Przypisy
Original quote: ‘Narzeczeństwo odgrywało niegdyś dużą rolę w życiu młodzieży, zwłaszcza niezamożnej. Młody człowiek – student – odnajmował np. pokój w domu, gdzie była córka, panna „przy rodzicach”. Szara godzina, osamotnienie, brak elementu kobiecego w życiu, jedno, drugie czulsze słówko, przelotny pocałunek – i ani się obejrzał, jak był związany, panna uważała go za narzeczonego. Albo na jakimś baliku młodzian rozmarzony paroma kieliszkami, tańcząc z panną, która mu się podobała (czasem nawet nie zanadto), powiedział parę słów, nieopatrznych – paf! ptaszek w klatce, narzeczony.’ (T. Żeleński (Boy), “Narzeczeni” [The engaged couple], in: idem, Reflektorem w mrok. Wybór publicystyki [A searchlight into the dark. Selected publications], selection, introduction and edited by A. Z. Makowiecki (Warsaw: 1984), p. 328).
[Unless indicated otherwise, English versions of quotations were translated from Polish.]
B. Prus, Lalka (Warsaw: 1982), vol. 2, p. 242. The novel was translated into English as The Doll in 1972, and has a few editions, e.g. The Doll, transl. by David Welsh (rev. by D. Tołczyk and A. Zaranko), introduction by S. Barańczak (New York: 2017).
B. Prus, Lalka, vol. 2, pp. 242-244.
H. Sienkiewicz, Bez dogmatu, ed. T. Bujnicki (Wrocław: 2002), p. 107. The novel was translated into English by Iza Young as Without dogma. A novel of Modern Poland (Boston: 1893).
H. Sienkiewicz, Rodzina Połanieckich (Warsaw: 1978), p. 176. The novel was translated into English by Jeremiah Curtin as Children of the Soil (London: 1898).
For a long time it was generally considered that even if a suitor asked for the hand of a woman in person, it was not befitting for the young people to make any financial arrangements themselves. I discussed the evolution of the role of parents in arranging and concluding marriages in my text: “Narzeczeni i rodzice. Zaproszenia ślubne z końca XIX i początku XX wieku jako zwierciadło przemian obyczajowych” [The engaged and the parents. Wedding invitations from the turn of the 20th century as a reflection of the changing customs], in: Prace Polonistyczne [Studies in Polish Literature] series LXI, vol. II (2006); see also: D. Kałwa, Polska doby rozbiorów i międzywojenna [Poland at the time of the partitions of Poland and between the wars], in: Obyczaje w Polsce. Od średniowiecza do czasów współczesnych [Customs in Poland. From the Middle Ages to the present day], ed. A Chwalba (Warsaw: 2004), p. 246.
J. Fedorowicz, J. Konopińska, Marianna i róże. Życie codzienne w Wielkopolsce w latach 1890-1914 z tradycji rodzinnej [Marianna and roses. Everyday life in Greater Poland between 1890 and 1914 from family tradition], 2nd edition, (Poznań: [no date]), p. 419.
M. Rościszewski, Dobry ton. Szkoła pożycia z ludźmi wszelkich stanów w stosunkach poufnych i ceremonialnych. Umiejętność dystyngowanego zachowania się w salonie, w teatrze, w resursie, w sklepie, na ulicy i t.p. Zwyczaje i obyczaje życia towarzyskiego w różnych jego przejawach. Podręcznik praktyczny dla pań i panów opracowany według najświeższych źródeł obcych i osobistych spostrzeżeń autora na gruncie swojskim [Bon ton. School of living with people of all states in confidential and ceremonial relations. The ability to behave in a distinguished manner in a salon, theatre, restaurant, shop, on the street, etc. The customs and habits of social life in its various manifestations. A practical handbook for ladies and gentlemen, based on the latest foreign sources and the author's personal observations in his native land] (Warsaw-Lviv: 1905), p. 130. All quotations from functional texts from the period in Polish include original spelling.
Przewodnik zakochanych, czyli Jak zdobyć szczęście w miłości i powodzenie u kobiet z dołączeniem Rozmówek salonowych i towarzyskich i Zbioru listów miłosnych [Lovers’ guidebook, or how to win happiness in love and success with women, with the addition of Salon and society phrasebooks and a Collection of love letters] by M.A. Zawadzki (the author of Polski sekretarz dla wszystkich [Polish secretary for all]) ((Warsaw: 1903) reprinted: Iskry Publishing House, no place, no date), pp. 44-45.
Even though already in 1874 Bolesław Prus did mention the fact that as emancipation progressed ‘in London, some mamma’s boy sued a maiden for… seduction… and that he won the case, though he gained little because the court priced his youthful virtue at only one shilling…’ (Kolce [Spikes] issue 31, dated 1 August 1874), he offered it more as an example of a rare sensation. Comments included in other contemporary periodicals (Gazeta Polska [Polish Newspaper] issue 154) were of a similar nature; they were quoted by Zygmunt Szweykowski in a note related to the fragment: ‘It is known that in England where it is not forbidden to conduct paternity inquiry and where the law cares for young lasses, if a seducer promises to marry a girl, he may be requested to keep his commitment and if he resists, he may be liable to monetary compensation or imprisonment (…) However, no one has ever seen a young lad sue a young person who promised to marry him. Not until recently, that is, when on the 25th day of June in London that exact thing happened and a court of jurors, following the law, could not do anything other than agree with a rather indelicate young lad who sought rectification. It was a case of a broken promise (…) that was undeniable, though it had never been seen before. The law says nothing about the sex of the party aggrieved by a breaking of promise. Therefore, the young man’s case was legitimate. Nonetheless, considering the fact that it would be absolutely ridiculous to treat the young lad and the maiden who failed him equally, the court of jurors sentenced her to pay him one shilling (…) of compensation. Thus, the case could be considered a win for him in moral terms, as the other party was sentenced to cover the costs; however, he was granted no right to compensation.’ (B. Prus, Kroniki [Chronicles], ed. Z. Szweykowski (Warsaw: 1956), vol. 1, part 1, pp. 338-339).
B. Prus, Lalka, vol. 2, p. 338.
Ibid., vol. 2, p. 339.
The suicide of Cynadrowski, a postal clerk, in love with Eufemia, who discarded him to focus on Ludwik Krukowski, initially even elevated her worth in the eyes of the joyful fiancé, yet after a conversation in which she quoted that ill-fated rule, the shocked ‘loving Ludwik’ simply ran away from his fiancée and decided to immediately leave Iksinów shouting to his sister: ‘I don’t want Femcia!… I don’t want to know her anymore… I don’t want to hear about her… This woman not only has the courage to say that she toyed, t-o-y-e-d, you hear me, with this wretched clerk, but she also doesn’t realise what she said!’ (B. Prus, Emancypantki (Warsaw: 1998), vol. I-II, pp. 452-453). The novel was translated into English by Stephanie Kraft as Emancipated Women (Amherst: 2008).
Ibid., vol. III-IV pp. 166-167.
T. Żeleński (Boy), “Narzeczeni”, in: ibid., pp. 330-331.
Though suspicious of Helena Norska, Ada Solska and her aunt were grateful to the maiden for tactfully breaking her engagement with Stefan (B. Prus, Emancypantki, vol. III-IV, p. 222).
H. Sienkiewicz, Rodzina Połanieckich, pp. 202, 209.
The undeniably comical character of the ‘bachelors’ plot’ is perfectly depicted in this fragment of a conversation among family members:
‘“For the love of God! What is this rubbish?! I, truly, cannot offer Jadzia to marry him. May this sickness go one way or the other. Who knows what this is. His granduncle was a hothead.”
“Well now! There you go! It’s hereditary. I even remember reading that insanity doesn’t pass directly but it zigzags.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that but I remember Mr. Głębocki well; he started with idiocy: he used to walk through the fields saying incessantly: my flute, my flute, my flute!”
“That doesn’t bode well. Adam already has a craze, idiocy is just around the corner. He’ll be going through the fields like his gramps moaning: my dominoes, my dominoes! What say you, Jadzia?”
“Pff, you're delirious!” she scoffed. “Mr. Adam is just as crazy as you are.”
(…)
“Dear Jadzia, this is no joke!” Mrs. Tekla stated with all seriousness, clearly terrified. “Jaś is right to be worried about you. This requires proper consideration. How fortunate that he helped me recall that. Hereditary madness! Oh my! I shall bear that in mind! He has an evil gaze!”
“Quite evil,” Jan confirmed earnestly. “His eyes are dark, and squinted.”
“Oh give it a rest!” Jadzia mumbled angrily and Wentzel switched the topic feeling that any moment they would both burst out laughing because of the old lady’s terrified expression.’
Original quote:
„– Jezus, Maria! Co ty pleciesz! Ja, doprawdy, Jadzi nie dam za niego. Niech się ta choroba jakoś
wyklaruje. Kto wie, co to jest. Jego stryjeczny dziad był furiatem.
– A co? Widzi babcia! To dziedziczne. Ja nawet czytałem, że obłąkanie nie idzie w prostej linii, ale tak
jakoś zygzakiem.
– Tego nie wiem, ale pana Pawła Głębockiego pamiętam dobrze; zaczął od idiotyzmu: chodził po
polach i powtarzał bezustannie: mój flet, mój flet, mój flet!
– Coraz gorsze prognostyki. Już Adam ma bzika, do idiotyzmu krok został. Będzie chodził jak dziadunio po polach i jęczał: moje domino, moje domino! Uważasz, Jadziu?
– Et, bredzisz! – oburzyła się. – Pan Adam takiż wariat jak i ty.
[…]
– Moja Jadziu, to wcale nie żarty! – upomniała serio pani Tekla, istotnie przerażona. – Jaś ma rację,
że lęka się o ciebie. Nad tym trzeba dobrze się namyślić. Szczęściem, że mi to przypomniał. Dziedziczna wariacja! Ho, ho! Ja to wezmę pod uwagę! On ma złe oczy!
– Bardzo złe – potakiwał Jan poważnie – jakieś bure, i zezuje.
– Dajże raz temu spokój! – mruknęła gniewnie panienka, a Wentzel zagadał kwestię, czując, że lada
chwila obydwa wybuchną śmiechem z miny wystraszonej staruszki.”
(M. Rodziewiczówna, Między ustami a brzegiem pucharu (Warsaw: 1987), p. 115).
Ibid., p. 118.
Ibid., p. 120.
M. Rodziewiczówna, Kądziel [Woman’s inheritance] (Cracow: 1988), p. 80.
M. Samozwaniec, Maria i Magdalena [Maria and Magdalena] (Szczecin: 1989), vol. 1, p. 224.
I. Krzywicka, Wyznania gorszycielki [Confessions of a scandalist], ed. A. Tuszyńska (Warsaw: 1992), pp. 134-135. Speaking based on his extensive experience as a medical doctor, Boy-Żeleński commented in his already referenced text the engagement relations of that time: ‘Besides, in 50-90% of cases, he had a venereal disease. (…) He had time to seek treatment as the engagement period lasted so long, but he didn’t have the money or the patience to do it. So usually as a wedding gift he brought an untreated venereal disease into the marriage.’ (T. Żeleński (Boy), “Narzeczeni”, in: ibid., p. 330).
In a conversation with Połaniecki, the lawyer offered a mercilessly sober assessment of his situation and the fiancée's motivation: ‘The situation is this: if my marriage does not happen or even gets delayed for a few months, I’m doomed and I can kiss my position, my credit, my Krzemień and everything that I have goodbye. I told you that I’m running on fumes – and I need to stop. Miss Krasławska is not marrying me for love but because she is twenty-nine and she considers me if not the perfect match than at least a satisfactory one. If it turns out I’m not as good as she thinks I am, she’ll break up with me. If the ladies realise today that I sold the wood in Krzemień because I had to – tomorrow I would get a rejection. (…) If I don’t challenge Gątowski, they could break up with me ‘cause I’m a scoundrel, if I do challenge him, remember they are bigots and women who care the most about appearances (like no one I have ever known) – so they will break up with me ‘cause I’m a troublemaker. If I shoot Gątowski, they will break up ‘cause I’m a killer; if he shoots me, they will break up with me ‘cause I’m an oaf who lets himself be offended and beaten. It’s a nine to ten chance that they will do just that. Now you understand why I told you that I’m doomed and that I can kiss my credit, my position and Krzemień even goodbye (…) Oh, good sir, you don’t know these women. They settled for Mr. Maszko for lack of anything better because Mr. Maszko was successful… When the slightest shadow is cast on my property, my standing or my position, they will discard me without mercy and then they will toss mountains at me only to hide themselves from the world…’
Original quote: ‘Położenie jest takie: jeśli moje małżeństwo nie dojdzie do skutku albo nawet odwlecze się na jakie kilka miesięcy, diabli wezmą mnie, moje stanowisko, mój kredyt, mój Krzemień i wszystko, co mam. Powiedziałem ci, że jadę resztką pary – i muszę stanąć. Panna Krasławska nie wychodzi za mnie z miłości, tylko dlatego, że ma dwadzieścia dziewięć lat i że wydaję się jej, jeśli nie wymarzoną, to przynajmniej dostateczną partią. Jeżeli się tylko pokaże, że nie jestem taką, jak myśli, to zerwie ze mną. Gdyby te panie dziś dowiedziały się, żem sprzedał dąbrowę na Krzemieniu z potrzeby – jutro miałbym rekuzę. […] Gdybym nie wyzwał Gątowskiego, mogą ze mną zerwać jako z szują bez honoru, jeśli go wyzwę – pamiętaj, że to są dewotki, a prócz tego kobiety tak przestrzegające pozorów, jak drugich nie znam – więc zerwą ze mną, jako z awanturnikiem. Jeśli Gątowskiego postrzelę, zerwą ze mną jako z zabójcą; jeśli on mnie, zerwą, jako z niedołęgą, który się pozwolił zelżyć i poturbować. Na sto danych jest dziewięćdziesiąt, że tak postąpią. Rozumiesz teraz, dlaczegom ci powiedział, że diabli wezmą mnie, mój kredyt, moje stanowisko i w dodatku Krzemień […] Mój kochany, nie znasz tych kobiet. One w braku czego lepszego zgodziły się na pana Maszkę, bo panu Maszce dobrze się wiodło… Gdy byle cień padnie na mój majątek, moje położenie, moje stanowisko – porzucą mnie bez miłosierdzia, a potem góry będą na mnie waliły, by siebie osłonić przed światem…’ (H. Sienkiewicz, Rodzina Połanieckich, pp. 202, 224).
W. St. Reymont, Ziemia obiecana (Warsaw: 2000), p. 226. The novel was translated into English by Michał Henryk Dziewicki as The promised land (New York: 1927).
T. Żeleński (Boy), “Narzeczeni”, in: ibid., pp. 330-331.
Przewodnik zakochanych, p. 45.
Ibid., pp. 45-46.
M. Samozwaniec, Maria i Magdalena, vol. 1, p. 248.
J. Waydel-Dmochowska, Jeszcze o dawnej Warszawie [More about the old Warsaw] (Warsaw: 1960), p. 336. If the author’s recollections are to be trusted, those engagement rings differed considerably: ‘Sometimes it was a family heirloom, often with some naive imagery: a heart or a forget-me-not decorated with turquoises, sometimes an extremely expensive and splendid gem; however, the most common type of engagement ring among the class of medium means was a sapphire surrounded by diamonds for the fiancée and a broad gold ring with smooth-surface sapphire for the fiancé’ (ibid.). Magdalena Samozwaniec received such a ring with a smooth reconstructed sapphire, with much disappointment, from her frugal father-in-law-to-be, a fact which became the source of never-ending mockery among the entire Kossak family (M. Samozwaniec, Maria i Magdalena , vol. 1, p. 248).
The spiteful chronicler did not avoid making a comment: ‘Apparently during the next meeting, the editorial board of the Gazeta Sądowa [Judicial Newspaper] is to extensively examine the issue of “what is more ridiculous”: to choose people who can’t dance for a dance figure, or to break up an engagement because someone cannot dance the mazur.’ (Kurier Warszawski [Warsaw Courier] issue 23, dated 23 January 1887).
A. Skarbek-Sokołowska, Wspomnienia 1882-1944 [Memories 1882-1944] (Warsaw: 1995), p. 84.
Ibid., p. 88. Interestingly enough, due to a superstition valid at that time, the new engagement ring, a gift from Witold Sokołowski, was decorated not with an opal (considered a stone which caused misfortune) but with an emerald and diamonds.
See: T. Żeleński (Boy), “Plotka o ‘Weselu’ Wyspiańskiego” [Rumour about Wyspiański’s ‘The Wedding’], in: ibid., p. 124. Sewer’s use of biographical facts in his works was discussed by Stanisław Frybes in Przedmowa [Foreword] to Sewer’s collection of works Dzieła wybrane [Selected works] (vol. I. Szkice z Anglii (Wybór) [Sketches from England (selection)] (Cracow: 1955), pp. VIII, XXI, XXXI, XLVI). In the afterword (Posłowie) to Bajecznie kolorowa Frybes has argued that the protagonist’s prototype also studied ‘in Munich at Alexander Wagner School, and later at the Colarossi School in Paris’, and the text offers ‘actual fortunes of the Tetmajer’s and the relations at Cracow’s School of Fine Arts prior to reorganisation by Fałat in 1895’ (Sewer (Ignacy Maciejowski), Dzieła wybrane, vol. VII. Matka. Bajecznie kolorowa [Mother. Fabulously colourful] (Cracow: 1955), pp. 339, 341.
Sewer (Ignacy Maciejowski), Dzieła wybrane, vol. VII. Bajecznie kolorowa. Nowela [Fabulously colourful. Novella], p. 168.
Ibid.
Ibid., p. 172.
Ibid.
Ibid., p. 26. In fact, the letter was written per all the rules of letter-writing between enamours, which recommend the breaking-up party to use the following arguments (or excuses rather): ‘A fiancé writing in this sense to a maiden should express his grief that he is forced to do this and sufficiently justify his decision. There are sufficient pretexts for that. The young man could, e.g., become convinced that the maiden did not love him, so he would return her word to her instead of brutally abusing it, etc. He can find an excuse that he feels not strong enough to ensure the happiness such a noble creature deserves; finally, he can confess that his character is undeniably lacking when compared to her virtues and in that sorrowful self-reflection he can see that she would not be happy with him, etc.’ (Przewodnik zakochanych, p. 45).
Ibid., pp. 181-182.
Referencing close relations between the Kossaks and the Sienkiewiczes, Magdalena Samozwaniec even wrote that Miss Castelli was a carbon copy of the writer’s second wife, while Mrs. Broniczowa of her mother. ‘In short, he used them to the extreme in his novel. (…) [The young wife’s escape – A. B.] It was a huge scandal which for a long time amused their acquaintances. Taking revenge with your pen may not be a noble deed, but it is effective, when it comes to reproducing in novels characters that are truly vivid and original.’ (M. Samozwaniec, Maria i Magdalena , vol. 1, p. 117).
M. Dziugieł-Łaguna, “‘Siebie skrywam na dnie…’ Aksjologiczno-biograficzny kontekst ‘Rodziny Połanieckich’ Henryka Sienkiewicza” [‘Hiding myself at the bottom…’ Axiological-biographical context for ‘Rodzina Połanieckich’ by Henryk Sienkiewicz], in: Napis issue XVII, (2011). The author noted that the novel’s duration was synchronised with its release in instalments in the Biblioteka Warszawska [Warsaw Library] and the Gazeta Polska (starting in July 1893), and the trap of ‘veristic fiction’ while blurring the lines between reality and literature for which Sienkiewicz fell as he continued to object to readers associating Miss Castelli with Maria Wołodkowiczówna, aunt Broniczowa with her mother, and Ignacy Zawiłowski with him (ibid., pp. 41-42).
Ibid., p. 46.
Ibid., pp. 51-52.
Hoesick went as far as to state: ‘the entire Anioł śmierci was the story of the author’s infelicitous engagement in Zakopane and in Warsaw; some letters and notes that Miss Rakowska actually wrote to him ended up in the original edition of Anioł śmierci’ (idem, Powieść mojego życia (Dom rodzicielski). Pamiętnik [A Novel of my life (Parental home). Diary] (Wrocław: 1959), vol. 2, p. 154).
Krystyna Jabłońska, somewhat ironically commenting on ‘Hoesick’s omniscience’, reduced his statements to mere gossip or even ‘imputation’ (eadem, Kazimierz Tetmajer. Próba biografii [Kazimierz Tetmajer. An attempt at a biography] (Cracow: 1969), p. 87). However, a statement by Irena Szadurska (married surname Navratilova), Laura Rakowska’s daughter, referenced almost as a document, hardly refuted that possibility. She argued that her mother got engaged unofficially, not so much for love but rather because she felt pity about the financial situation of her favourite poet: ‘The engagement was broken by my Mother’s brother-in-law and Myszka’s, her only sister’s, husband – Mr. Kazimierz Rodkiewicz, a member of landed gentry from near Warsaw. The main reason for the break-up was the news that Tetmajer had a son out of wedlock. What Mother did with her correspondence from the engagement period – I don't know’ (ibid., p. 113). It is possible, then, that against the rules of savoir-vivre Laura had never received her notes back.
Antoni Krawczyński, Irena Navratilova’s nephew, added that it was suspected that the infelicitous fiancé was hiding a venereal disease: ‘This piece of information was the reason why Mr. Rodkiewicz categorically and extremely quickly demanded that Laura departed (...) for Italy, which she did and where she stayed for an extended time’ (ibid., p. 113).
That could be indicated by the use of affectionate infantilising diminutives (‘bobo’, ‘ti’, etc. – K. Przerwa-Tetmajer, Anioł śmierci. Romans [Angel of death. Romance] (Warsaw: 2004), p. 41) or the illogical and moving text about cookies (‘This cookie in the middle, the one rather failed, with raspberry sauce on top, I baked for you. I’m sorry it’s ugly but it was only in the pan that it got bent like that; before then it was very pleasing and it had a ribbed edge. Please eat it first but stop eating if it tastes wrong. In fact, most certainly don’t eat it because it’s probably slack-baked. But I would feel very pleased if you ate the first one. Or at least the sauce on top’ – ibid., p. 162).
K. Jabłońska, Kazimierz Tetmajer. Próba biografii, p. 88. The author also indicated that the general premise of Anioł śmierci was inspired by the dramatic gesture of Antoni Kurzawa, a sculptor, who in 1890 destroyed his model of a statue of Mickiewicz (ibid., p. 89) – the smashing of the unfortunate though undeniably beautiful sculpture by Rdzawicz drove him to insanity (K. Przerwa-Tetmajer, Anioł śmierci, pp. 269-270).
K. Przerwa-Tetmajer, Anioł śmierci, pp. 112-113.
Ibid., p. 151.
A. Tarczewska, née Tańska, Historia mego życia. Wspomnienia warszawianki [The story of my life. Memories of a Varsovian], editing and introduction I. Kaniowska-Lewańska (Wrocław: 1967), p. 229.
Ibid., p. 231.
Przewodnik zakochanych, pp. 44-47.
It is worth noting that the popularity among the contemporaries was often not a result of a text’s artistic value. Modern researchers who study the discussed in this article novels by Sewer and Tetmajer do not consider them as the authors’ greatest works, yet they were sought after at the time of their publication. For example, the quite obscure today Anioł śmierci since its publication in 1898 to 1918 received 6 editions, and presumably by dint of its popularity among Polish readers it was translated into German, French, Hebrew, Russian, Ukrainian, and possibly into Italian and English (K. Jabłońska, Kazimierz Tetmajer. Próba biografii, p. 90).
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