Drømmeren (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Part 2 - full transcript
Inspired by Karen Blixen's life and
letters with excerpts from The Dreamers
KENYA
JANUARY 1931
Memsahib.
Memsahib,
there's a letter from Denmark.
Maybe it's good news?
Maybe.
Is it from your family?
Won't they help you?
No.
They're not going to help us.
THE DREAMER
BECOMING KAREN BLIXEN
RUNGSTEDLUND
FEBRUARY 1932
I got an allowance from Tommy now.
However ...
Kamante writes that they're expecting
their fifth child, and ...
Farah has no tires for his truck.
I'd like to send some money to Kenya.
Right.
How about I give you an extra 50 kroner
in celebration of the new year?
Thank you, Mother.
It's moving how they keep
in touch with you.
ARSENIC
- The cold is keeping people inside.
- But was it snowing?
I'd like, now that we're all here -
- to express my sincere gratitude
to my youngest, dear daughter, Elle -
- and my esteemed son-in-law, Knud -
- because you with great effort and love -
- have taken over the deed to Folehave.
Thus you've ensured
my dear Bess's home.
- You've saved Folehave?
- Knud has.
- Aunt Bess, I'm so relieved.
- I'm very grateful.
Here's to Elle and Knud -
- for spending your money
with heart and consideration.
- Well said.
- Thank you.
Do help yourself.
Happy Candlemas.
Thank you, Knud.
- How's the book coming along, Karen?
- Fine.
I've finished four out of nine stories.
It's time to run them by a publisher.
I had a fine collaboration with Reitzels
on my Introductions.
- Knud can help.
- I can't make any promises.
- But you can get someone to read it.
- Do you know any British publishers?
Could you introduce me?
Someone from Putnam Books perhaps?
- Putnam Books?
- Yes.
- The biggest publisher in Europe?
- Precisely. That's the whole idea.
I write in English to reach
as wide an audience as possible.
- You don't make it easy on yourself.
- Perhaps easy is an overrated quality.
One should always pick
the most challenging path.
England is a huge country
with so many good writers.
Your solicitude is charming.
A measure of gratitude
would become you, Karen.
- Are you feeling poorly?
- Yes.
- It's just my stomach.
- Is there anything I can do?
No.
Could you get me the drops
in the top drawer, please?
Arsenic?
Do you still suffer from ...?
Syphilis.
You can say it out loud.
- The word isn't contagious.
- I suppose not.
I use these for the stomach pain.
I want to write nine tales
and call them:
Nine Tales of Nozdref's Cook.
A reference to Gogol.
The heavy waters sang and murmured
along the bow and stern -
- and the dhow carried full sails
before the monsoon.
The prisoners sat still like statues.
Their bodies and faces fully painted -
- on the occasion of the glorious
celebration they attended -
- in the moment their fate changed.
The young Prince Said paid no attention
to the Englishman's story -
- but Mira Jama listened -
- as Lincoln Forsner continued his tale.
I kept returning to the brothel
and to Olalla's company.
Gone was my father himself -
- his ideas, values, expectations.
And his Bible.
Gone was the wife
he had chosen for me in England.
It all disappeared
in the presence of Olalla.
Here are the envelopes
for the London publishers.
Whenever Olalla was around -
- a figure of an elderly man seemed
to circle in her periphery -
- like the Moon around the Earth.
He's staring at us.
He had a pale complexion
and dark eyes -
- and was slightly built,
richly dressed -
- wore diamonds on his hands -
- and had the manners of
a fine old gentleman of the world.
Do you know him?
Did you not notice
I don't have a shadow?
I sold it to the Devil -
- so I could have a little fun.
But the Devil keeps
letting it walk about -
- and it then keeps trying to come back
and lay at my foot.
But I won't let it.
I'm afraid that the Devil
will renege on our bargain.
It's from Faber & Faber.
Yet another standard rejection.
At least Putnam has yet to reply.
I don't understand!
Why send it back without reading it?
SUMMER
You've come back.
Did you come to gloat over my misery?
You know me better than that.
Thank you, Ingeborg.
It's a shame about all the rejections.
Yes, times are hard.
No one dares take a chance now.
- And your magazine, Tommy?
- We can't get financing, either.
How is your book coming along, Elle?
- Have you written another?
- Amazing, isn't it?
I've tried my hand at a novel this time.
The Murderer.
It's with a reader now.
- It's with Professor Hans Brix.
- Hans Brix?!
- The literary critic?
- I dare say.
The publisher and I agreed
that we needed a qualified response.
Get yourself a reader, Karen.
- Perhaps that would help your tales.
- I have Tommy.
Well, I lack those qualifications.
- Knud, put in a good word for Karen?
- Of course.
My offer stands.
I'm sure Reitzels is ready to help.
Or perhaps Elle could assist you.
She's a keen reader.
I'm going to London next week.
There's nothing wrong with my tales.
Putnam Books didn't read them.
They sent me a standard reply.
But London, Karen?
Are you serious, Karen?
Yes. I must go to London to persuade
the editor to read my stories.
Elle is right.
Traveling is expensive.
I'll repay you if they accept the book.
Train, ship, hotel,
all that for a meeting?
Mother and Tommy are providing for you.
If my book isn't published,
you'll provide for me forever.
I'm worried about your health.
I don't like you going there on your own.
- Tommy can come.
- That won't make it any less expensive.
Tommy, why don't you say something?
I understand your wish to go.
I know the quality of your work.
But I agree that it's too expensive
at this time.
If I had an inheritance like you,
I'd pay myself.
- You'd have spent it by now.
- What do you mean?
- What I said.
- What are you saying?
- You spend money like ...
- Stop arguing.
Elle has offered to read your book.
I think you should accept.
"Oh, you're so talented, Karen."
"Oh, Karen, I've prayed for it."
The Poet is your best short story
in my opinion.
Its characters and plot have all the
depth and vitality that the others don't.
Your stories certainly
don't lack imagination.
But rather calmness ...
... and heart.
- But The Poet has all that.
- At least you like one of them.
The others are good
but not as accomplished.
They're rather focused
on half-naked women.
They could be perceived as a bit
erotically curious if you get my drift.
Well ...
You asked for my advice,
and that is -
- to make the others more like The Poet.
Can this be my Elle?
Can this be the anarchist
consumed with passion -
- who went to Saint Petersburg
in support of the revolution?
Or maybe I'd expand it into a novel.
I think it has the potential.
Don't you see the thread?
The way the collection evolves?
The Poet cannot stand on its own.
It's an epilogue.
I realize that you're ambitious -
- but do yourself a favor
and make it easier on yourself.
I wrote my novel The Murderer
in two months over Christmas.
It doesn't have to be life and death.
But it is a matter of life and death.
To me it is.
But to the once so revolutionary
landowner's wife ...
... literature is more of a diversion.
Something that goes
with hanging 45 curtain panels.
Or fetching her husband's slippers.
"Here you are, Knud."
Propping up his ego.
What's got into you?
Mother.
I've written to Lady Islington
to ask if I can stay with her in London.
- Lady Islington?
- A friend from Kenya.
The mother of Lady Grigg -
- who is married to the governor.
I've found out that she's a personal
friend of the head of Putnam Books.
Is it safe to send her off
on this long journey?
This idea of her persuading anyone
to publish her book -
- after all the rejections ...
Oh my, is she going there
to star in a fashion show?
I suppose you paid for her outfits
as well.
Karen,
can I take your photograph?
See how happy she is.
I haven't seen her this happy since ...
Since I don't know when.
Here we are, Baroness Blixen,
welcome to London.
So, you're living
with your mother now?
Yes.
It's temporary, of course.
And I see you kept your title
after your divorce.
I don't mind.
My daughter always admired your spirit.
Karen Blixen is ... unconventional.
But she has class.
And she has stamina.
- Now you're writing a book.
- Yes.
Well actually,
I've been writing all my life.
But just now -
- I have sent off my first fully realized
manuscript to Putnam Books.
- But they didn't read it.
- Might you like to meet an editor?
Yes, of course. Especially if
it's someone who can make a difference.
Well, perhaps we could do
rather better than that.
Constant Huntington is
a personal friend of mine.
- The head of Putnam Books.
- Is he?
I'm having a few people over
on Saturday.
- Should I invite him?
- That would be delightful.
Yes. I think it would be
quite delightful.
There you are, dear. I've been
looking for you absolutely everywhere.
Let me introduce you
to Constant Huntington.
- Head of Putnam Books.
- Such a pleasure to meet you.
Baroness Blixen is a dear friend
of my daughter's. We met in Kenya.
- And you're a writer, I hear?
- The Baroness is terribly talented.
- She uses English like her mother tongue.
- My great-grandmother is from Guernsey.
- Guernsey, really?
- Yes.
On my mother's side,
they're all descended from vicars -
- but on my father's side,
they were soldiers.
This sounds like the beginning
of a great story.
Well, it was the beginning
of many great stories.
So, how long did you spend in Kenya?
Almost 20 years.
We had a coffee farm.
But first came the war,
then came the drought -
- and finally the crash.
I'm sorry.
Well, I believe that to make great art -
- you need to put yourself at great risk.
- You're a Byronist.
- I do love Byron.
But my true love is Shakespeare.
I believe we shall be excellent friends,
Baroness.
I'm so glad we met.
I would like to show you my work.
Is it a novel set in East Africa?
It is not about Africa,
and it is not a novel.
It is a collection of tales.
They are stories within stories.
Short stories usually
don't stand a chance.
I realize that everyone loves realism
right now.
I believe the reader wants
something different.
I think there is a market -
- for strange, fantastic literature.
People need to dream.
- Perhaps you're right.
- So what do you say?
I say, you're a fascinating lady
with a fascinating story.
If you have time,
do drop into Putnam's.
I'd love to show you our publishing
house. We'll see what we can do for you.
Constant Huntington is
a very cultivated man.
Very pleasant to talk to.
I'm delighted to hear it.
We're so happy for you.
Is everyone there?
Knud is in Sønderborg. We just had
dinner, and now we're playing bridge.
- I hope you clean them out.
- I'll do my best.
Remember to eat and drink, now.
I have to run, Mother.
What did she say?
She met with Constant Huntington,
the head of Putnam.
- Terrific.
- He's very interested.
They're meeting again tomorrow
at the publishing house.
- My! So you were right, Tommy.
- Yes. She's an incredible writer.
It was about this time,
the early crisp September in Rome -
- that Lincoln Forsner began to think,
he couldn't live without Olalla.
Pardon my curiosity, but ...
- Why are you not yet married?
- I don't believe in marriage.
You don't believe in marriage?
Karen, he doesn't believe in marriage.
I respect that others may want
to commit to matrimony, but ...
I find relationships
much deeper and more sincere -
- if they're free of duty,
expectations and fixed ideas.
Olalla.
I've made up my mind.
I want you to marry me.
I want you to come back to England
with me.
I want you to be mine forever.
She was enchanting.
The only fault on her beauty
was a scar -
- which ran like a little snake
from her right ear to her collarbone.
Yet somehow, this scar made her
even more divine.
When asked how she had come
to be so badly burnt -
- she would never answer -
- and would instead begin to talk of all
the great and wealthy men of Rome -
- who were all in love with her.
The library. Every book
we have published ends up here.
Oh! I could live here.
Indeed. For many of our authors,
it's a place for meetings and leisure.
We really want our house to be
an inspirational place -
- and for our writers to feel at home.
And to think that
they're burning books in Berlin now.
That is heartbreaking.
- Have you met George Orwell?
- No, I don't think so.
Very interesting young writer.
This is his debut.
About his life as a dishwasher
in Paris.
A dishwasher?
May I say again what a pleasure
it's been talking to you, Baroness.
Thank you.
No, please keep it.
A souvenir from Putnam Books.
And now, if you'll excuse me.
Please give my kindest regards
to dear Lady Islington.
But what about my book?
Ah, your tales. Yes, of course.
We have many fine
ladies' magazines here in London.
I'd be happy to recommend some of them -
- and then if I were you, I'd try
and submit your short stories there.
But I thought we would discuss
with a view to publishing them here.
That was never my intention.
Might you be interested in reading them?
I am sorry.
We can't publish short stories
by an unknown lady from Denmark.
I understand.
Thank you for the tour, Mr. Huntington.
- And a good day to you.
- And to you, Baroness.
- Safe travel home.
- Thank you.
- Where is Olalla?
- She left this morning.
Left? She's going to England
with me to be my wife.
Maybe she changed her mind.
- How could she? Olalla loves me.
- Happens all the time.
- Tell me where she is.
- She left of her own free will.
You're lying.
She left with him.
With the old man.
- Where to?
- I don't know.
There are many whorehouses in Europe.
Oh gracious!
I was certain Olalla had been
kidnapped by the old man.
I found out his name was Marcus Cocoza.
He was a rich merchant from Amsterdam.
I crossed Europe on their trail -
- going from city to city,
but everywhere I went -
- Cocoza had left prior to my arrival.
- We must give her plenty to drink.
- What else did he say?
The arsenic drops that Karen takes
appear to be harmful.
In Kenya, they're a cure-all.
Karen has taken them for years.
Karen ...
Can you hear me?
Stop taking those drops. The doctor says
they're destroying your organs.
Lady Islington sends you
her best wishes.
Just rest now.
Feeling better, my dear?
Somewhat.
Look what I brought you.
Dorothy Canfield's latest, Bonfire.
I like that title.
Bonfire.
It refers to the fact
that fires are always started by men -
- and then we women have
to put them out.
Sounds rather dull.
- Dull?
- Yes.
We women also ought to start fires
every now and then.
Well, it's a metaphor for war,
strife and unrest.
I doubt you want to start that, Karen.
You're a bit of a warrior yourself,
Bess, as we recall.
Well, well.
It's a splendid novel.
I had the pleasure
of reading it on the way.
- You're lucky to correspond with her.
- I'm ever so grateful for it.
Oh, and Dorothy's been made a member
of the Book of the Month Club -
- in America!
She's the first and only female member
of the committee.
You don't say.
What is the matter with you?
Nothing works.
You've handled worse.
- Jonna sends her best.
- Thanks.
- How is she?
- Well.
She's pregnant.
Yes. We're expecting our third.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
- We hope to find a house up here ...
- Tommy?
You've met Dorothy Canfield?
I picked her up at the train station
when she came to see Aunt Bess.
If Canfield really is as influential
as Aunt Bess says -
- she could help me with my book.
- You're off to America now?
- No.
- But you could write to her.
- Do you want me to write to her?
Yes. You know her.
No.
I merely drove her to Folehave.
Still, you could ask her
to read your sister's manuscript.
Dorothy Canfield is Aunt Bess's friend.
Any contact must go through her.
I can't discuss my stories
with Aunt Bess.
You have to go through Bess.
No two ways about it.
I searched far and wide for Olalla.
Then after eight months -
- my search brought me to a small hotel
in the Swiss Alps.
Suddenly, two young noblemen
came in from the cold.
I knew one of them.
His name was
Friederich von Hohenemser.
Lincoln Forsner?
But I had named him Skipper.
What brings you here?
After a dog of mine.
- I have to cross the mountain tomorrow.
- Oh, so do we.
This is my traveling companion,
Baron Guildenstern of Sweden.
- Nice to meet you.
- Enchanté.
- Can we?
- Please.
Sit down.
I came as fast as I could.
- Did Mother see you?
- No. Why?
I don't want her to know.
Know what?
What's going on?
I wrote a letter to Dorothy Canfield
from you.
From me?
All it's missing is your signature.
I thought that matter was closed.
Is that why you had me rush over?
We've already been over this.
Let me see the letter.
Give me a pen.
You might not care to be seen
in my company if you knew everything.
I'm not out of danger
before I'm out of Switzerland.
Danke schön.
I shot a man in the barricade fight
on the third of March.
You shot a rebel?
A man of the church.
Why would you shoot one of your own?
Because of a woman.
Subtitles: Helle Schou Kristiansen
Dansk Video Tekst
letters with excerpts from The Dreamers
KENYA
JANUARY 1931
Memsahib.
Memsahib,
there's a letter from Denmark.
Maybe it's good news?
Maybe.
Is it from your family?
Won't they help you?
No.
They're not going to help us.
THE DREAMER
BECOMING KAREN BLIXEN
RUNGSTEDLUND
FEBRUARY 1932
I got an allowance from Tommy now.
However ...
Kamante writes that they're expecting
their fifth child, and ...
Farah has no tires for his truck.
I'd like to send some money to Kenya.
Right.
How about I give you an extra 50 kroner
in celebration of the new year?
Thank you, Mother.
It's moving how they keep
in touch with you.
ARSENIC
- The cold is keeping people inside.
- But was it snowing?
I'd like, now that we're all here -
- to express my sincere gratitude
to my youngest, dear daughter, Elle -
- and my esteemed son-in-law, Knud -
- because you with great effort and love -
- have taken over the deed to Folehave.
Thus you've ensured
my dear Bess's home.
- You've saved Folehave?
- Knud has.
- Aunt Bess, I'm so relieved.
- I'm very grateful.
Here's to Elle and Knud -
- for spending your money
with heart and consideration.
- Well said.
- Thank you.
Do help yourself.
Happy Candlemas.
Thank you, Knud.
- How's the book coming along, Karen?
- Fine.
I've finished four out of nine stories.
It's time to run them by a publisher.
I had a fine collaboration with Reitzels
on my Introductions.
- Knud can help.
- I can't make any promises.
- But you can get someone to read it.
- Do you know any British publishers?
Could you introduce me?
Someone from Putnam Books perhaps?
- Putnam Books?
- Yes.
- The biggest publisher in Europe?
- Precisely. That's the whole idea.
I write in English to reach
as wide an audience as possible.
- You don't make it easy on yourself.
- Perhaps easy is an overrated quality.
One should always pick
the most challenging path.
England is a huge country
with so many good writers.
Your solicitude is charming.
A measure of gratitude
would become you, Karen.
- Are you feeling poorly?
- Yes.
- It's just my stomach.
- Is there anything I can do?
No.
Could you get me the drops
in the top drawer, please?
Arsenic?
Do you still suffer from ...?
Syphilis.
You can say it out loud.
- The word isn't contagious.
- I suppose not.
I use these for the stomach pain.
I want to write nine tales
and call them:
Nine Tales of Nozdref's Cook.
A reference to Gogol.
The heavy waters sang and murmured
along the bow and stern -
- and the dhow carried full sails
before the monsoon.
The prisoners sat still like statues.
Their bodies and faces fully painted -
- on the occasion of the glorious
celebration they attended -
- in the moment their fate changed.
The young Prince Said paid no attention
to the Englishman's story -
- but Mira Jama listened -
- as Lincoln Forsner continued his tale.
I kept returning to the brothel
and to Olalla's company.
Gone was my father himself -
- his ideas, values, expectations.
And his Bible.
Gone was the wife
he had chosen for me in England.
It all disappeared
in the presence of Olalla.
Here are the envelopes
for the London publishers.
Whenever Olalla was around -
- a figure of an elderly man seemed
to circle in her periphery -
- like the Moon around the Earth.
He's staring at us.
He had a pale complexion
and dark eyes -
- and was slightly built,
richly dressed -
- wore diamonds on his hands -
- and had the manners of
a fine old gentleman of the world.
Do you know him?
Did you not notice
I don't have a shadow?
I sold it to the Devil -
- so I could have a little fun.
But the Devil keeps
letting it walk about -
- and it then keeps trying to come back
and lay at my foot.
But I won't let it.
I'm afraid that the Devil
will renege on our bargain.
It's from Faber & Faber.
Yet another standard rejection.
At least Putnam has yet to reply.
I don't understand!
Why send it back without reading it?
SUMMER
You've come back.
Did you come to gloat over my misery?
You know me better than that.
Thank you, Ingeborg.
It's a shame about all the rejections.
Yes, times are hard.
No one dares take a chance now.
- And your magazine, Tommy?
- We can't get financing, either.
How is your book coming along, Elle?
- Have you written another?
- Amazing, isn't it?
I've tried my hand at a novel this time.
The Murderer.
It's with a reader now.
- It's with Professor Hans Brix.
- Hans Brix?!
- The literary critic?
- I dare say.
The publisher and I agreed
that we needed a qualified response.
Get yourself a reader, Karen.
- Perhaps that would help your tales.
- I have Tommy.
Well, I lack those qualifications.
- Knud, put in a good word for Karen?
- Of course.
My offer stands.
I'm sure Reitzels is ready to help.
Or perhaps Elle could assist you.
She's a keen reader.
I'm going to London next week.
There's nothing wrong with my tales.
Putnam Books didn't read them.
They sent me a standard reply.
But London, Karen?
Are you serious, Karen?
Yes. I must go to London to persuade
the editor to read my stories.
Elle is right.
Traveling is expensive.
I'll repay you if they accept the book.
Train, ship, hotel,
all that for a meeting?
Mother and Tommy are providing for you.
If my book isn't published,
you'll provide for me forever.
I'm worried about your health.
I don't like you going there on your own.
- Tommy can come.
- That won't make it any less expensive.
Tommy, why don't you say something?
I understand your wish to go.
I know the quality of your work.
But I agree that it's too expensive
at this time.
If I had an inheritance like you,
I'd pay myself.
- You'd have spent it by now.
- What do you mean?
- What I said.
- What are you saying?
- You spend money like ...
- Stop arguing.
Elle has offered to read your book.
I think you should accept.
"Oh, you're so talented, Karen."
"Oh, Karen, I've prayed for it."
The Poet is your best short story
in my opinion.
Its characters and plot have all the
depth and vitality that the others don't.
Your stories certainly
don't lack imagination.
But rather calmness ...
... and heart.
- But The Poet has all that.
- At least you like one of them.
The others are good
but not as accomplished.
They're rather focused
on half-naked women.
They could be perceived as a bit
erotically curious if you get my drift.
Well ...
You asked for my advice,
and that is -
- to make the others more like The Poet.
Can this be my Elle?
Can this be the anarchist
consumed with passion -
- who went to Saint Petersburg
in support of the revolution?
Or maybe I'd expand it into a novel.
I think it has the potential.
Don't you see the thread?
The way the collection evolves?
The Poet cannot stand on its own.
It's an epilogue.
I realize that you're ambitious -
- but do yourself a favor
and make it easier on yourself.
I wrote my novel The Murderer
in two months over Christmas.
It doesn't have to be life and death.
But it is a matter of life and death.
To me it is.
But to the once so revolutionary
landowner's wife ...
... literature is more of a diversion.
Something that goes
with hanging 45 curtain panels.
Or fetching her husband's slippers.
"Here you are, Knud."
Propping up his ego.
What's got into you?
Mother.
I've written to Lady Islington
to ask if I can stay with her in London.
- Lady Islington?
- A friend from Kenya.
The mother of Lady Grigg -
- who is married to the governor.
I've found out that she's a personal
friend of the head of Putnam Books.
Is it safe to send her off
on this long journey?
This idea of her persuading anyone
to publish her book -
- after all the rejections ...
Oh my, is she going there
to star in a fashion show?
I suppose you paid for her outfits
as well.
Karen,
can I take your photograph?
See how happy she is.
I haven't seen her this happy since ...
Since I don't know when.
Here we are, Baroness Blixen,
welcome to London.
So, you're living
with your mother now?
Yes.
It's temporary, of course.
And I see you kept your title
after your divorce.
I don't mind.
My daughter always admired your spirit.
Karen Blixen is ... unconventional.
But she has class.
And she has stamina.
- Now you're writing a book.
- Yes.
Well actually,
I've been writing all my life.
But just now -
- I have sent off my first fully realized
manuscript to Putnam Books.
- But they didn't read it.
- Might you like to meet an editor?
Yes, of course. Especially if
it's someone who can make a difference.
Well, perhaps we could do
rather better than that.
Constant Huntington is
a personal friend of mine.
- The head of Putnam Books.
- Is he?
I'm having a few people over
on Saturday.
- Should I invite him?
- That would be delightful.
Yes. I think it would be
quite delightful.
There you are, dear. I've been
looking for you absolutely everywhere.
Let me introduce you
to Constant Huntington.
- Head of Putnam Books.
- Such a pleasure to meet you.
Baroness Blixen is a dear friend
of my daughter's. We met in Kenya.
- And you're a writer, I hear?
- The Baroness is terribly talented.
- She uses English like her mother tongue.
- My great-grandmother is from Guernsey.
- Guernsey, really?
- Yes.
On my mother's side,
they're all descended from vicars -
- but on my father's side,
they were soldiers.
This sounds like the beginning
of a great story.
Well, it was the beginning
of many great stories.
So, how long did you spend in Kenya?
Almost 20 years.
We had a coffee farm.
But first came the war,
then came the drought -
- and finally the crash.
I'm sorry.
Well, I believe that to make great art -
- you need to put yourself at great risk.
- You're a Byronist.
- I do love Byron.
But my true love is Shakespeare.
I believe we shall be excellent friends,
Baroness.
I'm so glad we met.
I would like to show you my work.
Is it a novel set in East Africa?
It is not about Africa,
and it is not a novel.
It is a collection of tales.
They are stories within stories.
Short stories usually
don't stand a chance.
I realize that everyone loves realism
right now.
I believe the reader wants
something different.
I think there is a market -
- for strange, fantastic literature.
People need to dream.
- Perhaps you're right.
- So what do you say?
I say, you're a fascinating lady
with a fascinating story.
If you have time,
do drop into Putnam's.
I'd love to show you our publishing
house. We'll see what we can do for you.
Constant Huntington is
a very cultivated man.
Very pleasant to talk to.
I'm delighted to hear it.
We're so happy for you.
Is everyone there?
Knud is in Sønderborg. We just had
dinner, and now we're playing bridge.
- I hope you clean them out.
- I'll do my best.
Remember to eat and drink, now.
I have to run, Mother.
What did she say?
She met with Constant Huntington,
the head of Putnam.
- Terrific.
- He's very interested.
They're meeting again tomorrow
at the publishing house.
- My! So you were right, Tommy.
- Yes. She's an incredible writer.
It was about this time,
the early crisp September in Rome -
- that Lincoln Forsner began to think,
he couldn't live without Olalla.
Pardon my curiosity, but ...
- Why are you not yet married?
- I don't believe in marriage.
You don't believe in marriage?
Karen, he doesn't believe in marriage.
I respect that others may want
to commit to matrimony, but ...
I find relationships
much deeper and more sincere -
- if they're free of duty,
expectations and fixed ideas.
Olalla.
I've made up my mind.
I want you to marry me.
I want you to come back to England
with me.
I want you to be mine forever.
She was enchanting.
The only fault on her beauty
was a scar -
- which ran like a little snake
from her right ear to her collarbone.
Yet somehow, this scar made her
even more divine.
When asked how she had come
to be so badly burnt -
- she would never answer -
- and would instead begin to talk of all
the great and wealthy men of Rome -
- who were all in love with her.
The library. Every book
we have published ends up here.
Oh! I could live here.
Indeed. For many of our authors,
it's a place for meetings and leisure.
We really want our house to be
an inspirational place -
- and for our writers to feel at home.
And to think that
they're burning books in Berlin now.
That is heartbreaking.
- Have you met George Orwell?
- No, I don't think so.
Very interesting young writer.
This is his debut.
About his life as a dishwasher
in Paris.
A dishwasher?
May I say again what a pleasure
it's been talking to you, Baroness.
Thank you.
No, please keep it.
A souvenir from Putnam Books.
And now, if you'll excuse me.
Please give my kindest regards
to dear Lady Islington.
But what about my book?
Ah, your tales. Yes, of course.
We have many fine
ladies' magazines here in London.
I'd be happy to recommend some of them -
- and then if I were you, I'd try
and submit your short stories there.
But I thought we would discuss
with a view to publishing them here.
That was never my intention.
Might you be interested in reading them?
I am sorry.
We can't publish short stories
by an unknown lady from Denmark.
I understand.
Thank you for the tour, Mr. Huntington.
- And a good day to you.
- And to you, Baroness.
- Safe travel home.
- Thank you.
- Where is Olalla?
- She left this morning.
Left? She's going to England
with me to be my wife.
Maybe she changed her mind.
- How could she? Olalla loves me.
- Happens all the time.
- Tell me where she is.
- She left of her own free will.
You're lying.
She left with him.
With the old man.
- Where to?
- I don't know.
There are many whorehouses in Europe.
Oh gracious!
I was certain Olalla had been
kidnapped by the old man.
I found out his name was Marcus Cocoza.
He was a rich merchant from Amsterdam.
I crossed Europe on their trail -
- going from city to city,
but everywhere I went -
- Cocoza had left prior to my arrival.
- We must give her plenty to drink.
- What else did he say?
The arsenic drops that Karen takes
appear to be harmful.
In Kenya, they're a cure-all.
Karen has taken them for years.
Karen ...
Can you hear me?
Stop taking those drops. The doctor says
they're destroying your organs.
Lady Islington sends you
her best wishes.
Just rest now.
Feeling better, my dear?
Somewhat.
Look what I brought you.
Dorothy Canfield's latest, Bonfire.
I like that title.
Bonfire.
It refers to the fact
that fires are always started by men -
- and then we women have
to put them out.
Sounds rather dull.
- Dull?
- Yes.
We women also ought to start fires
every now and then.
Well, it's a metaphor for war,
strife and unrest.
I doubt you want to start that, Karen.
You're a bit of a warrior yourself,
Bess, as we recall.
Well, well.
It's a splendid novel.
I had the pleasure
of reading it on the way.
- You're lucky to correspond with her.
- I'm ever so grateful for it.
Oh, and Dorothy's been made a member
of the Book of the Month Club -
- in America!
She's the first and only female member
of the committee.
You don't say.
What is the matter with you?
Nothing works.
You've handled worse.
- Jonna sends her best.
- Thanks.
- How is she?
- Well.
She's pregnant.
Yes. We're expecting our third.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
- We hope to find a house up here ...
- Tommy?
You've met Dorothy Canfield?
I picked her up at the train station
when she came to see Aunt Bess.
If Canfield really is as influential
as Aunt Bess says -
- she could help me with my book.
- You're off to America now?
- No.
- But you could write to her.
- Do you want me to write to her?
Yes. You know her.
No.
I merely drove her to Folehave.
Still, you could ask her
to read your sister's manuscript.
Dorothy Canfield is Aunt Bess's friend.
Any contact must go through her.
I can't discuss my stories
with Aunt Bess.
You have to go through Bess.
No two ways about it.
I searched far and wide for Olalla.
Then after eight months -
- my search brought me to a small hotel
in the Swiss Alps.
Suddenly, two young noblemen
came in from the cold.
I knew one of them.
His name was
Friederich von Hohenemser.
Lincoln Forsner?
But I had named him Skipper.
What brings you here?
After a dog of mine.
- I have to cross the mountain tomorrow.
- Oh, so do we.
This is my traveling companion,
Baron Guildenstern of Sweden.
- Nice to meet you.
- Enchanté.
- Can we?
- Please.
Sit down.
I came as fast as I could.
- Did Mother see you?
- No. Why?
I don't want her to know.
Know what?
What's going on?
I wrote a letter to Dorothy Canfield
from you.
From me?
All it's missing is your signature.
I thought that matter was closed.
Is that why you had me rush over?
We've already been over this.
Let me see the letter.
Give me a pen.
You might not care to be seen
in my company if you knew everything.
I'm not out of danger
before I'm out of Switzerland.
Danke schön.
I shot a man in the barricade fight
on the third of March.
You shot a rebel?
A man of the church.
Why would you shoot one of your own?
Because of a woman.
Subtitles: Helle Schou Kristiansen
Dansk Video Tekst