother Eveline. She observes them all and unwittingly juxtaposes them with her own relationship with her mother Sofia.

In stark contrast to Viveka’s soul-searching, her brother, Sebastian, seems to be on top of the world making good progress in his career as a naval officer and writing letters back home to Sofia about each new love of his life. When he finally declares his betrothal to a sweet, devoted and kind daughter of a prosperous but simple tanner, his mother is shocked albeit not altogether surprised.

Despite the respected pedigree and the impeccable morals and unassailable performance of Viveka’s father as the commanding officer of the regiment, the von Lagercrona’s stressed financial standing has for some time cast a shadow over the family’s aspirations to the uppermost echelons of society. It seems that Sebastian identified this early in his life, and instead of settling for a diminutive position in high society, from a young age he instead forged alliances where his noble heritage would afford him primacy without the support of coin. His engagement to a girl of a humbler origins, into whose family he is welcomed as a prince, only stands to reason.

The divergent strategies with which the four von Lagercrona children negotiate the challenges of their brittle social position and the attendant pressures from familial and societal expectations constitute a compelling narrative. Krusenstjerna’s strength lies in her adept portrayals of these intricate social games brought to life by well-crafted and multifaceted characters. The underlying cultural and social turmoil that was about to bring an end to the aristocratic hegemony in favour of a capitalistic class system is well captured from a historical point of view. However, possibly depending on the background of the reader, the themes may not be equally relevant or appealing to all readers. To me, “Dunklet mellan träden” was a significantly more rewarding read than “Fattigadel”. I suspect that I was simply better prepared for it.