‘Ein Doppelgänger’ & ‘Carsten Curator’ by Theodor Storm (Review)

Thus far, the bulk of this year’s German Literature Month has been spent down in Austria, but it wouldn’t be #GermanLitMonth without a trip to the north of Germany, and 2021 is no exception.  We’re returning to one of my favourite literary haunts to spend some time by the coast and hear a couple of stories about two fascinating, and unfortunate, souls.  Yes, it’s time for another Storm (or two), so get comfy by the fireside and listen to some more novellas of winters past – take it away, Ted 😉

*****
After a bit of a gap, I’ve returned to my excellent Theodor Storm: Das große Lesebuch to cover two more stories, tales that have more than a little in common.  The first of these, Ein Doppelgänger (A Doppelgänger) starts with a well-to-do lawyer taking a well-earned holiday in the city of Jena.  While there, he makes the acquaintance of a forester, and when our lawyer friend discovers that he shares a hometown with the forester’s wife, he’s keen to make her acquaintance.  An invitation to the house in the woods duly follows, but it takes a while for him to understand who the woman is – and, more importantly, what happened to her father.

As any self-respecting Storm reader would have immediately surmised, this introduction is merely another of the writer’s frame narratives, and the bulk of Ein Doppelgänger has the lawyer narrator standing at the window of his guest room, looking back in time as he half-remembers, half-imagines, the life of John Hansen, a man who spent years in prison and struggled to make ends meet when he got out.  The focus of the story is on showing the reader the man’s life, telling both sides of the story, and allowing us to reconcile the two very different characters contained in one man: John Glückstadt, the aggressive, feared ex-con; and John Hansen, the loving father, whom his daughter Christine remembers fondly.

Although Storm’s stories often breeze merrily by, they tend to contain a touch of social commentary, and Ein Doppelgänger is no different.  Hansen’s history means he struggles to find work, and the ensuing poverty leads to bad moods and temptation.  While most of the townsfolk believe he deserves his fate, the mayor, a more sympathetic fellow, understands Hansen’s dilemma all too well:

»Ich scherze nicht, liebes Fräulein«, erwiderte der Bürgermeister; »es tut mir leid um diesen Menschen: das Glück in seinem Arm mag echt genug sein, ihm wird es nichts nützen; denn in seinem tiefsten Innern brütet er über einem Rätsel, zu dessen Lösung ihm weder sein Glück, wie Sie das junge Kind in seinen Armen zu nennen belieben, noch irgend ein anderer Mensch auf Erden verhelfen kann.«
‘Ein Doppelgänger’, p.408 (Fischer Verlag, 2017)

“I’m not joking, ma’am,” the mayor replied, “I feel sorry for the man; the happiness in his arms may be real enough, it won’t do him any good; for deep inside himself he’s brooding over a puzzle, the solution to which neither his happiness, as you like to call that young child in his arms, nor any other soul on earth can help him find.
*** (my translation) 

Despite Hansen’s best wishes and genuine attempts to reform, small towns have long memories, and given the man’s irascible nature, his eventual downfall seems inevitable.

I wouldn’t say Ein Doppelgänger is one of Storm’s best stories.  The transition from the lawyer’s daydreams to the imagined life of poor John Hansen is a rather shaky one, and it’s very clear where the story’s going from early on.  It’s not so much a case of Chekhov’s gun here as of Storm’s well, and it was no surprise to me to see that the English-language version, in the late Denis Jackson’s translation, paired it with Aquis submersus, another novella with a tragic ending.  Nevertheless, it’s an enjoyable piece, with the frame narrative allowing for an upbeat ending of redemption and new friendship.

*****
My second choice today has no frame narrative, instead thrusting us straight into the main story.  Carsten Curator (Carsten the Trustee) is centred on Carsten Carstens, an honest man with a reputation for dealing fairly with those who need help with legal matters they’re not permitted to manage themselves (e.g. single women and minors).  As a result, his nickname (as was the case with poor John ‘Glückstadt’) comes to usurp his real name in the minds of the townsfolk, who respect his willingness to help out those in need without exploiting them.

There is, however, one blemish on an otherwise impeccable life.  He becomes captivated by a beautiful woman he helps out, eventually marrying her, but this marriage to a partner who seems destined to make him unhappy is cut short by her death in childbirth, with the fate of the child also uncertain:

Carsten war dicht herangetreten; ein leises Zittern lief durch seinen Körper.  »Julianne!« sagte er.  »Dein Sohn!  Auch er wird mir das Herz zerreißen!«  Und gleich darauf: »Mein Herr und Gott, ich will ja leiden für mein Kind, nur laß ihn nicht verloren gehen!«
‘Carsten Curator’, p.295

Carsten had come right up to her; a slight shudder ran through his body.  “Juliane!” he said.  “Your son!  He, too will break my heart!”  And right after that: “Almighty God, I’m ready to suffer for my child, just let him not be lost to me!” ***

His wish is fulfilled, yet as I’m sure you’ve already guessed from the promise above, the son proves to be less of a blessing than a curse.  This is the start of a long decline, with disaster awaiting Carsten and those close to him at some point in the future.

Carsten Curator is a story that’s rather slow to start, taking its time to set up its premise.  We’re shown how a family of four comes together: the trustee himself; his unmarried sister, Brigitte; the flighty son, Heinrich; and Anna, a young girl to whom Carstens acts as both trustee and adoptive father.  It’s when the son grows up that the story begins to unfold, with the father hoping beyond hope that the wasteful, negative tendencies Heinrich shows are merely growing pains.  Each time his son fails him, Carstens bails him out and does his best to set him back on the right path, at his own expense.

This is another Storm tragedy, this time brought about by the sins of the son, rather than those of the father, and there’s more than a hint of Thomas Mann’s Buddenbrooks in this description of the demise of a respectable business family after the introduction of foreign genes.  Carstens’ fate seems to be to pay for his one youthful mistake, and whatever he does, the moment when his son will bring his whole legacy crashing down around him seems to be just around the corner…

Again, Carsten Curator is a story where the ending is clear from the very start, but it’s more successful than Ein Doppelgänger in the way it starts slowly and gradually rachets up the tension.  We know that a storm is on the way, but we’re not quite sure how hard it will hit, and who’ll be left to clean up afterwards.  You can trust me, though, when I say that it’s a spectacular, and fitting, finale to a tragic tale.

*****
Another enjoyable couple of evenings spent with Teddy S., then, and if these appeal, you’re in luck.  Jackson translated a number of Storm novellas, including these two, and you can find them among the six books that make up his series for Angel Classics.  A Doppelgänger, as mentioned, is bundled with Aquis submersis, while Carsten the Trustee is the headline act in a book containing three other shorter pieces.  Of course, you could just check out the whole series.  I’m hoping to try the lot at some point – but that’s a tale for another day 🙂