Thoughts on Rodziewiczówna, The Girl with a Needle, and Demon Copperhead

Maria Rodziewiczówna: May You Live in Interesting Times

I read the biography of Maria Rodziewiczówna by Emilia Padoł. Rodziewiczówna was one of the most widely read authors of the last century—in one ranking, she even took second place, right behind Henryk Sienkiewicz. Yet, I feel that among my generation, she has been largely forgotten, despite the 2023 TVP series based on Dewajtis.

Rodziewiczówna is a fascinating figure, though her literary work is not well known to me. As a middle schooler, I only read Wrzos, which I found in my family’s home library. The biography doesn’t delve deeply into her books, focusing instead on Lato leśnych ludzi (Summer of the Forest People), largely because it was inspired by the author’s own life. I’m not surprised by this, as—according to descriptions from Rodziewiczówna’s contemporaries and the biographer herself—her writing was somewhat formulaic, in contrast to her life, which was full of unconventional choices.

Rodziewiczówna was a Catholic, a patriot, and a kresowianka (a woman from the eastern borderlands) who promoted Polish culture and Catholicism in the Eastern Borderlands region. As a paternalistic landowner, her works did not shy away from antisemitic themes, which today sparks controversy. At the same time, she was remarkably modern for her era—she dressed in a masculine style (short hair, ties, jackets), and her personal life defied the stereotypes of femininity of her time. She had close relationships (likely romantic) with two women, which was not only unusual for the period but also rarely discussed.

Ideologically, I am far from Rodziewiczówna, but I wish for more figures like her. People who break stereotypes, proving that life is more complicated than defining oneself through group affiliation and conforming to its norms. Maria Rodziewiczówna certainly demonstrated that it is possible to achieve success and gain approval while living life on one’s own terms. Słonimski’s anecdote (“Welcome, Ladies, Gentlemen, and You, Maria Rodziewiczówna”) could, in this context, be seen as a compliment rather than a joke about her unconventionality and ambiguity.

I wholeheartedly recommend the biography. It’s not just a story about the author but also an excellent source of knowledge about the fate of Poland and Polish lands in the second half of the 19th and the first half of the 20th century. Paradoxically, Rodziewiczówna becomes a backdrop to the turbulent history of the country in this book. From the January Uprising and the repression that affected many landed families, through the belle époque—during which, despite the 1905 Revolution in the Russian partition, Rodziewiczówna lived relatively peacefully—to the turmoil of World War I, the challenges of the interwar period, the chaos of World War II, and the Warsaw Uprising. Yes, Rodziewiczówna experienced all these historical storms in a single lifetime.

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“The Girl with the Needle”: The Line Between Suffering and Choice

After leaving the preview screening of The Girl with the Needle, I said it was the best film I’d seen in a long time, maybe even ever. A week later, the first part of that statement still holds true; the second, probably not.

Reading reviews after the screening, I came across the opinion that Magnus von Horn’s film is “misery porn,” focusing on suffering, psychological, social, and physical violence. Indeed, aside from a few moments and the ending, there are few positive accents. However, I didn’t feel that it was a drawn-out wallowing in evil for cheap emotions. A folksy adjective comes to mind: “lifelike.” Sometimes things are good, sometimes they’re bad—in the case of The Girl with the Needle, 95% of the time, they’re bad. People do bad things, and fate throws even more bad their way. But I don’t think this is a tearjerker designed to manipulate the viewer’s emotions. Rather, it’s an amplified portrayal of the lives of many men and women of that era. The protagonist is not a victim of fate but a person in a disadvantaged position, making both good and bad decisions—out of compulsion, necessity, or her own will.

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The Inevitability of Evil and the Strength of the Spirit

What connects Rodziewiczówna’s biography, the film The Girl with the Needle, and the character of Demon Copperhead from Barbara Kingsolver’s novel is the sense of being surrounded by evil that attacks from all sides. “Attacks” is both too strong and too weak a word. Evil is omnipresent; there is no escape from it. Plans to fix the situation fail, and the overwhelming reality closes in on the characters from all sides. Escape from this yoke is not only physically impossible but, worse, unimaginable.

All these stories raise the question: to what extent are the characters’ fates the result of their individual choices, and to what extent are they simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

In Rodziewiczówna’s letters, we see her grappling with adversity, striving to maintain dignity and hope for a better tomorrow. In letters to another friend, we see her overwhelmed by reality, despairing, and offering Cassandra-like visions. Similarly, the protagonist of The Girl with the Needle—despite the fact that 95% of the time things are bad—doesn’t lose her spirit, as evidenced by the film’s ending. Demon Copperhead, caring for his addicted mother, beaten by her partner, and left isolated, also refuses to give up, even though his life is a series of misfortunes. What unites these characters is the inevitability of evil, but also an extraordinary strength of spirit that allows them to endure.