“We Ingmar don’t have to beg from others, we only have
to walk in the ways of God.”
Selma Lagerlöf's novels formed the basis for numerous
Swedish films during the silent period with their mix of historical precision,
sense of place, religion and humanism. Her books are complex and not only full
of rich characters but also moral conundrums for which there are no easy
answers. Her characters are often flawed; loving yet sometimes cruel, making
the mistakes we all make before finding their solution and all against a
backdrop of an imagined golden age of rural peace. As Sweden faced the new
century, Selma looked back to show the ways forward and gripped the nation’s readers
in ways that influenced views of social justice.
Not for nothing was she the first woman to be awarded the
1909 Nobel Prize for Literature, "in appreciation of the lofty
idealism, vivid imagination and spiritual perception that characterize her
writings". Her work provided the basis for Stiller’s Sir Arne’s
Treasure (1919) from Herr Arnes penningar (1903), Sjöström’s The Phantom
Carriage (1920) from Körkarlen (1912) and, of course, her debut, The
Story of Gösta Berling (1898), was the basis of Mauritz Stiller’s recently
restored 1924 epic starring Greta Garbo, Lars Hanson, Gerda Lundqvist and Jenny
Hasselqvist.
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Victor Sjöström in Karin Daughter of Ingmar |
One story, published in two books, Jerusalem I
(1901) and The Holy City: Jerusalem II (1902) provided the basis for no
less than four films with three drawn from the first volume alone, of which the
full title was Jerusalem : två berättelser. 1, I Dalarne (Jerusalem: two
stories. 1, In Dalarne). Set in the traditional rural heartlands of Dalarna
it develops into and story of religious mania as a group gains a new faith and
emigrates to Jerusalem as happened in the parish of Nås in 1896. Taken overall
it’s an examination of the impact of social/economic change on farming culture
and, perhaps, the need to escape all that with a return to the very roots of a
faith that is no longer enough to hold the communities together in the face of
industrialisation and changing working practice.
Victor Sjöström made the first two films, The Sons of
Ingmar (Ingmarssönerna) (1919) and followed that up with Karin Daughter
of Ingmar (Karin Ingmarsdotter) (1920) which failed to repeat the success
of the first film leaving the director to turn his attention elsewhere. Gustaf
Molander picked up the project and completed the story with his brace, Ingmar's
Inheritance (Ingmarsarvet) (1925) and Till österland (1926). The two
directors had many differences in approach with Sjöström’s narrative much
closer to Lagerlöf’s text and more focused on the interior life of her
conflicted characters whilst Molander broadened the palate, taking more
liberties and setting up more action.
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Harriet Bosse and Victor Sjöström in The Sons of Ingmar |
I saw a very rare screening of The Sons of Ingmar (1919)
in Cambridge back in 2014 – written up here – and was surprised to see how
little of the book is devoted to the story of Big Ingmar and his choice over
whether or not to forgive the woman who kills their first child. It’s a bleak
premise, but a rewarding film enlivened by the camerawork of Julius Jaenzon
especially the famous scene, lauded by Ingmar Bergman, when Ingmar (Victor
Sjöström) greets Brita (Harriet Bosse), on her release from prison, with both
characters almost set alight by the glaring sun above them.
Ingmar’s sense of duty and fairness enables him to make
the most difficult of decisions and to forgive then learn to love this woman
who made such a mistake and committed such a crime after feeling she had no
alternative. This is only the first of many impossible decisions Lagerlöf’s
characters must make. Ingmar is guided by his ancestors in his decision, a
literal of figurative device that is for the reader/viewer to decide as he
climbs a ladder to discuss matters with his dead relatives. It’s a mark of how
much his life is set by tradition and the collective common sense passed down
by the family and now embodied in him as Big Ingmar.
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Tora Teje - Karin Ingmarsdotter |
In Karin Daughter of Ingmar (1920) the story has
moved on decades, Ingmar is sixty, “the best man in the parish”, and Brita has
recently passed leaving him with two children; twenty-something, Karin
Ingmarsdotter (Tora Teje) and her much younger brother Lill-Ingmar (Bertil
Malmstedt). The Ingmar farm is one of the finest in the region and the family
are one of the most admired and naturally, the hand of Ingmar’s daughter is
much in demand. She is courted by Halvor (Tor Weijden) who is a man of means,
running the family store and is of seeming good character despite his father’s reputation
as a drunkard.
Halfvor and Karin travel into town to make arrangements
for their wedding and Halvor is slipped a few “Mickey Finns” by two friends
leaving him drunk and passed out in a ditch. Karin is appalled and decides with
her father’s blessing, to call off the wedding ignoring Halvor’s protestations.
Instead, Karin marries Eljas Elof Ersson (Nils Lundell) who’s father is
well-to-do and well respected all of which leaves Halvor crushed along with his
reputation.
There follows one of those moments on which Lagerlöf's
stories often turn as a flood sweeps through and Ingmar goes in search of
children swept away by the torrent. Spotting a group of three hanging on to a raft
he bravely wades into the river with a boat hook and manages to guide them to
the river bank and safety but, just as they’re safe, a huge log slams into his
side striking a mortal blow.
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Karin hands her ring back to Halvor (Tor Weijden) |
Ingmar dies surrounded by friends – including Strong
Ingmar (Emil Fjellström) of whom we’ll hear a lot more – along with his five
daughters and young son with the fate of the farm now resting with Karin and
her new husband. Sadly, Eljas proves to be more than a disappointment and without
the moral fibre or will to carry the responsibilities he now has, he has turned
into the drunken waster Karin always feared.
"She soon perceived that he was like a blasted tree,
doomed to wither and decay, and that she could not hope for either help or
protection…”
Eljas turns Karin’s life into a misery and bullies her
brother at one point getting him so drunk he passes out forcing Karin to send
the boy to live with the school master, Storm (Paul Hallström), his wife and
daughter Gertrude. Having avoided Karin to the best of his abilities, Halfvor
meets her and young Ingmar when he visits Storm and it is here when we have
another grand moment when the boy gives him the remains of his father’s watch
following instructions after his fatal accident. Just when we thought Big
Ingmar was out of the picture, he delivers a moment that not only signals his
acceptance that he was wrong about Halfvor but lifts the man’s spirits.
From now on the shop keeper will play a major part in
proceedings and without spoiling it, the story turns on that one gesture.
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Karin protects young ingmar from the wastrel, Eljas |
It’s difficult to compare Karin Daughter of Ingmar
with it’s predecessor as I wasn’t able to watch a decent copy unlike the 35mm Sons
of Ingmar, but it holds up in dramatic terms even if it lacks the set piece
magic reality of the first film. In terms of its source material, we’re two
films in and have covered only 105 pages with 600 to go; a lot of work for Gustaf
Molander to cover five years later.
A word on translations: Selma Lagerlöf's books
were translated by Velma Swanston Howard an American writer who ended up
working closely with the author but whose approach – as with many translators –
was governed by her own instincts. There’s a fascinating paper from Björn
Sundmark arguing that Lagerlöf is well overdue re-translation in order to eradicate
Howard’s authorial interventions and allow re-appraisal for the works from the English-reading
public. His opinion is that: “… sadly, Howard’s ability as a translator was not
as great as her commitment and sincerity to
the Lagerlöf cause in general.”
In one letter form the author to the translator, Selma gently
tries to urge a lighter touch: “And so dear friend I have started to think that
you really work too hard on your translations. One can correct and change
things forever, and in the end, one returns to the first formulation. You
understand, I am so grateful for your beautiful, artistic work, but I don’t
want you to wear yourself out.”
So, whilst I enjoyed Howard’s translations of both books,
they are as much an interpretation as the works of Sjöström and Molander… the
search for intent and meaning continues.
You can find Sundmark's paper
here at YorkSpace, York University's Institutional Repository.
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A 1912 German translation... check out Abe Books! |
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