The Sounds of the Town
Gosta Berling quickly goes from minister to beggar. In rags, his journey takes him from forest to village. The peaceful serenity of the forest is juxtaposed with the sounds of the village through use of imagery:
“Here he heard the blows echoing in all the barns as they threshed out the grain. Loads of timber and charcoal-vans kept coming down from the inexhaustible forests. Endless loads of metal followed the deep ruts which the hundreds gone before had cut. Here he saw sleighs filled with travellers speed from house to house, and it seemed to him as if pleasure held the reins, and beauty and love stood on the runners. Oh, how he longed for the peace of the forest.”
A Deal with the Devil
Sintram is a devilish figure who arranges fancies himself the actual devil in the flesh. He arranges for a signing of a pact, a bounty in exchange for the souls of pensioners. The dance with the devil comes to an end amid a flourish of imagery:
“They push aside the chairs, make a ring about the kettle, which stands in the middle of the black floor, and whirl in a wild dance. Innermost in the circle dances the devil, with wild bounds; and at last he falls flat beside the kettle, rolls it over, and drinks…At last it is tipped over by a push, and the hot, sticky drink pours over them. When they rise up, swearing, the devil is gone; but his golden promises float like shining crowns over the pensioners’ heads.”
The Manor of Borg
The manor of Borg is described using a wealth of gothic imagery which serves to endow the novel with a pervasive sense of otherworldliness. A supernatural element permeates the narrative and yet, even by the end, nothing really uncanny or inexplicable occurs:
“If I were lord of Borg I would search through the ground, both in the park and under the cellar floor in the house, and in the fertile mould out in the meadows, until I had found the witch’s worm-eaten corpse, and then I would give her a grave in consecrated earth in the Svartsjö churchyard...some stormy night I would set fire to the wooden walls, and let it destroy everything, so that no one more might be tempted to live in the home of misfortune. Afterwards no one should be allowed to approach that doomed spot; only the church-tower’s black jackdaws should build in the great chimney, which, blackened and dreadful, would raise itself over the deserted foundations.
Church v. The World
Philosophical imagery is also called upon for commentary upon the meaning of religion in life. The church has been whitewashed and paintings removed. Has this cosmetic change altered the forces of religious fervor?
“But the next Sunday morning Svartsjö church stood gleamingly white...But the earth, men’s beloved dwelling, is green, the sky is blue. The world glows with colors. Why should the church be white? White as winter, naked as poverty, pale as grief! It does not glitter with hoar-frost like a wintry wood; it does not shine in pearls and lace like a white bride. The church stands in white, cold whitewash, without an image, without a picture.”
