REMEMBER THE CITY

Author: Per Anders Fogelström
Year: 1964
Publisher: Albert Bonniers Förlag
Language: Swedish

The new century dawned amid the throbbing disquiet that one and a half decade later would hurl Europe into an event that came to define the entire epoch; a world war.  By now, labour unions had crystallized into forces of considerable import, demanding, and enforcing the much-desired principle of eight hours for work, eight for rest, and eight for leisure. Astonishingly, even some employers, guided perhaps by a flicker of enlightenment or, more likely, by a calculated desire to retain skilled labour, began to see in humane conditions a way of ensuring the continuous and efficient production line. After all, as abundant as unskilled labour was, the growing complexity of the production industry began to require workers of some aptitude.

Even so, strikes and conflict abounded, marking the twilight of the untethered capitalism that had proven as unsustainable as it was insatiable. In its place, a confident labour movement emerged, which to this day purports to guard the rights and dignity of those who trade their skill and sweat for sustenance.

Against this backdrop unfolds the third volume of Per Anders Fogelström's five-part epic, “Minns du den stad” (“Remember the City”), charting Stockholm’s metamorphosis from a backward outpost in the northern provinces of Europe to the hotbed for culture, commerce, and governance in Scandinavia which it would become. Here, Emelie Nilsson, daughter of the late Henning Nilsson, emerges as the pivotal character. Her loyalty, steadfastness, wisdom, and kindness earn her a place in the literary pantheon of paragons, on par with the likes of Jean Valjean (see review from September 2022) and Atticus Finch. Through her modest but indomitable spirit, she becomes the unseen architect of the fortune of others, saving her young nephew from domestic abuse and almost certain death, shielding her brother’s honour, and stirring the young women around her to take the reins of their own lives. Even amid the brewing animosity between capitalists and labourers, where the risk of a violent revolution looms ominously, Emelie wins the trust of her coworkers and employers alike.

Despite the tensions and the enormous upheaval that Stockholm, and indeed the rest of the western world endures, the atmosphere of Fogelström’s universe remains warm, contemplative, and benign. The struggles are, of course, keenly bitter and enmity irreconcilable. Some individuals prey upon the vulnerable, leaving some destitute souls to collapse under the weight of oppression, sometimes inflicting harm on others as they fall. Yet, for all its suffering, hatred, and injustice, Fogelström's world is never desolate. His characters know what is right and wrong and their choices, even when they are harmful or destructive, are rarely governed by malice, but rather by inadequacy and fear.

More than anything else, Fogelström seeks to unveil for us the resilience and tenacity of Stockholm’s underprivileged classes. These workers of the city’s underbelly refuse to give in; neither to despair nor to hunger. And also, as embodied by figures such as Gunnar and Tummen, they refuse to surrender to bitterness or brutality. The socialist revolution in Sweden, was a revolution of dignity and perseverance.

“She who is poor, must be very strong. The grit to toil at length, refusing to give in.”*

The identity of poverty permeates every thread of relationship in “Minns du den stad”, casting its shadow and light upon each encounter and interaction. Fogelström invites his characters to ponder upon their own existence and their station in society. They measure themselves against one another, positioning themselves with regard to one another. They define, compartmentalise, and label themselves and people in their community.  In both their rejection and acceptance of the humiliations they endure, they carve out a remarkable spectrum of perspectives, each unique and defiantly individual. In different ways, they embrace and reject various aspects of their material want to form unique insights into how a population that is united by their squalor, can remain so diverse. No poverty can rob them of their human dignity. 

* My own translation from the Swedish original.

IN THE SPRING OF LIFE

Author: Agnes von Krusenstjerna
Year: 2010 (1938)
Publisher: Albert Bonniers förlag
Language: Swedish

By the time we reach the fourth volume of Agnes von Krusenstjerna's Pauper Nobility-series, titled “I livets vår (“In the Spring of Life”), the distressing maltreatment endured by the unfortunate protagonist, Viveka von Lagercrona, has wrought its predictable effects, rendering her a young lady whose sensibilities have been warped into a state of such disorder that one might scarcely hope to see in her the bloom of a well-functioning social being.

We are reunited with her in the spring of her adulthood, at a moment when her brother and nemesis Antonius, along with two of their companions, Ava de Gam-Palin and Adolf von Gottlibson, are on their way to enjoy a period of rest and recuperation at the estate of Ava’s parents. Ava is secretly in love with Antonius, while Adolf and Viveka engage in a cautious, though mutual, exploration of their feelings. Complicating this fragile patchwork of emotional bonds is the peculiar nature of the friendship between Antonius and Adolf; a connection marked by such closeness that one cannot help but wonder if it transcends the boundaries of ordinary male companionship. Though never explicitly stated, the suggestion that their friendship might surpass the strictly platonic was shocking at the time of this novel’s publication.

I suggested in my review of the preceding volume (see review from July 2024), that, owing to the persistent psychological abuse which characterised much of Viveka’s childhood, her faculties, both social and mental, might be deemed in some degree impaired. As the narrative progresses in this fourth book, we observe the pernicious effects of such abuse. Our heroine appears petrified, bereft of any capacity to act on behalf of herself. She remains a passive observer in the course of her own life, as though every decision and action taken upon her person is but the will of others, to which she submits without question, without interest, and indeed, without resistance. So it is, that the most significant moments of her existence are shaped by the choices of those around her, whether it be her engagement to Adolf or her attendance at the deathbed of her dreaded aunt, Eveline MacDougall.

The nature of Pauper Nobility must be understood against the backdrop of Krusenstjerna’s earlier and most contentious work, the Miss von Phalen-series, which depicted female behaviour that a century ago was considered highly improper, but nowadays would in many societies be regarded as a display of feminine empowerment and emancipation, and therefore not only accepted but moreover encouraged. In a letter to her editor, Krusenstjerna gave assurances that her next endeavour would be of a more neat and tidy disposition, promising to avoid any further perturbations to the delicate sensibilities of the public. It is apparent that the controversy which followed the release of her previous series had left a mark both on her and on her publisher.

In my updated edition of the Pauper Nobility-tetralogy, each volume is accompanied by a commentary from the editor, complete with excerpts from the esteemed literary critics of Sweden and Swedophone Finland at the time of publication. It becomes evident that the cultural elite of the period, who had expressed considerable disapproval towards the Miss von Phalen-saga, found much to admire in the more polished, some would say bland, composition of Pauper Nobility. There appears to have been a general consensus that Krusenstjerna was a brilliant writer, unrivalled in her ability to explore the intricacies of the female experience within the upper classes. Criticism seemed mild and was typically confined to very specific observations of limited gravity. Her command of language and style was rarely questioned and her abilities as a wordsmith were virtually unchallenged.

SPOILER ALERT

And so, “I livets vår” marks the fourth and final volume of the series. Or does it? In the opening scene of the first book (see review from March 2024), we are introduced to Viveka von Lagercrona as an elderly lady, receiving a visitor who stirs in her memories of her childhood. We also become acquainted with her elder brother, the feverishly sensitive Antonius, who threatens to sever all ties with her should she proceed with a marriage he does not condone. Curiously, Krusenstjerna never seems to return to these themes in the fourth volume. Moreover, this edition, in addition to the excerpts from the contemporary press, offers a wealth of bonus material such early drafts and letters in which Krusenstjerna discusses her work. Everything is expertly commented on by the editor. From these documents, we learn that Krusenstjerna had already made significant headway toward a fifth volume at the time of “I livets vår”’s publication. Sadly, she passed away in 1940, at the age of 46, without finishing her work.

In conclusion, Pauper Nobility was an unusual and more personal read to me than most other works of fiction. The character of Sebastian, with his determined efforts to assert himself while daring to transgress the rigid boundaries of his social class, resonated with certain aspects of my own experience, though in a manner less overt. Equally moving, though profoundly painful, was Douglas’ costly defiance of his father’s cherished ambitions for him, and the old colonel’s bitter struggle to reconcile himself to his son’s perceived inadequacies in the career so carefully chosen for him. The selfishness of Antonius, so shallow in its egotism, finds a reflection in his equally self-absorbed mother, Sophia, whose indifference and vanity are as vexatious as they are enervating. Viveka, finally, is the hapless and defeated victim of this all, helplessly crushed under the weight of the collective trauma of her family, to a point where it drove me to physical unease.

It is unlikely that I will read any more works of Krusenstjerna but I am glad I read this. It was a reading experience like no other, and one, I only need once in my life. But need it, I did.