Six enigmatic stories, two as short as a few pages and four long enough to be considered (short) novellas, written by Danish writer Karen Blixen, under the pseudonym Isak Dinesen. They are set in a variety of times and settings, including one about a French maid in the home of two Norwegian spinsters; another about a Cantonese tea merchant on the verge of death; and one in an imagined Eastern European principality. There is even one about a Sufi mystic in Shiraz who dreamed of learning from the birds how to fly. They are strongly suggestive of symbolism, almost allegorical and the reader is left trying to puzzle out the hidden meanings – though it is hard to do, because many of the tales have a surfeit of story lines, that complicate any explanation.
Babette’s Feast is probably the best known of the stories in the collection, made famous by the movie of the same name. Two unmarried sisters, the daughters of the leader of a reclusive religious sect, live together in a spartan home. They were both beauties when younger and had admirers: for the elder sister, a raffish young lieutenant sent up country to lie low after a scandal, and for the younger, a famous Parisian opera singer. But both leave, after being repulsed by the sisters. Years later, a young refugee turns up at their doorstep sent by the Parisian lover. Though it is not entirely clear why she had to escape, it is implied that she was perhaps part of the Paris Commune, crushed by the Royalists in 1871. The sisters take her in and she serves them as a maid. But Babette wins the lottery and prepares to leave for Paris – but before she leaves, she would like to throw them a feast. This is against the spartan religious ideals of the sisters, but they reluctantly agree. By coincidence, the elder sister’s lover, the raffish lieutenant who is now a general, has also returned. He too is invited to the dinner and comes mostly to validate the choice he made years ago to leave – he wants to experience again the bland food and simple life of the sisters, to confirm how boring his life would have been if he had stayed. But what he gets is a magnificent Parisian feast – for Babette, in addition to being a Communard, was also the celebrated chef at a great Paris restaurant. But the other guests treat the food as matter of fact, lest any approbation be seen as approval of Babette’s decadence. The stunned general is left with the impression that dining like this is a routine matter for them. But the ultimate irony is this: Babette has exhausted her lottery winnings and has no way of returning to Paris. Is this an allegory of earthly existence – that what we earn in this life is expended here itself, in transitory pleasures, with nothing left to take us back to where we belong?
In Tempests, an ageing celebrity stage actor, tired of the endless society rounds of Copenhagen, decides to start a touring theater company in the isolated regions of northern Norway. There he comes across a young actress, a complete novice, who he decides to take on as a protégé. She will play the role of Ariel in his production of The Tempest against his own Prospero. But she has an interesting backstory. She is the daughter of a Scottish sea captain, the survivor of a shipwreck, and a local laundress. He stayed long enough to repair his ship and conceive a child and then left promising to return. But he never did, and the woman raised Malli alone. Now Malli, along with the rest of the troupe, are traveling to a local city to stage the play. But a tempest breaks out, and the ship is in danger of sinking taking all crew and passengers to their death. Malli, fully taking on the role of Ariel in the play, labors through the night to save the ship with the help of a young seaman, Ferdinand. The ship is still afloat at daybreak and the overjoyed townsfolk receive the crew and especially Malli as heroes. Malli herself is taken in as a guest in the ship owner’s home, where the young son falls in love with Malli. He proposes marriage and Malli accepts. [An interesting backstory here too: when very young, Arndt had slept with a housemaid who got pregnant and committed suicide. Racked with guilt, Arndt is determined to keep his relationship with Malli pure until the wedding.] All seems to be going well. But then comes the sudden news that the young crewman, Ferdinand is dead. Malli goes to visit his home, and she is devastated. On her return, Malli is different – she breaks off her engagement to Arndt saying that she has been unfaithful. But she did not love Ferdinand the man, but Ferdinand the character. Once she experienced the powerful, tumultuous, and perfectly choreographed passions of the world of make-believe, the quotidian emotions of the real world held no allure.
From the cold and spare landscapes of northern Norway, we move to the steamy environs of colonial Canton in The Immortal Story. The main character is Mr. Clay, a dying tea merchant, the richest in the city. His assistant Elishama is a reclusive young man, a refugee from the pogroms of Poland and the sole survivor of his family. Mr. Clay comes across this story, of a young sailor ashore after many months at sea, who encounters a strange old man in a bar. The old man has a beautiful young wife, but he is impotent and cannot father a child. He invites the sailor to his palatial home and first offers him a sumptuous meal and then a proposal: for five sovereigns (or gold coins or whatever), sleep with his wife and help her conceive. Elishama has come across versions of this story in many places, always as something someone has experienced himself or has heard from a friend. It is only an urban legend, says Elishama, the wish fulfillment fantasy of lonely men coming ashore after many months at sea and finding solace in the arms of ugly old prostitutes in some seedy brothel or furtive corner – and being forced to pay for the sorry privilege. But Mr. Clay wants to make it a reality: such a common fantasy needs to have happened to at least one person. He proposes to find a beautiful young woman to play the role of “wife,” (since Mr. Clay is a bachelor) and then cruise the bars to recruit a freshly arrived sailor. Elishama is charged with making it happen. He persuades Virginie, the wayward daughter of a French merchant, bankrupted and driven to suicide through Mr. Clay’s machinations, to come to Mr. Clay’s mansion to be the “wife.” [Irony: it is her own childhood home, that Mr. Clay expropriated from Virginie’s father.] Then, the Elishama and Mr. Clay find their sailor: a tall, blond and powerfully built young man of seventeen, but still innocent and idealistic and a virgin. The dinner and the proposition follow, the young man meets Virginie, and they spend the night together. But Mr. Clay’s endeavor to play God fails: the young man, in love with Virginie, declares that he will never speak about his night of bliss again.
The last long story is Ehrengard. In some pseudonymous German princely state, the prince has taken a pretty young wife to perpetuate the family line. But something happened, and the princess is about to give birth too soon, “a full two months before law and decency permitted.” An illegitimate heir is just the scandal that a cadet line of the family will need to undermine the royal house and make a claim for power. The news has to be suppressed at all costs. Enter Herr Cazotte, a famous painter, dilettante, and philanderer, whose specialty is nude paintings of noblewomen. On the Queen’s request, Herr Cazotte comes up with a plan to hide away the princess in a remote castle until the delivery, wait for two more months, and then announce the birth of the royal heir with great fanfare. A select group of courtiers and attendants, all sworn to secrecy accompany the princess. But Herr Cazotte, never a person to miss an opportunity, also requests Ehrengard, the daughter of a fiercely loyal military family to be sent as companion to the princess – the goal being that he would launch his seduction game on the young lady in the isolation of the castle. All goes according to plan and the baby is born in due time. But a local wetnurse proves to be the weak link in the chain: her husband, jealous that his young wife is spending more time in the castle than at home and complains about it to anyone who will listen. But there are the rival branch’s spies around and they suspect the truth – they induce the husband to lure the wetnurse and the baby outside the castle grounds on the promise of a fat reward. The man gets the woman and the infant outside on some pretext and then forces them into his cart and races away to the local inn where the handover is supposed to take place. But on the way, he has a change of heart, and he awaits in the inn not knowing what to do. Meanwhile the absence of the wetnurse and the prince has been noted in the castle. Both Ehrengard and Herr Cazotte, following different tracks, reach the inn. By coincidence, Ehrengard’s fiancé, a soldier, has also come to the inn. There is then a showdown: the husband claims that the baby is his own. Ehrengard denies it and says it has to be returned to the castle. But then, whose baby is it, asks the fiancé. “My own,” she says (knowing it will ruin her chance of marriage). And who is the father? She points to Herr Cazotte. The stunned fiancé accompanies the party to the castle – where he too is sworn to secrecy and the plot exposed to him. Ehrengard and the fiancé marry, and for her timely intervention, she earns the highest award in the land. It is implied that Herr Cazotte later on made his way to Venice, where he changed his name to Casanova.
A striking part of this story is Dinesen’s explication of the mentality of Herr Cazotte. Conquest, he says can be achieved by force, or my manipulating circumstances to induce a temporary weakness in the intended target. But for Cazotte, that is not enough. The target has to voluntarily and enthusiastically submit to the seduction, so much so that no other love later in life will appear satisfactory to them. Longing and discontent must be their condition for the rest of their lives. And he approaches seduction with a clinical and professional strategy, which might almost be called unemotional and coldly logical. His seduction is cold-bloodedly cruel, almost sadistic. It is not love, and not even power, but shades into misogyny.
There are also two shorter stories. In one, The Diver, a young student of theology in Shiraz thinks that birds must be closer to heaven because they inhabit the sky like the angels. If he could learn to fly from the birds, he could approach closer to God. The man tries so hard and seems on the verge of mastering flight, that the old divines in the city grow alarmed: they send a young courtesan to seduce him. Tasting her earthly delights, the young theologian loses his faith in angels: the beautiful Thusmu is now his religion. Years later, the author (Dinesen) relates this tale to a diver, reputed to be the best at recovering precious pearls from the bottom of the sea. The diver says he himself was the young theologian, but now he believes it is the fish that are perfect. Unlike the birds or humans, who are pulled down if they cease to struggle upward, fish are perfectly in match with their surroundings and move effortlessly. For them all creation is their domain. Honestly, I could not make much of this tale.
The last story is the shortest in the collection, The Ring. A newly wed woman goes with her husband to his sheep pen. There she hears her husband and the head keeper discuss a series of robberies in the neighborhood. A mysterious thief has been getting into sheep paddocks and massacring sheep in the most gruesome manner, almost like a wolf. He leaves blood and entrails at the scene disappearing leaving no trail. Guards at his last heist had broken his arm, but he had managed to get away. Leaving the men, the young woman decides to walk back home alone. Cutting through the woods, she meets a stranger in the densest part: his arm is hanging limply by his side, and he is hollow-eyed and ashen with pain and hunger. He advances towards her with a knife. The woman knows her honor and even her life is in danger, but she feels no fear. She takes off the ring from her finger and gives it to him. But he ignores it and it falls to the ground and rolls into the grass. But her little kerchief too has fallen to the ground. Wincing with pain, he picks it up, wraps his knife with it before sliding it into his sheath. Then he is gone. The woman makes her way back to the trail and soon meets up with her husband. She tells him she has lost her ring – the husband is perhaps disappointed that she should be so careless with it, and asks where she saw it last. “No idea,” she says.
A symbolic ending because the ring stands for love and marital fidelity. The couple had been childhood sweethearts, and it was after a long struggle with their families that they had earned the right to marry. Earlier in the story, she had said she would never have secrets from each other. But something changed in the forest encounter: perhaps she saw what she had not seen before in her innocence, that the world was a cruel and cold place, and that her own security and happiness was protected through the violent exclusion of lesser beings. Something might have also touched her, that a reviled and feared man, considered almost a beast had shown her mercy in letting her go, when it would have been safer for him to kill her on the spot. His gesture, in keeping her kerchief as a memento, also showed that even in the extremity of pain and danger, he regarded her as something beautiful and that he will treasure the memory of that fleeting encounter to the end of his life, that may be too soon in coming.