Dr. Adriaan by Louis Couperus

Full house in Holland

Dr. Adriaan, published in 1903, is the fourth and final novel in the Books of the Small Souls series by Dutch author Louis Couperus, having been preceded by 1) Small Souls, 2) The Later Life, and 3) The Twilight of the Souls. This fourth installment takes place ten years after The Twilight of the Souls. Adriaan (Addie) van der Welcke, now 26, has realized his dream of becoming a physician. He is a general practitioner, which at the time included the treatment of various nervous disorders which are now under the domain of psychiatrists. In such cases, Addie has become known for his adept use of hypnotism as a treatment technique. He now has a wife, Mathilde, and two toddler children.

Addie and his family reside with his parents, Baron Henri van der Welcke and Constance (née van Lowe), who have inherited the Van der Welcke estate in Driebergen, a country town outside of the Hague. In the previous novel, Constance’s brother Gerrit van Lowe died, leaving behind a wife and nine children. Addie, who has always been mature beyond his years, has assumed the guardianship of this family, even though he is only six years older than the eldest of Gerrit’s children. They all live in the Driebergen mansion, as do elderly Mama van Lowe and a few cousins with various ailments whom Addie is treating for free. At one point in the book, I counted 19 residents in the Driebergen house, not counting servants, plus a few other relatives living nearby who show up for dinner almost every night. Addie’s wife Mathilde does not fit in with the Van Lowe family and resents the fact that she has to share her husband with his numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins. This causes problems in their marriage. Addie is happy living in Driebergen, generously offering his medical skills to the country poor, but Mathilde would prefer they move back to the Hague, where Addie can become a fashionable big-city doctor and grow a prosperous practice serving the urban wealthy.

The closest literary analogy I can make to Couperus’s Small Souls series is the Jalna novels by Canadian author Mazo de la Roche. Both feature a large family of distinct personalities whose lives revolve almost entirely around each other and their family dinners at Grandma’s house. The Jalna novels are a little prone to soap-opera melodrama, however, while the Small Souls books read more like real life. Dr. Adriaan doesn’t have many of the momentous or scandalous events one can frequently count on in family sagas: love affairs, deaths, crimes, divorces, etc. Instead, these small souls tend to live small quiet lives like most of us do. Couples question their relationships. Siblings quarrel. Young people try to find their direction in life. Aging people come to terms with old regrets and resign themselves to contentment. Some deal with pesky, non-fatal illnesses, both physical and mental. If this were the first novel in the series, such prosaic happenings might be too boring to be justified. Couperus, however, has developed these characters over the course of four volumes, so that the reader has come to know them, identify with them, feel for them, and become invested in their lives and struggles. Anyone who’s read the first three Small Souls novels will be thoroughly engaged from the first page of Dr. Adriaan.

Although Couperus could have kept this series going for at least another novel or two, he does conclude Dr. Adriaan with a touch of finality, and he never returned to the Van Lowe family. A naturalist in a similar mode as Emile Zola or Theodore Dreiser, Couperus enjoyed some popularity in English translation in the early 20th century, but I think it’s fair to say he has since largely been forgotten by American readers. That’s a shame, because he really is a very talented and accomplished novelist who deserves worldwide recognition, as evidenced by his compelling Books of the Small Souls.

The Twilight of the Souls by Louis Couperus

Neuroses of the Dutch

Louis Couperus (1863–1923) is one of the most prominent authors in modern Dutch literature, and many of his works have been published in English translation. His novel The Twilight of the Souls, published in 1902, is the third book in a series of four novels known as The Books of Small Souls, the first two volumes being Small Souls and The Later Life. These novels chronicle the lives of the fictional Van Lowe family. The eight Van Lowe siblings grew up on the East Indian island of Java, where their father was Dutch governor general. When the first novel begins, the father is deceased, the siblings are now in their thirties, forties, and fifties and residing in The Hague, most with children of their own. Collectively, the prestige and fortunes of the Van Lowes have taken a gradual downward turn since Papa’s glory days in the diplomatic service.

The first two novels concentrated primarily on Constance van der Welcke (née van Lowe) and her immediate family. The Twilight of the Souls broadens its focus to other members of the Van Lowe clan, allowing the reader to learn more about siblings who were barely mentioned in the two previous volumes. The family gathers weekly at elderly Mama van Lowe’s house for Sunday dinner and card games. Her children do their best to keep Mama unaware of the family’s problems, but some scandals and tragedies are too big to sweep under the rug. In the opening chapter of The Twilight of the Souls, we find that Ernst van Lowe is going mad. A bachelor who leads a largely solitary life, Ernst is hearing voices and experiencing hallucinations. He envisions scores of “souls” chained to him, wailing in pain, whom he must guard and protect. The rest of the family comes to Ernst’s aid in finding him psychiatric help. He is not the only Van Lowe, however, experiencing mental problems in this novel.

At times in this novel, Couperus gives a somewhat romanticized depiction of mental illness, in that the hallucinations described are almost operatically dramatic. There’s nothing here beyond the realm of realism, however; Couperus almost invariably draws his characters with an authentic psychological verisimilitude. The reader has no trouble believing or relating to the psychological maladies of the characters—Gerrit’s depression, Paul’s OCD and germaphobia, Mama’s forebodings of death. In the Van Lowe family, Couperus has created an ensemble cast with whom the reader can identify and become emotionally invested. While The Twilight of the Souls is a very fine novel in its own right, its merits are compounded by the foundation that Couperus built in the first two novels, upon which this third installment productively builds.

The whole idea behind the concept of “small souls” is that these characters are shaped and controlled by rather petty concerns—social climbing, family squabbles, keeping up appearances, and so on. This never feels shallow or inconsequential, however, because it is a reflection of real life, or most of our real lives, anyway. In each novel, certain characters strive to rise above the “smallness” of their lives to find a deeper meaning and a more fulfilling existence. Most readers can identify with such endeavors, especially when revealed with the sensitivity and insight that Couperus brings to these books. In the saga of the Van Lowes, one is sure to find some engaging parallels to their own personal and family dramas.

Another plot thread taken up in this book is that Adriaan van der Welcke, now 16 or 17 years of age, has decided that he does not wish to pursue a career in the diplomatic service and instead wants to become a physician. This leads us to volume four in the series, entitled Dr. Adriaan.

The Later Life by Louis Couperus

Midlife crises in The Hague

The Later Life is a novel by Dutch author Louis Couperus (1863–1923). It is the second book in a four-novel quartet called Small Souls or The Books of Small Souls. (The first novel in the series is also titled Small Souls). The Later Life was originally published in the Netherlands in 1902, which is the time period in which the novel is set. It was first published in English in 1915.

Small Souls introduced us to the extensive Van Lowe family of The Hague, and the family drama continues in The Later Life. This second novel begins about two months after the end of Small Souls. In that previous book, Constance van der Welcke (née van Lowe) had a confrontation and a falling out with the rest of the Van Lowe family. After fleeing to Paris to be alone for several weeks, she returns to her husband and son in The Hague. Soon, the Van der Welckes patch up relations with Constance’s relatives and resume attendance at the family dinner parties.

The Later Life seems quite a bit shorter than Small Souls, and there is less going on in this second outing. Instead of bouncing around the entire Van Lowe family, here the focus remains primarily on the Van der Welckes: Constance, her husband Henri, and son Adriaan. Shortly after returning from Paris, Constance comes to the realization that her husband and her niece Marianne are in love with each other, though so far the interaction between the two has remained innocent. Meanwhile, an old school chum of Henri’s named Brauws returns to The Hague and becomes the frequent dinner guest of the Van der Welckes. Despite his history with Henri, Brauws forms a closer bond with Constance, and she falls in love with him. Much like her husband’s budding romance, there has been no physical affirmation of the relationship, just conversation. Will either of these harmless infatuations develop into full-fledged infidelity?

The title “The Later Life” may seem to imply that the novel is about senior citizens, but the three main players in this love quadrangle only range in age from their late thirties to their early forties (Marianne is about 19 or 20). Constance, Henri, and Brauws, however, all go through some sort of midlife crisis in this book and find themselves contemplating their lost youth. They are all dissatisfied and depressed by their present state of living. They’re lonely, trapped in loveless relationships, and/or depressed by the lack of meaning in their lives. Each wonders if he or she can finally find true happiness in later life, or is it too late to make a fresh start?

The phrase “small souls” is brought up more than a few times in the first two novels of this series. Couperus uses these words to signify the restrictive societal conventions under which these characters have developed and continue to live their lives. While somewhere in the world surely people are truly living lives that matter, the Van Lowes’ lives revolve around petty aristocratic concerns over what is proper or what people might think. “The world is full of mighty problems; and we . . . we are pigmies . . . in the tiny world of our own selves. . . .” says Brauws. Whatever was the equivalent of the Victorian era in the Netherlands, Couperus’s novels don’t so much rebel against it as rather critically acknowledge it as a pervading fact of life. Constance is the only one in her family who even questions the established order of things—whether these dinner parties or social engagements even matter. At 43, she realizes that she’s never really been in love, that she’s never even really lived. In the Small Souls series, which has proven a great read so far, Couperus reveals the existential angst beneath the veneer of upper-class respectability.

Small Souls by Louis Couperus

Compelling start to a Dutch family saga

Name a Dutch author. I dare you. If you’re an American, chances are it’ll be Anne Frank or maybe Spinoza. Not much Dutch literature has been available to English-language readers, although there has been an increase in the last few decades. One notable Dutch author, however, did enjoy worldwide success in the early 20th century: Louis Couperus. His novel Small Souls was first published in 1901, then came out in English in 1914. It is the first of four books in a series also called Small Souls.

The Van Lowe family lives in The Hague. The family patriarch, “Papa” van Lowe, is deceased when the novel opens. He is survived by his widow, eight children, and numerous grandchildren. The elder Van Lowe was formerly the Dutch governor general of the colony of Java, a very prestigious position through which he might occasionally rub elbows with the King and Queen. None of Papa’s children, however, have quite lived up to his level of distinction. The eight Van Lowe siblings now find themselves in varying levels of social status and class, which sometimes inspires envy and resentment among them. Because they’re well-to-do, they spend most of their time visiting one another, throwing parties, criticizing and gossiping about each other. (Some of the men have careers, but we don’t really see them at work.) Twenty years ago, one daughter, Constance, married a diplomat forty years her senior. She cheated on her husband with one of his subordinates, causing a divorce and a scandal that forced her and her lover to flee to Brussels. Now, after 15 years in exile, she has returned to The Hague to reconnect with her family and her homeland, but not everyone is willing to overlook her shameful past.

Small Souls reminds me of British author John Galsworthy’s Forsyte Saga (I have only read the first book in that series). In both cases, the reader is introduced to a large, rather wealthy family. An extramarital scandal threatens the family’s respectability, and the various siblings all have deep-seated beefs against one another. Often these squabbles feel like much ado over rich people problems.

What makes Small Souls interesting, however, is its quintessential Dutchness. There are thousands of novels set in London, but The Hague? In English, hardly any. Couperus’s novels provide a welcome look into Dutch life, one unique aspect of which is the Netherlands’ relationship to its colonies in Indonesia. The East Indies played an important role in the Dutch economy. The Van Lowe children grew up in Java, and the family still has agricultural interests on the island. In this novel, the adjective “Indian” is used to describe anyone or anything from Java. Couperus’s writing also exhibits a sensibility that’s more Northern than Western European. There’s an understated yet authentic psychological sensitivity here that reads more like the writings of Scandinavian authors such as Knut Hamsun, Jens Peter Jacobsen, and Henrik Ibsen than that of English or French novelists.

Much like Galsworthy’s Forsytes, the difficult aspect of reading Small Souls is just getting a grasp on the huge roster of Van Lowes. One really needs to chart out a family tree to keep them all straight. Since I couldn’t find hardly any information on this novel online, I’ve done that for you (image attached below). As a member of a large family myself, I found Couperus’s depiction of brother-sister, parent-child, and husband-wife relationships quite authentic and insightful. As the first novel in a tetralogy, much of Small Souls is spent introducing us to this clan, thus setting the stage for further developments in the subsequent novels. I found myself thoroughly engaged in the Van Lowe family dynamics, enough to make we want to follow their fortunes through the next three books: The Later Life, Twilight of the Souls, and Dr. Adriaan.

Van Lowe family tree (click to enlarge)

Footsteps of Fate by Louis Couperus

Dutch treat

Louis Couperus (1863-1923) was a Dutch novelist and poet who enjoyed some international success in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. His novel Footsteps of Fate (Dutch title: Noodlot) was published in 1890. According to literary critic Edmund Gosse, who wrote the introduction to the first English translation of the novel, Couperus was a member of the Dutch Sensitivists school (a term I’ve never seen anywhere else, so maybe Gosse invented it). As far as I can tell from Gosse, this sounds like a literary school that was inspired by French Naturalism but didn’t want to admit that it was inspired by French Naturalism. Judging by Footsteps of Fate, Couperus writes in accord with the same philosophy of fatalism and heredity as the Naturalists, as exemplified by the novels of Emile Zola, but he stops short of the more blatantly coarse, vulgar, and offensive scenes and subject matter in the writings of Zola or even Balzac. The Sensitivists were also admirers of Joris-Karl Huysmans, a Zola protégé of Dutch ancestry.

Frank Westhove is a Dutch expatriate living in London. There are a few brief mentions of his background as an engineer, but at the time the story opens he seems to be living the life of an independently wealthy English gentleman, i.e. not working at all. One cold winter night he is approached by a shabby vagrant who turns out to be an old chum of his, Bertie van Maeren. Bertie had been to America, experienced some career failures and hard times, and was now homeless and almost penniless. He asks Frank for some assistance, and with a generous what-are-friends-for attitude, Frank invites Bertie into his home and promises to support him financially until he can get back on his feet. This turns into an extended roommate situation in which Frank and Bertie live the lives of well-to-do gentleman, financed entirely by Frank, who doesn’t seem to mind one bit. While the two are off on a trip to Norway, they meet some fellow Londoners, Sir Archibald Rhodes and his daughter Eva. The travelers get to know one another, and Frank, not surprisingly, falls in love with Eva. Rather than being happy for his friend, this relationship brings out the worst in Bertie, who fears that a union between Frank and Eva will rob him of his meal ticket and put him back out on the streets. 

One doesn’t learn much about Dutch life or literature from Footsteps of Fate. It reads very much like an English novel of the Victorian Era. It has a gentility about it that one doesn’t often find in the works of Naturalist literature, but nevertheless the fundamental elements of Naturalism are present: the faithfulness to realism and the assertion that much of mankind’s behavior is molded by social and hereditary forces and therefore out of one’s control. Some aspects of the story come across as unrealistic—most notably Frank’s limitless generosity and Eva’s exaggerated frailties—but one must keep in mind that what seems realistic in the 21st century differs from what would have seemed realistic to the Victorian readers of 1890. Bertie, however, rings true as a timeless archetypal example of the mooching houseguest. Footsteps of Fate starts out in a deceptively decorous and sober manner, but to Couperus’s credit, the book snowballs surprisingly into full-on unsparing Naturalism. Couperus fools you into a false sense of comfort and complacency before hitting you with the hard stuff towards the end.

I’m a fan of Naturalist literature in the vein of Zola or Frank Norris. This was my first experience with Couperus, and I enjoyed this book quite a bit. The characters are memorable, the situations believable, and the plot served up its fair share of surprises. I will definitely seek out more of Couperus’s novels in the future.