Tania, or Titania, or Tanne, or Karen, or Isak (or even Pierre and Osceola)

Jun 14, 2014 10:06


   In Savannah we spent a short while in The Book Lady Bookstore and I picked up a copy of Tania (which the cover then informs us was "first published as Titania"), Parmenia Migel's kinda weird biography of Isak Dinesen, otherwise known as Baroness Karen Blixen.
   An aside about the bookstore: it's a treasure. We came out of it with only five or six books between us, but that's because we had to fly home from Atlanta, and cargo space was limited. Should we go back to Savannah (and we intend to), I expect to spend the better part of a day in there.
   Back to the biography. I was introduced to Dinesen in college, by Dr. Peter Fuss (a Philosophy through Literature course which I remember quite fondly); and I promptly read almost everything that was in print. I even have a copy of The Angelic Avengers under its double pseudonym. Any number of articles have come to my attention over the years, including a review of this biography when it was rereleased in 1987, but I'd never thought to read a biography. The woman had an interesting life, though, and faced with a used copy ... I snapped it up. My level of interest is reflected in my having read it within four months of purchase. (I think the average linger time on my unread shelves is over a decade.)
   This is an authorized, one should really say requested, biography. Migel was a friend of Blixen's. She was also rather old-fashioned in her approach. Blixen's father committed suicide, but Migel can't be bothered to tell you that, and never mentions the method. (Hanged himself; but because the bio discussed his love of hunting, I'd assumed shotgun.) She does allow that he died "by his own hand" but that's it. Both father and daughter had syphilis, and Blixen's life problems with that disease and questions of whether it was cured are well documented, but Migel doesn't mention the father's case, nor will she name it for her subject.
   Which is just perverse.
   While the book mostly insists on Blixen's charm, it does paint a portrait of someone who couldn't live without an audience, had to be the center of attention, and who could be a bit petty about that. There's a famous story told here, of Blixen's late-in-life visit to New York City, where she basically summoned Pearl Buck (I assume from Green Hills Farm, in Bucks County), but when Buck arrived for lunch Blixen simply talked incessantly and didn't let the poor woman say a thing.
   I strive not to follow that model of behavior.
   Blixen's life was rich and fascinating, and she proved to be one tough cookie. She was an aristocrat, but not really; a Colonial plantation owner, but not quite really; a feminist, but against the grain (her mother and aunts were the militants); a writer who didn't fit in to her own country's literary world; a failure at marriage, a loser at love, and so on. Her writing, which was seen as not-of-its-era, needs no excuses. Indeed, my project for the summer is to reread some Dinesen while also reading Flannery O'Conner. That should make for some good hours on the porch.
    Anyway, this volume is a bit odd. It is more hagiography than biography. It's also relatively short, it sketches an interesting life, and I judge it an effective starter-bio. I expect not to have time to ever read another one, and this gave me much to think about. That'll do.

CBIP: student thesis novels

biography, isak dinesen

Previous post Next post
Up