Selma’s way… Karin Daughter of Ingmar (1920) Selma Lagerlöf Part I

“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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

A 1912 German translation... check out Abe Books!

The birds and the beetles… Erotikon (1920)

This slick comedy illustrates just why Mauritz Stiller was so admired in Hollywood following on from his equally knowing and thoroughly modern films featuring Thomas Graal. Along with Lubitsch (who this film influenced), he was the master of sophisticated European cinematic suggestiveness with this film containing much about Eros and very little of the more overtly-functional specifics a casual glimpse at the title might indicate…   

It’s not exactly Lars von Trier but for the time Erotikon must have been shocking enough with its freewheeling infidelities and close-relations-relationships

Anders de Wahl and Tora Teje

Along with the great Victor Sjöström, Stiller produced World-class films in a period when Sweden was able to compete on equal terms not just with Germany and France but also America, building on a great theatrical tradition through the war years when it wasn’t possible to import films from those involved in the conflict. The quality of their film production, performance and cinematography was second to none.

Here Stiller takes a zoological view of human relations, comparing bourgeois social mores with the sex life of the beetles that form the focus of one of the central characters academic studies.

Based on A kék róka (The Blue Fox Stole) a play by Ferenc Herczeg, Erotikon was an ambitious production successfully aimed at overseas markets, it featured sumptuous sets designed by Stiller himself as well as aerial photography and a cast of many dozen beetles.

The sex lives of Beetles and one of the film's many witty intertitles

Professor Leo Charpentier (Anders de Wahl) is the entomologist in question and he is almost totally absorbed in his studies even if he can only attract a half dozen students to his stultifying lectures. His wife Irene (Tora Tejz) is left alone top her own devices and these prove not inconsiderable.

She drops off Leo’s forgotten brief case at the university and then checks her hectic diary: “2pm, teach the furrier some patience, 3pm go flying with Baron Felix…” and off she goes as Leo beetles off to prepare for his passion.

Karin Molander keener than most of the Professor's students...

At the University, Leo’s niece Marthe (Karin Molander) works diligently drawing beetles as well as drawing male students to her like bees to a flower. Listening in, she is  rather too excited by her uncle's discussion on and is greeted with a disapproving look from the elderly Professor Sidonius (Torsten Hammarén), poised like an arthritic preying mantis.

Marthe dotes on Uncle Leo and thinks Aunt Irene equally marvellous oblivious to her wide range of friendships but then she has her own reasons for flattery.

Irene spends an awfully long time not deciding on what furs to buy and then tells the exasperated shop owner that she will return tomorrow.She bumps into her friend the Baron (Vilhelm Bryde) in his 100 horsepower sports car: how the other half lived in 1920's Stockholm.

Up, up and away...

Irene makes her appointment with the Baron and off they fly up into the friendly sky. Leo’s best friend is a handsome sculptor Preben Wells (Lars Hanson, didn’t really need to mention “handsome” there did I?) who spots the couple and the plane: is he interested for his pal’s sake or his own?

Henrik Jaenzon’s cinematography is, like much else in the film , excellent and the aerial shots are fascinating especially as the plane flies close to ground passing over Preben as he looks up in concern.

A dinner party is held at the house and we see the complex relationship between Preben and Irene as she plays a love song on the piano, "Jeg Elsker Dig" (I Love You) and he smokes his pipe lost in thought – not surprisingly given the rather risqué dress she is wearing: the Twenties obviously started roaring early on in Sweden.

After they have eaten the party head off to the theatre to watch a ballet about the infidelity of an Arabian queen: Schaname. It's fascinating to watch a ballet from this period and the staging and choreography are spectacular with dancers Martin Oscár as the Shah and Carina Ari as the tragic herione Schaname.

A night at the opera

The show’s adult themes challenge the watchers as Irene looks at the Baron, Preben looks at her and Leo thinks perhaps of beetles… There are some witty shots of the audience as one wife pulls the opera glasses from her husband as he spends rather too much time admiring the leading dancer.

Don't look now...

Earlier Leo had calmly discussed how many mates specific beetles have as in some cases “one female is never enough”, and it’s not just some of the audience in the ballet that have similar perspectives. But beetles are more straightforward than people and what follows is a confusion of motives and interpretation as everyone miss-understands everyone else.

 

Preben might be worried for Leo and Irene but he also wants Irene and her splendid wardrobe for himself. But, the Professor’s wife is seemingly engaged in pursuit of the dashing Baron… her signals are confusing.

Tora Teje

At the same time, Professor Leo is oblivious not just to his wife’s obvious courting displays but also the close admiration of his niece (and I really hope she’s not a blood relative!).

Things come to a head when Irene returns to the frustrated furrier and sees Preben’s model try to order an expensive stole on his account… She leaves before the young lady’s request is declined after a phone call to the artist.

Then Preben sees the Baron enter an apartment with a young woman who looks very much like Irene… Both are now feeling betrayed by the other and as Preben points the finger in front of the astonished Leo, Irene heads off back to mother (Elin Lagergren) whilst the sculptor urges the Professor to seek satisfaction from the Baron: a duel that can surely have only one winner!

Preben is concerned for Leo's honour

No spoilers:  The various strands are tied up very neatly in a well-balanced closing sequence which I won’t reveal. The performances are superb with Tora Teje the stand out as her boredom and thrill-seeking is revealed as something else all together as  the real sadness in her life comes to the fore.

I watched the Kino DVD which comes with a really interesting modern score from Bruce Bennett which works around the action, creating a mood slightly at odds with some of the emotional shifts but none-the-less it's very interesting musically. For me it succeeds in connecting over the whole film by mirroring the uncertainty of the characters’ motivations and the film’s detached and forensic approach to its subjects. 

It’s also worth mentioning the inter-titles which feature illustrations passing sneaky comment on the story and characters… very post-modern design from Alva Lindbohm Lundin.

Erotikon is available direct from Kino or from online retailers named after a big river in Brazil.