Wilhelm Mach put it most accurately, referring to the works of Tadeusz Konwicki. Mach’s observation, in turn, was noted by Kazimierz Kutz and included in one of the texts of his volume of memoirs Klapsy i ścinki (Clappers and Snippets) (1999):
When [Konwicki] was getting down to All Souls’ Day, I met Wilhelm Mach. He asked me about Konwicki’s new film, and when I could not give a comprehensive answer, he said: ‘I'll tell you the story... of course, there will be a war, Lithuanian partisans, the protagonist will be a young man, there will be a girl too, they will be attracted to each other, but, as it always is with Tadeusz, it won’t be easy for them, he will circle around her, and circle until they find themselves in bed, and here it will be even harder, but in the end, after much torment, the situation will be beyond solution, and he will have to reach into his fly. And do you know what will happen then?... the shell cases will spill out!'
The above anecdote perfectly illustrates the romantic legacy weighing down on successive generations of Slavs living at the Vistula River. However, their duties to the homeland did not prevent them from treating their bed as something more than just a piece of furniture intended for a well-deserved rest. That has emboldened us to compile this selection of the most famous couples in Polish prose.
Bolesław Prus, 'The Waistcoat' (1882)
The Waistcoat by Bolesław Prus is a masterpiece of Polish love novella writing, despite the fact that not a single word is used to describe feelings. The uncomplicated story is extracted from the lives of an ordinary couple whose names are not even known to the narrator, a neighbour from the same tenement house. The couple were not particularly poor, which they owed to hard work. The woman gave lessons and sewed while the man sat over papers from the office until midnight. One day he suffered a haemorrhage. The doctor who was brought in spoke vaguely while the patient was daily losing weight and strength. The situation came to a point when he confessed to his wife that, in order not to worry her about the poor state of his health, he had been tightening the belt of his waistcoat with a buckle. He noticed at last that he no longer needed to, for the waistcoat was becoming too tight day by day. Hope entered his waning heart and, however short-lived, lit up his last days. Secretly, his wife shortened the other waistband of her husband’s waistcoat. Such mutual devotion, in happiness and misery to the point of death, can hardly be described by any other term than love.
Henryk Sienkiewicz, 'Trilogy' (1884–1888)
Andrzej Kmicic (Daniel Olbrychski) and Oleńka Billewiczówna (Małgorzata Braunek) in The Deluge directed by Jerzy Hoffman, 1974, photo by Franciszek Kądziołka/Filmoteka Narodowa/fototeka.fn.org.pl
In each of the Trilogy novels, Henryk Sienkiewicz wove a love theme between a maiden from a noble manor and a knight. In With Fire and Sword (1884), Helena Kurcewiczówna and Jan Skrzetuski are a couple in love; in The Deluge (1886) - Oleńka Billewiczówna and Andrzej Kmicic, and in Fire in the Steppe (1888) - Barbara Jeziorkowska and Michał Wołodyjowski.
In the first two novels, the duty of the chosen woman is fortitude and patience, particularly put to the test by Kmicic/Babinicz. In the third, on the other hand, the relationship between the two main characters ends tragically. Chivalrous honour orders Mr Wołodyjowski to sacrifice his personal happiness. He dies in the ruins of the fortress he blew up in Kamieniec.
In Trilogy, the fairer sex rarely made it to the foreground, mostly being a make-weight to the glorious feats of the heroic warriors, overcoming many adversities before they reach the threshold of familial stability.
Eliza Orzeszkowa, 'On the Niemen' (1888)
Justyna Orzelska (Katarzyna Iwona Pawlak) and Janek Bohatyrowicz (Adam Marjański) in On the Niemec directed by Zbigniea Kuźmiński, 1986, photo by Stanisław Bielejec, Filmoteka Narodowa/fototeka.fn.org.pl
Justyna Orzelska, the young heroine of Eliza Orzeszkowa’s On the Niemen, is a déclassé noblewoman raised by her uncle, the prosperous landowner Benedykt Korczyński. Thanks to her neighbourly acquaintance with an impoverished nobleman Jan Bohatyrowicz, the girl begins to appreciate the value of simple work. In love with him, she rejects the rich but vain candidates her guardians suggest she should marry. Jan, who reciprocates her feelings, fears that such a mésalliance has no chance of success. Justyna patiently overcomes her relatives’ prejudices and brings about her engagement with her beloved. In the process, she manages to settle a long-standing dispute between her uncle Benedykt and Jan’s uncle Anzelm Bohatyrowicz.
It is a beautiful example of a feeling fulfilled, triumphing over conventions and stereotypes. Orzeszkowa’s novel proved that the heroism of a nation should not be seen solely in successive armed uprisings but in the toil of everyday work in the homeland. Unfortunately, however, it is biased prose, with a clear division between industrious and parasitic individuals. This leads to predictable narrative solutions, thus discouraging potential readers.
Bolesław Prus, 'The Doll' (1890)
Stanisław Wokulski (Mariusz Dmochowski) and Izabela Łęcka (Beata Tyszkiewicz) in The Doll directed by Wojciech Jerzy Has, 1968, photo by Stefan Kurzyp/Kadr Film Studio/Filmoteka Narodowa/fototeka.fn.org.pl
In The Doll, leading positivist writer Bolesław Prus described the unhappy love between the dashing merchant Wokulski and the impoverished aristocrat Izabela Łęcka. He created one of the greatest Polish romances, with a pair of people from different social classes who fail to live up to common prejudices. Wokulski, although a gifted man of action, was still a despised commoner in the eyes of the declining aristocracy. The woman he loved did not associate the institution of marriage with love but only with material goods. She despised the man who sought her affection on account of his low birth.
Wokulski, a sound rationalist in business, showed an idealistic helplessness in the sphere of feelings. Blinded by his love for Izabela Łęcka, he was unable to see her true face. Finding out that his chosen one was having an affair with his cousin Starski, he threw himself under the train like a romantic lover. In Prus's The Doll, the feeling of love, unfortunately, becomes a destructive force.
Henryk Sienkiewicz, 'Quo Vadis' (1896)
Ligia (Magdalena Mielcarz) and Marek Winicjusz (Paweł Deląg) in Quo Vadis directed by Jerzy Kawalerowicz, 2001, photo: promotional material
This a classic example of love breaking all barriers: tribal, caste, social and religious. Lygia, the royal daughter of the northern Slavic Lugii tribe, ended up in Rome as a hostage. Marcus Vinicius, on the other hand, was a Roman military tribune and a wealthy patrician. Młodzieńcem skłonnym do uciech stołu i łoża, uczestnikiem rozpasanych uczt na cesarskim dworze Nerona. Influenced by his infatuation with Lygia, who first dared to resist his coarse advances, he underwent an inner transformation. As he followed the girl, he became convinced that she was a follower of Christianity, the monotheistic religion that Nero had fought against. He saw the value and power of the message coming from the Christian religious rites.
In the hitherto ruthless Roman, his conscience awoke. He began to get involved in protecting Lygia. He makes bold endeavours, gets baptised, and finally, his advances are accepted. The culmination of his struggle to win her heart was their marriage in the name of the Christian God.