"Dear Sara Alelia": An Episode in R�lvaag's Life

Abstract

11 "Dear Sara Alelia": An Episode in Rolvaag's Life by Einar Haugen Ole Edvart Rolvaag, author and professor, is characterized in the "official" biography by his colleagues Theodore Jorgenson and Nora O. Solum as "an inveterate letter writer."1 They quote extensively from his letters in an effort to give an intimate , personal picture of the man and his work, but the possibilities the letters provide are far from exhausted. While doing research on Rolvaag in the archives he founded at St. Olaf College, it became apparent that an edition of his letters is long overdue. Rolvaag's letters cast light not only on his own life and writings, but also on a large segment of the Norwegian America of his day. It is no coincidence that his first published novel, Amerika-breve , in 1912, was written in epistolary form.2 Among the letters in Rolvaag's hand collected in the archives there was one that especially called attention to itself by being marked "restricted." It was accompanied by a covering letter from Bishop Eivind Berggrav of Oslo to President Clemens Granskou of St. Olaf College. The "restricted" letter , written in 1927, was brought to this country in 1956. Berggrav asked that the letter be restricted for at least ten years, a period that is now long past. The letter was mysterious in more than one way. Although unmistakably written in Rolvaag's flowing, hand269 270 Einar Haugen some script, it was not signed "O. E. Rolvaag" or "Ole," as were most of his letters. It was signed "Norenius" and addressed to a person whom he called "Sara Alelia," suggesting a desire for anonymity. The bishop explained that the letter was written to a close friend of his family. She was a woman who in a moment of desperation had halfheartedly attempted suicide by walking out on the thin ice of a nearby body of water. He added that she was a "widow, highly gifted, but also very self-centered and ambitious for recognition, frustrated ."3 But he did not reveal her name. No one at the Norwegian- American Historical Association was aware of her real name or the reason for Rolvaag's curious pseudonym; and they had no knowledge of other such letters. The contents of the letter, to be examined later, were deeply moving, expressing Rolvaag's concern about the recipient's well-being. He urged upon her his philosophy of active concern for one's fellow beings as the best guarantee of happiness. Neither the letter nor the peculiar disguise is mentioned in any biography or study of Rolvaag's life. Even the members of his own family could not solve the riddle. In preparation for a book on Rolvaag, I was able to pursue my researches in Norway.4 Even the experience of a visit to his birthplace on the island of Donna in northern Norway did not solve the riddle of Norenius. But the answer came during study in the archives of the University of Oslo Library , which provided a truly serendipitous solution. Librarian 0ivind Anker, among other things well known for his work on Bjornson, was able to inform me that in that very year (1980) a collection of letters from Rolvaag had been turned over to the library. Anker had personally received the letters from the recipient's daughter, a well-known Norwegian art weaver, Else Hailing. A number of these were addressed to "Sara Alelia" and signed "Norenius." Anker was able to identify "Sara Alelia" as Marie Hailing Swensen (1877-1964), usually known as Mimmi Swensen. She had been married to the Reverend Johannes Swensen (1862- 1920). 5 She came of a family distinguished for their work in education and the church. Her father, Honoratus "Dear Sara Alelia" 271 Hailing (1819-1886), was a minister, known for his efforts on behalf of the laboring classes and for his authorship of numerous works of a religious nature, including at least one novel. He was also the founder and first editor of a still existing religious journal, For Fattig og Rig (For Poor and Rich).6 His son, Marie's brother Sigurd, was an educator who founded a private school in Oslo known...