I was delighted by The Pastor’s Wife by Elizabeth von Arnim, the second book I read as part of Rachel and Carolyn‘s Virago Reading Week. In the hands of any other writer, anyone who lacks von Arnim’s light touch and gift for clever humour, this would have been a tiresome tragedy about a woman stifled by first her father and then her husband before finally being exploited by an egotistical artist. Happily, this is not that book.
The novel revolves around Ingeborg, rather exotically and surprisingly named considering her father the Bishop’s general determination that she be unexceptional and unremarkable. As the novel begins, Ingeborg is unexpectedly at liberty in London, where she’d gone to visit a dentist about a toothache. With the tooth pulled shortly after arrival and with her parents not expecting her back for a fortnight, her life is, for the first time ever, her own:
Not only was she suddenly and incredibly relieved from acute pain but for the first time in her life of twenty-two years she was alone. This by itself, without the business of the tooth, was enough to make a dutiful, willing, and hardworked daughter tingle. (p. 2)
So, like any respectably cloistered Bishop’s daughter, Ingeborg decides on a whim to join a tour group heading to Lucerne. Adventure and novelty, two things she had never until now tasted, are hers for the asking! Off she goes without telling a soul on a trip that will change her life, for it is on that trip that she meets Robert Dremmel, a Lutheran pastor from East Prussia, who is soon to become her husband.
This early part of the novel, dealing with Ingeborg’s rebellion and the beginnings of her relationship with Robert, is hilarious. Robert’s forthright proposal on a Swiss mountain top is particularly amusing while, at the same time, having a great deal of sense, if not romance, about it:
‘…I do not ask you,’ he went on, ‘to love me, or whether you do love me. It would be presumption on my part, and not, if you did, very modest on yours. That is the difference between a man and a woman. He loves before marriage, and she does not love till after.’
‘Oh?’ said Ingeborg, interested. ‘And what does he -’
‘The woman,’ continued Herr Dremmel, ‘feels affection and esteem before marriage, and the man feels affection and esteem after.’
‘Oh,’ said Ingeborg, reflecting. She began to tear up tufts of grass. ‘It seems – chilly’ she said.
‘Chilly?’ he echoed.
He let his stick drop, and got up and came and sat down, or rather let himself down carefully on the grass beside her.
‘Chilly? Do you not know that a decent chill is a great preservative? Hot things decay. Frozen things do not live. A just measure of chill preserves the life of the affections. It is, by a very proper dispensation of Nature, provided before marriage by the woman, and afterwards by the man. The balance is, in this way, nicely held, and peace and harmony, which flourish best at a low temperature, prevail.’ (p. 37-38)
And poor, indecisive Ingeborg is not at all certain that she wants to get married, not to this strange but fascinating Prussian with his hair like a beaver’s pelt and his overwhelming fascination with agriculture, particularly manure:
Oh the mischief people got into who came up to London to dentists! She now saw what provincial dentists were for: they kept you in pain, and pain kept you out of mischief. For the first time she understood what her spirit had till then refused to accept, the teaching so popular with the Bishop that pain was a necessary part of the scheme of things. Of course. You were safe so long as you were in pain. In that condition the very nearest you could get to the most seductive temptation was to glance at it palely, with a sick distaste. And you stayed at home, and were grateful for kindness. It was only when you hadn’t anything the matter with you that you ran away from your family and went to Lucerne and took up with a strange man positively to the extent of letting him propose to marry you. (p. 58)
But marry him she does, and happily, leaving behind her angry family, so affronted that she would dare to leave them and for a foreigner! From then on, the novel tells the story of Ingeborg’s life in Kökensee, from her first months as a bride with no knowledge of German language or customs, through the traumatizing births (and, more often than not, deaths) of six children which lead Ingeborg to permanently deny her husband his conjugal rights, to the arrival of a suitor of sorts, an English painter who becomes obsessed with seducing Ingeborg though she remains happily oblivious to his intentions.
Rather fabulously, von Arnim treats her heroine with no particular respect; Ingeborg is not particularly intelligent or thoughtful, is stupidly passive as life changing events take place, and matures almost not at all from age twenty-two to thirty. Her husband Robert refers to her as a “little sheep”, a term of endearment that’s a rather apt description of the pliable, suggestible Ingeborge. She is endearing with her child-like enthusiasm but it is impossible to respect her as an individual. Robert remarks early on that his mother is a simple woman and I’m inclined to say the same of his wife who, with particular skill, runs away to Italy with her would-be seducer, entirely ignorant of his rather clear intentions. And yet, despite these traits, Ingeborg remains a likeable heroine, if not necessarily a sympathetic one.
The marriage between Ingeborg and Robert, while hardly perfect, is far from awful. Indeed, it is quite affectionate until Ingeborg withdraws from the marriage bed, unable to bear the thought of any more pregnancies and births after having six children in a scant seven years. Robert reacts surprisingly calmly, finding solace in his laboratory, which had always been first in his affections, and forcing himself to view Ingeborg as a companion, almost a sister, rather than a wife. Left with a husband she has pushed away and two surviving children who are eerily composed and require none of the affectionate mothering that Ingeborg is finally willing to provide, our heroine has time enough and freedom enough to strike up a friendship with a visiting English painter, Edward Ingram (rumoured to be based on von Arnim’s one-time lover H.G. Wells).
The artistic and temperamental Ingram is the finest comedic creation in a book full of amusing characters. His attempted seduction, his willful misunderstanding of his love’s intelligence and sense, is wonderful to behold. Captivated by Ingeborg’s beauty, her simplicity and her enthusiasm for the natural world, Ingram displays what for him must be extraordinary patience as he attempts to woo and win her. After all, how could she not prefer him and the promise of a trip to his studio in Venice to her plain little parson and her dull country life? But when he does get her out of Kökensee and into Italy she is insultingly indifferent to him, intoxicated by the new and beautiful sights around her:
At Kökensee she had been entirely concentrated on him, eagerly listening only to him, drinking in only what he said, worshipping. Here she seemed possessed by a rage for any sights and sounds merely because they were new. There had been moments from the very start in Berlin when he almost felt of secondary interest, and they appeared to be becoming permanent. It was disturbing. It was incredible. It was grotesque. (p. 428)
For many modern readers, this novel is a study in male oppression, with Ingeborg trading her domineering father and the isolation of the Bishop’s palace for her remote husband and a life of seclusion in East Prussia with a disappointing family. And then there is the third option, an insecure life with her cosmopolitan, self-centered, would-be lover. But, importantly, she has options. And if there is an element of tragedy in this comedy, it is Ingeborg’s decision to stay in the life she has made for herself, bound by her unquestioning acceptance of her role as wife and mother rather than any external tyrant.
This title introduced me to Elizabeth von Arnim – I loved it – such a wonderful premise and then an excellent tale, all beautifully rendered.
What an interesting choice to introduce you to von Arnim! I started, typically, with Elizabeth and Her German Garden which I still adore.
For some reason the only von Arnim I’ve read is ‘Enchanted April’. I know why I’ve read that – because of the TV film that was made, but I love it so much there has been no excuse for me not to go back and read more. Thanks for the nudge.
Enchanted April is certainly a popular choice for where to start with von Arnim and a very worthy one! I do hope you’re able to read more of her works are they really are excellent entertainment!
Oh this does sound like an Elizabeth von Arnim I should like to read… I do like your first quote about men, women and marriage..
Oh, do read it! It’s such an entertaining read that I had trouble putting it down. The book is full of amusing dialogue like the quote about marriage which kept me laughing throughout.
Fantastic review, Claire! I have only read The Enchanted April, of Arnim’s books, but my experience of that made me obsessively collect her books, which I promptly left behind when I came to New York. Now you have me desperate to read them, and I don’t have them! I love how complex and interesting her female heroines always seem to be. And how funny her books are, even when they’re depressing. A wonderful writer!
How careless to have left them behind, Rachel! But I’m sure this distance will just make you all the more appreciative when your reunited with your collection and able to enjoy von Arnim’s fabulous characters and devastating wit.
Another one to add to the list! So far I’ve read Enchanted April and Elizabeth in Her German Garden, both of which I’ve loved. I’m hoping to read at least one of her books this week.
And two Viragos already! Wow! I look forward to reading more of your reviews.
She’s such a popular Virago author that I do hope you have a chance to read her this week! I’ll be posting a review of my favourite Elizabeth and Her German Garden tomorrow – two von Arnim novels in a week is always better than one!
[…] first review of the day is from the lovely Claire at The Captive Reader, who wrote an insightful and engaging review of the always delightful, and never predictable Elizabeth Von Arnim’s The Pastor’s […]
I have this on the tbr shelf so thanks for the review, I may read it now sooner rather than later!
Glad to have provided some encouragement for you to pull it off the shelf!
I’ve read several von Arnims, but not this one. I’ve yet to be disappointed. My next one is to be Vera, but am not sure when it will get to the next of the pile.
This one certainly does not disappoint! I’m interested to read Vera but I have to say that the title I’m most intrigued by is Christopher and Columbus.
Interesting how a good author can pick a rather “normal” life and turn it into a beautiful book.
Do you think you’d have liked it less if in the end she had decided to escape?
This ending was so perfectly in character that yes, I think anything else would have seemed odd and would have made for a less enjoyable book.
I love the passages you’ve quoted from the book. I so enjoy that type of quiet humour. I don’t have this one, but your review and some of the comments have made me promote ‘The Enchanted April’ from the Virago shelf to the TBR bookcase. I also have ‘Vera’ and ‘Elizabeth and her German Garden’. It’s nice to have such treats in store!
Thanks for a beautifully written and interesting review! 🙂
Her rather wicked humour is wonderful. Elizabeth and her German garden was what got me in to reading her. Mr Skeffington is another good’un.
Elizabeth and Her German Garden was my first too and still my favourite (I’ll be posting a review of it tomorrow). I still have Mr Skeffington to look forward to!
Sounds like you have a nice little collection of von Arnims all ready and waiting for you! Her humour is delightful with just the perfect amount of bite!
I have copies of all of Elizabeth’s novels and three biographies, including her own “All the dogs of my life”. It is hard to say which I like best, as I re-read them from time to time, but each one has something in them for me. The Caravaners (of which I also have an abridged radio play, my first discovery of her works) is always a delight. Vera and Fräulein Schmidt & Mr Anstruther also come to mind.
Elizabeth was born in Australia, quite close to where I live, and I am giving a talk about her for the University of the Third Age next week.
John
[…] uninterested community. Surprisingly, it’s also difficult for the reader to connect with her. I agree with Claire that Ingaborg is a “likeable heroine, if not necessarily a sympathetic one”. Her lack of […]