Pani Twardowska (& Her Husband): Mickiewicz's Take on Humour

pani_twardowska_13_.jpg, default, Still from the video animation ‘Pani Twardowska’, part of the ‘The Amazing Land of Quarks, Elephants and Pierogi’ series, illustrations by Magda Burdz, Pani Twardowska (& Her Husband): Mickiewicz's Take on Humour

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A look at an all-time classic of Polish literature and a high point of what Poles define as comical. How did Mickiewicz coin one of his greatest poems, and why do Poles love it so much? You’ll also find out what we decided to change in our video animation based on ‘Pani Twardowska’.

A breakthrough…

Written likely as early as 1820, ‘Pani Twardowska’ was originally published in 1822 as part of Ballads and Romances, a groundbreaking series of poems by the then 23-year-old poet Adam Mickiewicz. The series – which to a large extent changed the trajectory of Polish poetry – consisted of just 14 poems, all of which leaned heavily on the local folklore of Mickiewicz’s home area (around Navahrudak, in today’s Belarus).

With its tales of female lake spirits (rusalkas) and bards, set in a mysterious landscape of haunted marches and cemeteries, the book was a nod to the beliefs of local people and their worldview – which was based on faith and feeling, and open to the mystery of life and existence. This perspective stood in opposition to the ‘wise man’s looking glass and eye’, as Mickiewicz famously put it, and was itself a revolutionary move.

With the new Romantic sensitivity came new language. Mickiewicz wrote like none other before him – his poetic language was simple and natural. This stood in tremendous contrast with the high, stiff diction of the Enlightenment era, and it was very much in keeping with Mickiewicz’s ideal of the universal accessibility of his work, as discussed in the book’s intro. In writing his Ballads, the poet introduced dialectal and colloquial words, (most importantly Belaruthenisms), which for more conservatively inclined critics seemed nothing short of barbarism.

Thus, in many ways, Ballads and Romances was unlike anything that had ever been written in Polish literature. The same went for the ballad ‘Pani Twardowska’.

The real Pan Twardowski

Thumbnail — The so-called Twardowski's mirror from the 16th century, photo: Wilanów Palace / Wikimedia.org

Amongst over a dozen mostly serious and often gloomy poems included in Mickiewicz’s debut volume, the ballad ‘Pani Twardowska’ may seem like the poet’s most daring foray into the realm of the comical and purely fantastical.

The poem tells – indeed in quite an anecdotal fashion – the story of a Polish nobleman who, after years of evasion, must confront the Devil, with whom he had signed a pact for his own soul. In an attempt to save his (eternal) life, he comes up with a series of immensely difficult or painstaking tasks which the Devil (dubbed Mefistofel) must perform before he can claim Twardowski’s soul.

These include bringing to life a horse from a painting, crafting a whip from sand, and building a mountain-high building with truly painstaking decor, last but not least taking a bath in the Holy water. Only in the final challenge does the eponymous hero of the poem, Pani Twardowski make her appearance – but her presence is largely marginal, serving a purely comical purpose. There can be little doubt who the real protagonist of the poem is.

In writing ‘Pani Twardowska’, Mickiewicz drew upon a popular Polish legend. While the figure of Twardowski, who is sometimes described as the Polish Faust, is largely a legendary one, there are certain ties to historical reality. He is usually described as a magus who lived in the 16th century and who, through his magical skills, was able to conjure a mirror reflection of King Zygmunt August’s deceased wife Barbara.

In other tales, he is also credited with such incredible feats as digging the Augustów Canal in one night, transporting silver from all over Poland under Olkusz (where the silver mines are), or flipping an entire mountain upside down (the cliff of Pieskowa Skała, near Kraków).

Most versions of the legend have Twardowski sign the contract with the Devil and promise him his soul in exchange for Mephistopheles’ services. However, the cunning hero has no intention of fulfilling the contract. He simply avoids ever visiting Rome – where, according to the contract the two were supposed to conclude the deal.

Alas, he is eventually taken by surprise when unbeknownst to himself he visits an inn called Rome. It is here that Twardowski is eventually hoisted up by the devil into the sky. In one last burst of creative genius, Twardowski starts singing canticles to the Holy Virgin so that the Devil can’t help but drop him. Twardowski then lands on the moon, where he is left hanging. (As all Polish children know, you can still see him there as a dark spot on its surface.)

This is why in the Polish tradition (and an accompanying nursery verse), Twardowski is most frequently depicted as mounting a rooster while sitting on the moon. This version of Twardowski has also become the hero of many poems, novels and at least one sci-fi short film. This, however, is precisely the part of the legend which Mickiewicz chose to omit in his canonical take.

Twardowski à la Mickiewicz

Yet it is Mickiewicz’s Twardowski in ‘Pani Twardowska’ who has become a sort of all-time Polish literary hero – a favourite with children and adults. The embodiment of pride (duma) and cunning (spryt), as well as Sarmatian fantasy (fantazja) and frolicking (swawola), this Twardowski is a loveable if somewhat cheeky and bullying merrymaker (hulaka) who is able to outsmart even the devil himself. This Twardowski can be seen as a mixture of all the imagined ideal and not-so-ideal Polish national traits. So you shouldn’t be surprised if he drinks vodka too!

With its simplicity, great humour and its fantastic plot suitable to all ages, the poem has become one of the most popular of all of Mickiewicz’s poems. As a result, its plot – as well as many turns of phrases and expressions – remain well-known to all Polish speakers, with many of such phrases (like ‘Ta karczma Rzym się nazywa’ [This inn is called Rome] or ‘Lecz pan każe, sługa musi’ [As a lord commands, a servant must do]) adopting somewhat of a proverbial quality.

Put simply, in ‘Pani Twardowska’, Mickiewicz succeeded in forging a poetic manner of speaking which is at ease in telling a great story, chock-full of suspense and humour. This however – as you will see – comes at a price.

Laughing with Mickiewicz today

A careful reader will not fail to notice that ‘Pani Twardowska’ contains some aspects which might be considered slightly controversial or even offensive for today’s sensibilities. These include a depiction of the devil whom Mickiewicz paints in German garb. This image was largely in keeping with the traditional folk representation of evil as coming from outside of the community – an idea which might have been further enhanced in the partition era. Read today, however, it might be more of a sign of ingrained Germanophobia rather than any actual statement about the Devil and his ways.

Twardowski’s second task contains perhaps a more unsettling detail. The depiction of the house which the Devil is supposed to build includes an alarming piece of decor – what Twardowski describes as ‘a thatched roof made of Jewish beards’. Again, this intentionally humorous motif may be seen today as trace of ingrained antisemitic sentiment present in traditional culture.

Finally and, perhaps, most importantly, the poem ends with a scene that forms a humorous culmination – but which is hardly acceptable today. In the last scene of the poem, we find Twardowski presenting Mephistopheles with his final task, which is that the Devil spend a year with his wife, Pani Twardowska. At that moment, the devil looks about him and then starts slowly sneaking away to the door, before making a quick exit through the keyhole. As the final words of the poem emphatically put it, ‘and he’s been like that ever since’.

It’s worth mentioning that this is also the only appearance of Twardowska in the whole poem entitled with her name – yet she doesn’t even get to say a word!

Pani Twardowska - Image Gallery

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Why does the Devil flee? One interpretation argues that the Devil is afraid of Pani Twardowska’s ‘kindness and goodness’ (and her, as Poles say, ‘dusza anielska’, or angelic soul). However, the image of the Devil – having performed tasks of great annoyance and nuisance – fleeing at the prospect of spending a year with her invokes a satirical and sexist tradition.

In this centuries-old European trope, a woman, and more specifically a wife, is represented as someone quarrelsome and malignant: a harridan, a shrew (megiera, hetera) or even a witch (wiedźma). Of course, the whole scene scores easy points (and easy laughs) only in a culture entrenched in misogyny. In fact, in Mickiewicz's day, we know of instances of women who were outraged and resented by the poem’s message.

While all these elements should be certainly noted and critically evaluated, they should not spoil the fun and pleasures of Mickiewicz's poem – especially as Mickiewicz himself was a great friend and adherent of women’s emancipation (as his relation and correspondence with Margaret Fuller attests). Just as he was a great supporter of the Jewish cause.

Find out what we changed in our film interpretation of Adam Mickiewicz's ‘Pani Twardowska’, part of 'The Amazing Land of Quarks, Elephants & Pierogi', a series produced by Culture.pl and dedicated to the promotion of the Polish language and literature:

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The Devil Was in the Details: Pani Twardowska by Adam Mickiewicz

The swooshes & ‘zgrzyts’ in ‘Rzym’

Our video attempts to steer clear of these possible pitfalls by presenting a slightly different ending – a tongue-in-cheek reference to the notoriously ‘difficult’ Polish language (which we obviously don’t agree with). We’ve also decided to present Pani Twardowska as a strong, smart and self-aware woman, who’s able to help her husband out of a really dire situation.

What we found most interesting about Mickiewicz’s poem – and so decided to bring to the fore in our film version – is the poet’s ample use of verbs which describe sounds or sudden movements (like świnąć, dzwonić or zgrzytać). In fact, from the very beginning, the poem – and with it, the whole inn – vibrates with these ‘noisy’ words and dynamic verbs. In the text they are often accompanied by the sounds of shouts and calls (‘Cha Cha’, ‘Hi Hi’, ‘Hejże Hola!!‘, ‘Co u licha!‘) and wonderful onomatopoeia, like ‘cmok’ (the sound of smacking lips) or Mickiewicz’s very own ‘dbrum’ (the Devil’s vocal reaction to being bathed in holy water).

In highlighting these aural aspects of the poem, it was our goal to show that language always comes through as a variety of different phenomena – which go beyond just words and grammar. It can include many different aspects, even those as awkward as words used to imitate or represent sounds.

Hence, our ‘Pani Twardowska’ brims with sounds and noises – and their representations in the Polish language. We encourage you to note the differences and similarities between how these sounds are represented in Polish and other languages you might know. So enjoy! And hulaj!

You can learn more about Polish onomatopoeia here: Pstryk! Skrzyp! Zgrzyt! The Bizarre Sounds of Polish Onomatopoeia

Find out more about the Polish alphabet in our multimedia guide.

Written by Mikołaj Gliński, Jun 2021

Pani Twardowska – video animation, illustrations by Magda Burdzyńska – Image Gallery

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Language English

adam mickiewicz

pan twardowski

polish romantic literature

polish romantic poets

polish romanticism

humour