Fredrika Bremer
by
Agneta Pleijel
A Contemporary from Last Century
Let us imagine
our international, contemporary literary celebrities -authors, critics,
publishers -at some conference, in New York, Paris or Beijing, gathered
to discuss some dear and topical subject: literature's limits, its masks,
escapism or social responsibility, or its role in world peace.
Let us make a small inquiry among them: who was Fredrika Bremer? Will there
be a complete silence? No, some of them seem to remember. A Scandinavian
woman who wrote novels in the 1800s?
Swedish? A forerunner, in a way to the English Brontë sisters? A representative
of the "Women's Lib" of her time? Maybe someone knows even more: did not
this Fredrika Bremer write a travel book about America, not too long after
Alexis de Toqueville's famous De la Démocratie en Amérique?
Quite right. Fredrika Bremer is not forgotten. But the fact is that if
the question had been put to the same kind of people a hundred or a hundred
and fifty years ago, no one would have hesitated. At that time Fredrika
Bremer was well-known outside her country. Sometimes her readers at home
in Sweden complained that her works had been published in English or German
before they came out in Swedish.
All of the subjects that I imagine an international literary conference
today would have on its agenda, interested Fredrika Bremer. She occupied
herself with contemporary social and political questions and she was one
of the most widely traveled persons of her time.
When she arrived in New York in 1849, people were virtually queuing up
at her hotel to shake her hand, ask for an autograph, or invite her home.
Although she did not know a single American at her arrival, she was never
without a place to stay during the almost two years that her journey lasted.
Her First Works
Fredrika Bremer
was born in 1801 in Finland, at that time still under Swedish rule. The
family moved to Sweden when she was very young.
She was approaching her thirties before she entered public life. Outwardly
her debut was successful. Around 1830 the novels started to come out which
the unkown author -she published anonysmously -had given a telling subtitle:
"Sketches of Every-day Life". It was not long before her identity was revealed.
She received a gold medal from the Swedish Academy, and her "Sketches"
came in a long succession: The H-Family, The President's Daughters,The
Neighbors and The Home, to mention the most important.
Their popularity shows that the author was able to offer the reading public
something new: novels in which they could recognize their own lives. Her
subtitle pointed to a new literary genre. In the handbooks she is found
under headings like "liberalism" or "realism" in contrast to a description
like "romanticism".
Her readers were often women. They understood that she depicted women's
lives, pains and joys as no one hade done before. Through her books the
family, the household, love entanglements, and the psychological relations
between men and women became new literary themes. Her entrance into literature
marks the birth of the bourgeois novel in Sweden. It can be described as
the dean of Swedish literary history, Henrik Schück, has done: "Before
her time the novel in Sweden had been more or less pleasure reading, a
literature of which the educated classes were almost ashamed. Fredrika
Bremer gave the novel a philosophical content, it became a part -and an
important part -of the cultural development. It was ennobled, so to speak."
Journey to the New World
When Fredrika
Bremer arrived in New York in 1849 she was nearly fifty years old. She
was short of stature, unpretentious in her external appearance, dressed
in black, and wearing a laced bonnet over her hair. She traveled alone.
The world -and she herself -did not consider her a beauty. Many found her
"dreadfully plain" in her appearance according to Catharine Sedgwick, at
that time the most widely read American woman writer, and one of those
who met the Swedish writer in New York.
But it was a simplicity they would learn to appreciate, and although there
was a great sorrow in the voice of Fredrika Bremer, one could intercept
"a sparkle in her, a ripple of humor, and a brush of irony betokening anything
but a crushed spirit," as Sedgwick wrote.
Fredrika Bremer did not make the journey to America in order to be looked
at or to answer questions from interviewers. She had a certain purpose,
and the destination of her travels was not chosen by chance. She wanted
to look into the future of mankind. She wanted to scrutinize the American
utopia.
During her two years in America she was constantly on the move. She traveled
to the north to visit the Indians, to talk to them or make sketches of
them, for she always carried her sketchbook with her. She traveled south
along the Mississippi to meet slaveowner families, but was at least as
interested in the slaves. She wanted to know how they lived, how they were
treated, and to hear their stories about their own lives.
She climbed up to the Capitol in Washington to listen from the public gallery
to the arguments about the hottest question of the day, slavery, and took
painful note of the concessions in the current law to the Southern slaveowners.
Slavery was the big blot in the records of this America which offered a
freedom which in other respects her Europe was lacking.
She was passionately interested in America's many "societies". She visited
Quakers and Shakers. She looked up settlers and descendants of Swedes.
She listened to sermons in all kinds of churches. She wanted to find out
how the prisons were organized, and she talked with the prisoners. She
wanted to know about the opportunities for education and work for women.
She walked into that notorious district Five Points in New York to look
at the slums: prostitutes, deviates and homeless people. She visited American
literary colleagues -Lowell, Emerson, Hawthorne, Washington Irving -in
their homes, sketched them, read their books in depth, and argued with
them. She especially observed American homes: their everyday life, expectations,
women's roles, and social life.
She extended her travels to Cuba where she stayed a few months during the
spring of 1850. All the time she sketched. And she constantly recorded
-spontaneously and vividly -impressions and reflections of what she saw.
It was done in long letters home, mostly to her younger sister Agathe.
Dear Agathe! When after her return to Sweden she edited her travel impressions,
she kept the letter form. The Homes of the New World. Impressions
of America, in several volumes, was published on both sides of the
Atlantic during the first years of the 1850s.
The reception of this work in the United States was mixed; some of her
readers were shocked by her candidness. The letters are a mirror of the
contemporary society, and the families she had stayed with are portrayed.
In Sweden the work became a success.
Fredrika Bremer had been the author of the home and the family and had
been criticized occasionally for the limited social importance of the aristocratic
or bourgeois settings which she depicted. In her novels of the 1830s the
home had been described as a world. Now she described the world -America
-as a home, and humanity was her subject. Her America-letters are written
in a rapid impressionistic style, following the chronology of her travels.
They are a living and incomparable document from the time of the American
melting pot at the middle of last century. In the language of our time
they could be called a journalistic achievement. There is no doubt, however,
that her letters are characterized by a very determined view of life and
by a reflecting intellect which make them into something more and greater
than momentary impressions. They mirror not only America but also their
author.
Travels to the Old World
Fredrika Bremer
was to repeat this journalistic feat. Some years later she again left Sweden.
This time she was absent for five years and would be sixty years old on
her return to Sweden. She went first to Switzerland, then to Belgium and
France, from there to Italy and the Pope's Rome, to Palestine and the Holy
land, and to Turkey and Greece.
As in America she let no obstacles stop her curiosity. She traveled in
all possible ways: by ship, by train, by horse and wagon, or when necessary
on horseback, as in the rough regions she visited in the Middle East. Later
travelers have journeyed in her footsteps and been amazed at the physical
hardships that she had been able to endure.
This time also she was motivated by personal interests. In Switzerland
she wanted to explore the new "free church" and the modern liberal theological
currents. In Rome she became absorbed in a study of the differences between
the Lutheranism in which she had grown up and Catholicism and had the opportunity
to discuss these questions with the Pope during a visit to the Vatican.
In Jerusalem she followed the wanderings of Jesus Christ. Greece was in
many ways the highpoint of her journey, and she was to stay there for several
years.
People, landscapes, questions of the time; history, art and religion. The
result of this long journey was a work in six volumes about life in the
Old World (1860 -62). Although this travel book does not have the form
of letters but of a diary, it is as freshly observing and at the same time
reflecting and commenting as the letters from America. With these works
-and, one might add, the book about England for which she gathered material
during her voyage home from America and which is called Englandin 1851
- Fredrika Bremer places herself among the great travel book writers of
the last century.
In Sweden Fredrika Bremer worked within a tradition following the scientist
and traveler Carl von Linné whom she admired. She too was interested
in botany, as can be seen from her many drawings, but her field of study
was the development of society and social life. Her travel books are part
of what she considered her life project: the search for a tenable life
philosophy. It has taken time, and perhaps only today is it possible, to
comprehend how coherent and consistent her life and authorship really were.
The fact that she was able to give such a vivid and stratified picture
of the America and Europe of her time, that she could describe the life
of society both from the bottom and from its ruling class, and that she
was able to go beyond class and sex barriers as she did, had without doubt
to do with what ought to have been her greatest obstacle at that time:
the fact that she was a woman, and that she traveled alone.
In an almost miraculous way she turned her biggest handicap to advantage.
How did it happen, who was she, this Miss Bremer?
Departure from a Strait-jacket Upbringing
Even those
of her countrymen today who have not read Fredrika Bremer, tie her name
to the long political struggle which finally led to legal majority for
women in Sweden. Because of her they probably also know something about
the rigidity which marked the education of girls from her class: the daughters
of the upper middle class.
Fredrika's upbringing was in accordance with the times: a rigid set of
norms, exercised in a social isolation so strict as to resemble life in
prison. The Bremer family had five daughters -and four of them remained
single. In one sense their childhood and adolescence were privileged, perhaps
even a good example: they were taught drawing and foreign languages, they
took lessons in dance and music, and they were instructed in modern literature
- the dramatic works of Schiller were read aloud when the family met in
the evenings in the drawing-room of the castle of Årsta, where the
Bremer family spent the summer half of the year, or in the elegant apartment
in Stockholm.
But it was an upbringing focused on teaching how to please, with ideals
which could be found in Madame de Genli's once so popular novels. In the
case of the Bremer sisters it was executed in an atmosphere of insensitivity
and extreme duress. Apparently it was even physically dangerous to their
health; to all appearances the Bremer sisters suffered from severe undernourishment
because of the meticulous restrictions in their food consumption. They
were to grow into sylphs according to their mother's concept of beauty.
They were kept inside the four walls of their home; even a walk outdoors
was an unattainable dream. No real food for the soul, no intellectual help
to wrestle with existential questions, were offered. Although the family
was rich, it was not until she began to earn money from her books that
Fredrika had any money to call her own.
A distressing letter from Fredrika Bremer to her mother, written when she
was already a recognized writer with a considerable reputation, contains
the humble request for some litte space to call her own - even if
only a cubby-hole in the attic - where she might think and write. This
request was refused. Echoes of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own
are
to be found in women's literature all through the ages.
The legal incapacity of the unmarried woman made Fredrika totally dependent:
she was not allowed to manage her own money, nor marry without the permission
of her guardian, and she had, of course, absolutely no political influence.
In addition, all higher education was closed to women.
It has been suggested that this situation explains the large proportion
of women writers in the bourgeois literature of the 19th century: it was
simply a field where they could make themselves heard when other means
were closed. At the same time women writers were the first to formulate
new and subtle insights about shifts in the life of society which neither
contemporary philosophy nor science were able to capture.
A new audience was coming into existence, a reading middle class. The novel
became the area where the contradictions of the time could be shown. The
novel became a focal point for social debate and discussions of ethics;
finally it became the very instrument for social change (Harriet Beecher
Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin is an illuminating example).
The childhood and youth of Fredrika Bremer is classic. We recognize its
elements in the situation of other women writers from the same time. Less
classic perhaps in the psychological constellation. which happened to exist
in her family. Her father was not only a patriarch of the old school; he
also happened to be a man of an unstable psyche, and his despotism was
reinforced by periodical and severe depressions. His periods of silence
and bad temper increased the isolation of the family and the vulnerability
of the daughters.
A psychologically complicated web arose: rebelliousness and inner revolt
on Fredrika's part, but at the same time feelings of suffocation, consciousness
of guilt and longing for reconciliation. Her youth passed through years
of apathy and depression; without any light, without any hope, as she herself
has put it.
But it was from this childhood and youth that she took material for her
writing. In her novels from the 1830s we sense her biography, but now transformed
by a fresh and humorous eye. No one has with greater passion and warmth
than she -in diaries and letters -expressed how a misguided upbringing
and lack of love can shatter a young person's courage to live.
In Sweden, her novels have often been read against the background of her
biography. And naturally she deals with a personal trauma in them; in various
parts of her novels her very complicated relationship with her father is
noticeable. Still, it is remarkable and noteworthy how free as an author
she stands from the reality of her own life and background. Already at
her debut she was on her way to find a personal philosophy which would
help her not only to understand and explain her own life, but also to make
her into a real artist.
Form and Style
Many of the
women writers who were contemporary with Fredrika Bremer are today considered
to belong to trivial literature. Fredrika, however, succeded in finding
a formula for her novels which raised them above the trivial: a combination
of high and low, or an "ideal realism", which neither allowed the subject-matter
to be reduced to clichés, nor gave it the artificiality which quickly
becomes dated.
Obviously Fredrika Bremer's novels may to a reader of today sometimes appear
"chatty" or "romantic". Critics usually explain this by pointing out that
she did not yet master realism but remained in the imaginary world and
style of romanticism. This is an interpretation which to my mind obscures
her originality. A modern school of study in Sweden, often represented
by women, has recently started to uncover the underlying structures in
the works of Fredrika Bremer.
There exists in her novels a realistically and soberly observing eye and
a profoundly personal voice. To whom does it belong? One of Fredrika Bremer's
strokes of genius as a writer was her introduction of the female narrator,
the eye through which her families are described and scrutinized. In The
H-Family this narrator has a revealing name, Beata Hvardagslag (Beata
Everyday). In other novels she has a less symbolic name but the same function.
Through the narrative voice a distance is achieved and also a chance to
play with form. Fredrika Bremer's novels fluctuate between epic story-telling,
dramatic dialogues, parts of letters, even inserted poems. The reader senses
that this is fiction, art. But behind the female fictional narrator there
is another, "the author" of the book, who in urgent moments may push aside
the narrator to communicate something in earnestness or in confidence.
The voice of the author may be heard when the narrator's perspective by
necessity becomes too limited. While Fredrika Bremer's narrator stands
for much of the realism and soberness in the novels -in accord with a large
part of her contemporary readers -the voice of the author supplies something
else: the myth, a larger and broader interpretation of existence.
Recent Bremer research has shown -contrary to biographical reading or social
interpretation of the message of this authorship -that Fredrika Bremer's
novels use several codes simultaneously; its complexity is deeper than
a breach of style between "romanticism" and "realism".
She smuggled, as the literary scholar Birgitta Holm has expressed it, contraband
into literature: a message in several strata. She gave to the grammar of
the novel a new and unexpected "pattern of inflection." The message was
coded, but in one way or other it had to do with liberation: her own, women's
and finally humanity's.
She could not speak out in plain language. The times did not allow it.
Perhaps she herself in addition was too complicated a person. In any case,
this is what saves her work from relegation to the ranks of fast forgotten
trivial literature.
Father Revolt and Theological Questions
"All my youth
was strange -I had a constant feeling of being able to go mad suddenly
and instantly," Fredrika wrote in 1832 in a letter to the friend who perhaps
meant more for her development than anyone else. His name was Per Johan
Böklin and he was a young minister and teacher in the southern Swedish
city of Kristianstad. They met by chance when she came to spend the winter
with her sister who hade moved there with her husband. She was to study
philosophy under his guidance, and asked him for help in putting her thoughts
in order, which due to lack of systematic studies she found confused.
Her meeting with Böklin and the death of her father -which occurred
around the same time -were two decisive milestones in the life of Fredrika
Bremer. Under the leadership of Böklin she studied Plato and Herder,
became familiar with Hegel's philosophy of history, and for the first time
in her life she had the opportunity to discuss the theological questions
which had become stumbling-blocks for her.
Who was God? A capricious father, indifferent to the suffering to which
the living beings in His creation were exposed? A dark despot, a self-sufficient
sovereign who demanded blind and unreasonable obedience? Was it His will
that women were subordinate to men, as she had read in the Scriptures?
What did the words of the Bible mean, how should they be interpreted? How
to explain the existence of evil, how to understand the torments of the
innocent, the animals, and the nature?
She could not have found a better sparring partner for her trying questions
than Böklin: well-read and broadminded, politically radical, a minister
in the Lutheran Church but influenced by the new Platonism and Christian
mysticism, as well as deeply convinced of the equal worth of men and women
in the face of Our Lord. Not least important was that he showed her the
road to another aspect of God, namely Christ. That is to say, God in human
shape, once subject to the same conditions and the same sufferings as human
beings.
One of Fredrika Bremer's most central and most forgotten books -never republished
-is called Morgonväkter (Morning Watch, 1842). In reality it
is a religious pamphlet directed against a work much debated at the time,
Das
Leben Jesu (The Life of Christ) by the liberal theologian D.F. Strauss.
Here Fredrika Bremer accomplishes a delicate balance. She herself was extremely
broadminded, according to many almost heretical, in questions of the Christian
religion. Strauss's reading of the Bible was partly her own: that the Bible
has mythical elements, that old materials have survived undigested in the
New Testament, and that the gospels are marked by human shortcomings in
their authors.
On one point, however, she is unrelenting in her criticism: namely Strauss's
view of Christ as the ideal man; i.e. the elimination of the miraculous
and the divine. If Christ was only a human being, and if God was something
else than Christ -he would then again be the "oriental despot" on an invisible
throne, a gentleman whom Fredrika Bremer declares she can neither honor
and love, nor obey: "I have said it, and I repeat it: the man Jesus Christ
means more to us than God if he himself is not -God!"
Her theological pamphlet, which attracted attention not least because it
was written by a woman, was given the subtitle "Confession." That was also
what it was. Here we have her view of life in a concentrated form. She
is a Christian mystic, like Kierkegaard -whose writings interested her
and about whom she wrote -convinced that eternity exists side by side with
the temporal, and that divine grace can surround us in short and amazing
moments of our life.
Even in Fredrika Bremer's most soberly realistic novels the transcendence
of the miracle is a sounding-board, and when she writes about political
reforms it is with a spiritually transformed humanity as objective. Her
Christian belief was, however, not especially pious, and at the end of
her life she still called herself a sceptic and a searcher. She was unsympathetic
to the worldly power of the Church.
The conversations she had begun with Böklin in Kristianstad touched
her own weak spot: the dark and difficult father figure who demanded blind
obedience, and the rejected child's burning desire for love. But they also
laid the foundation for her way of thinking -a freely perceived Christian
faith -which fundamentally questioned the order of the patriarchal society,
its economic laws and inequality. She can be called a "Christian socialist,"
which in any case is a label nearest to her politcal belief. During the
1830s she was indeed influenced by Bentham, and she knew Marx, but utilitarianism
or Marxist historical materialism could not satisfy her, since her own
social utopia contained a spiritual dimension lacking in both of them.
This dimension is evident in her novels from the 1840s, The Bondmaid,
A
Diary, or Brothers and Sisters. The latter is an attempt to
depict a utopia founded on sisterhood and brotherhood, where philanthropic
movements, social associations or societies are implements for changing
conditions. As a realistic model it is awkward and immature, but the direction
in which her thoughts were moving is obvious. Her long travels out into
the world were now being prepared.
Böklin remained her friend for life. Their relationship was, however,
disturbed by his proposal of marriage. It created a severe crisis for her
and made their contact impossible for several years. Usually it is said
that she chose to live alone in order to be able to accomplish her literary
work. Perhaps this is true. It was still almost impossible to be a wife,
mother and housewife and at the same time complete a literary life work.
When it comes to this somewhat dark point in Fredrika Bremer's life it
is, however, difficult not to have some thoughts: so many of her novels
circle in different ways around the forbidden and dangerous love for the
father/the despot. Already in The H-Family this constellation appears
in the young woman Elisabeth's ecstatic and life-consuming passion for
her guardian, her uncle. It is a passion which threatens to ruin the marriage
and the domestic happiness which Fredrika Bremer otherwise voices in her
novels from the 1830s. This part of the book belongs to what is usually
called too romanced or romantic in her -that wich breaks up the frame of
realism.
It is possible that she here faced something that she was forced to express,
but which in reality disturbed and threatened her attempt to establish
a harmonic view of life: the obscure and incomprehensible sensation that
the oppressor and the despot can excite passion and ardor in the victim.
In any case, one must perhaps percieve that the mild and considerate Böklin
-and according to her own description sometimes rather dull -was not the
man that Fredrika Bremer's livelier temperament and more passionate spirit
demanded. She did not find that kind of man and remained single. The crisis-inflicted
break-up with Böklin took time to heal.
Fifteen years were to pass before they met again, but they continued their
correspondence; the letters they exchanged and which have survived are
warm and sincere, giving us a vivid picture of Fredrika Bremer's life and
development. Not unexpectedly, she belonged to the great letter writers
of her time, and her correspondence with frineds and colleagues in Sweden
(Tegnér, Geijer, Viktor Rydberg, just to mention a few) and in other
countries (H.C. Andersen, Henri-Frédéric Amiel) belongs to
Swedish literature as much as her novels and travel books.
Hertha and Women's Liberation
At the end
of her life Fredrika Bremer wrote in a letter that with one of her books
she had risked - "no, sacrificed" - her popularity as a writer. Conscious
of that while she was writing it, she confided in her addressee: "that
I still did it has since made me happy and will make me happy until my
death".
The book she is referring to is the novel Hertha or the Story of a Soul,
which she wrote between her two extended travels abroad. It was published
in 1856. At that time she was in Switzerland and did not have to partake
in the pungently critical, partly downright rude reception her book received
in Sweden. The liberal press supported her, but in the conservative press
the criticism was relentless.
Hertha
deals with women's liberation. With a subtle but meaningful change in the
subtitle she had chosen for so many of her novels, "Sketches of Every-day
Life," she named it on the first page "A Sketch from Real Life." In an
afterword she gives a report of the way in which the Courts of Appeal,
the Supreme Court and Parliament in her country had treated the proposals
for female legal majority of age from 1832 to date. She gives an account
- with bitterness and bite - of all the winning arguments against such
a reform and even makes a direct parallel: "Quite the same reasonings we
have listened to in North America's slave states in arguments for the maintenance
of slavery. It was all for the benefit and happiness of the slaves!"
In her voice there is nothing of the compromise or understanding so very
much present in her earlier family novels; here the polemical Fredrika
Bremer speaks: "It seems to us difficult to tell for which of these two,
the woman or the man, the opinions of their courts are most humiliating;
for her who 'de jure' by force will be kept bound, in order that she might
as married be fully submissive to her husband's guardianship, or for him
who cannot in his bride try to win the free woman who through her full
and free acknowledgement of his worth gives him her hand but an unfree,
subjugated being who takes him because she has no other means of making
a living or achieving a relatively independent existence. Completely free
she can hope to become only through his death or by divorcing him. That
is why I have heard more than one young, intelligent woman say: 'I would
marry today if I only knew for sure to become a widow before night'."
Hertha
starts like so many of Fredrika Bremer's novels as a divertissement in
the bourgeois society. But very soon behind the erotic complications another
theme is noticeable. She tells how Herta and her beloved do not "get each
other" - because of a father who does not want to let his daughters marry
in order not to lose the right to their inheritance from their mother (a
quite realistic reason for the resistance to the majority for women). For
Hertha this leads to a maturing process. Before she dies she has founded
a free school for young people - not only for women but also for the young
men whose education does not teach them anything about real life or their
own inner life. And she does not do it alone but together with the man
whom she finally marries.
The intimacy between these two - the fact that Hertha at one time bandages
the knee of her fiancé - was enough to raise a storm in the conservative
press. But Fredrika Bremer had more to offer, among other things a dream
vision of female spirits who could find no other way of achieving a taste
of freedom than through prostitution. In the novel she is loyal to the
unmarried mother who alone takes care of her child. She praises work -
and cooperation. She draws the contours for a pedagogy of freedom, maturity
and human growth.
She was right: with this book she risked her popularity as a writer. Certainly,
she had "preached" also in her earlier novels. But that could be swallowed.
In literary handbooks Hertha has until our days often been considered
artistically unfinished because of its "tendency." The judgement is, however,
unfair. Fredrika Bremer describes or depicts as much and with the same
stylistic means as in her earlier novels; the variations in her narrative
technique are of the same kind, and the only thing that really separates
Hertha
from the earlier novels is the degree of seriousness.
Recently the mythological theme of the novel has been the subject of special
interest: Fredrika Bremer was passionately interested in myths: Scandinavian
fairy tales, Nordic sagas, Greek mythology. In Hertha there is evidence
of her knowledge of Cretan fertility myths and matriarchal religions. Behind
the "tendential work" something else is obviously apparent: an attempt
at a reconciliation between life principles on the most profound level,
a revision of the patriarchal image of the world which we seem to have
inherited from Christianity or the Judeo-Christian culture.
And still earlier, during her American journey, it is possible to intercept
her - perhaps half subconscious - search for another archetype. Her
letters from Cuba are permeated with impressions from nature, mirroring
a world in balance between male and female elements; a harmonic androgynous
world. She interpreted and described Cuba as an human Eden, an original
paradise. Sensitively she registered the dances of the Blacks - most probably
with elements from the myths of the Yoruba religion - where male and female
balanced each other, and where another and more primordial web of conceptions
could be seen.
There are reasons to believe that she, under the surface, allowed her innermost
dreams of a rebirth of humanity to enter Hertha. But the novel was
also immediately recognized as the foremost pamphlet against the want of
majority for women. The first reform came just two years later, in 1858.
The novel did not bring this about, but was undoubtedly a part of the political
work behind it. As Hertha in the novel must go directly to the king
with her prayer for change, Fredrika Bremer herself had used her authority
to influence the stand of the monarch and thereby the resolution in Parliament.
While she was writing Hertha, Fredrika Bremer had also entered public
politics in a different way than earlier. In 1854 she published an appeal
to the women's organizations of her country to unite and work for peace
- the Crimean War was in process. And somewhat later she sent to the London
Times an "Invitation to a Peace Alliance" directed to all the Christian
women's organizations of the world.
Her article could be read in The Times on August 28, 1854. In the
same issue the editorial dissociation from such a foolish proposal was
published. It was echoed by the Swedish press in scornful remarks, as was
also her work for better prison care and pensions for women teachers. Thus,
she was somewhat prepared for the public storm her novel Hertha
was to stir up.
Obviously the assault on her also had other grounds: her rigid and backward
Sweden was undergoing great change. The class society - nobility,
clergy, burghers and peasants - in which she had grown up and which had
kept her in such a painful isolation, was near its end. The political contrasts
were harsh, and Hertha landed in the frontline.
Posthumous Fame
Fredrika Bremer
died in 1865, only a few weeks after the victory of the reform which replaced
the four estates with a more modern representative democracy. At Årsta,
where she had retired, she listened carefully to the rumble from the debates
in Stockholm. She received the news of the successful parliamentary reform
from her friends, who after the announcement proposed a toast to Fredrika
Bremer. It seemed natural. Both directly through articles and personal
influence and indirectly she had worked for an increase of political democracy.
If the message in Hertha was equality between the sexes, in practice
it demanded political reform: majority for everyone, including women. Fredrika
Bremer had worked at times patiently, at times in an indignant voice for
these reforms.
"A hearty thank you for the toast," she wrote from Årsta. "Thank
God, I feel I can accept it with a clear conscience. Yes, I have worked
for these things. But I could have done it better, more evenly. But
it is not so easy to get out of centuries' old swaddling-clothes in which
you have been tied up since your childhood, and moreover the true and good
resignation stands quite near the false one."
She was deep into a new work, a novel which was to have the title Aurora
-red light of dawn. It was not to be finished; death intervened. For
quite some time Årsta had not belonged to the family, but she rented
a couple of rooms from the new owners. With them and a large group of children
from the poor cottages around the castle she had celebrated Christmas.
After the early service on Christmas Day she became ill from pneumonia.
She died within a week. People from the region carried her coffin on the
snowy roads, strewn with spruce twigs, to Österhaninge churchyard
where she was buried.
The most beautiful obituary about her was written long after her death
by her fellow writer and Nobel prize winner Selma Lagerlöf, who was
only seven years old when Fredrika Bremer died. In a short story called
Miss
Fredrika, Selma Lagerlöf pays tribute to her as a pioneer and
explorer. She lets her be honored by all unmarried women of her time, whose
lives she gave worth and dignity, and to whom Selma Lagerlöf herself
belonged.
The story is also a touching and deeply knowledgeable portrait in Lagerlöf's
fairy-tale style. In the shape of a dark and splendid prince, dressed in
a scarlet robe, Death comes on his horse to Årsta castle to abduct
the aged Fredrika. Selma Lagerlöf well knew how during their childhood
Fredrika and her sisters had dreamt of being "abducted" when they traveled
by horse and wagon around the castle -abducted from the milieu that kept
them imprisoned.
In Lagerlöf's story, Death - the prince and liberator - brings Fredrika
to heaven, where "He, the only one" is waiting. By him she is taken on
a whirling flight "upwards, upwards." But "the next day there was deep
sorrow all over the land of Sweden, sorrow in wide parts of the world."
Selma Lagerlöf knew very well that she owed thanks to Fredrika Bremer,
whose work had cleared the way for the free flight of fantasy, myth and
fairy tale which were the insignia of Selma Lagerlöf as a writer.
Fredrika Bremer was of course trapped in the "swaddling-clothes" of her
time, in conventions, and taboos. But the person who reads her today with
an understanding of the difficulties she had to overcome, has not only
a lot to learn about her time, its way of living, and its society - he
will also meet a brave, creative and free spirit.
We have not yet caught up with her. Such conditions in our world or relations
between people have not yet arisen which would allow her to rest in peace.
Translation:
Ingrid Claréus
Publisher:
Swedish Institute
Date of publication: 1 Jan 1988
Agneta Pleijel,
(born in 1940) is a writer of poetry, prose and drama. She has been a literary
critic and professor of drama and has published five novels, translated
into many languages, in English The Dog Star (Hundstjärnan,
1989) and from her collection of poetry Eyes from a Dream (Ögon
ur en dröm, 1984)
Works by
Fredrika Bremer in English Translation
The Homes of
the New World, 1853
Life in the
Old World, 1860
The Neigbours,
1842
New Scetches
of Every-Day Life, 1843
Strife and
Peace, 1843
A Diary, 1844
Life in Dalecarlia,
1845
Hertha, 1856
Father and
Daughter, 1859
The Colonel´s
Family, 1995
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