Leisurely Pace in Norway of 1895
A scene of Olaf Tryggvessens Gate from 1906 showing street life at that time.
Image from the Trondhjem Postcard Collection of the Gjenvick-Gjønvik Archives
The People There Take Their Time at Everything
Americans Are a Source of Wonderment to the Slow-Going Natives - An Exceedingly Courteous and Hospitable People
These Norwegians are a wonderfully patient people, says a correspondent of the New York Post. They never hurry; why should they? There is always time enough.
We breakfast at nine. Monsieur guest to business at ten or so and returns to his dinner, like all the rest of the Scandinavian world, at half-past two. We reach coffee and cigarettes at about four, and then Monsieur goes back to his office, if he likes, for two or three hours.
We sometimes see him again at supper at half-past eight, but usually there is a game of whist, or a geographical society lecture, or a concert, or a friend's birthday fete (an occasion never overlooked by your true Norwegian), or some one has received a barrel of oysters, and would not, could not, dream of opening them without champagne and company - masculine company only.
It seems to me that there are entirely too many purely male festivities here. In fact the men say so themselves, and that they would enjoy many of the occasions much more if the ladies were present. But "it is not the custom of the country" (a rock on which I am always foundering) to omit or to change in such matters. Monsieur only does as do all other men of his age, which is elderly, and condition, which is solid.
I have never accustomed myself to the fact that one is expected to stop and wait for all approaching carts or vehicles of any class to pass before attempting to cross a street in town. I am always being stopped short on the curbstone by a frantic pull at my arm, and some strange but agonized friendly voice at my side begging to know if I don't see that sledge coming, a sledge half a block off! Perhaps it is because the street traffic is comparatively small that the vehicles always have the right of way. And certainly, too, because there is so much time. You need not fancy that the driver will hasten the jog of his stock little yellow pony, when he sees you waiting. Nothing for the soft. That is it has been. It is quite meet that you wait.
Depiction of Life in America in Norwegian Newspapers
There is a curious feeling concerning America over here, in one way and another. Morgenbladet, the chief conservative paper, an organ locally of the first importance, keeps a sort of horror chamber of Americana. The reason is I suppose, that in these very dark and troublous political times, when not only the union, but the monarchy itself, is threatened and teetering, the conservative interest thinks it dangerous to allow any virtue to appear in a republic, and especially in ours, the most flourishing and therefore the most pernicious example of that invention of evil bred.
Day after day they seem to rifle the cable dispatches for dreadful tales of failures, crime and disaster, but if a word of good or neutral import appears it is only because it is too important to be overlooked; it is very briefly expressed and usually gloomily commented upon.
I have often thought, in reading over these dismal matters, that our papers furnish us with far too much of such material on a large scale to make it necessary for a hostile foreign press to betake itself, as Morgenbladet often does, to accounts of obscure barber shop affrays when it wishes to represent the true inwardness of American daily life.
One result of the persistent inculcation of this doctrine is that I have met several most cultivated gentlemen who are remarkably versed in the ways and manners of Tammany hall, but whose study of America otherwise has convinced them that it is a common custom among men of the better classes in New York to wear pistols in their belts whenever they go into the streets.
Although so many Norwegians have emigrated to America and are loyal and prosperous in their adopted country, I should say that the general mental attitude towards American of the solid population here is one of distrust. They are an exceedingly hospitable and courteous people, and they are glad to make you truly welcome and to like you. But if you win their esteem, as you will if you deserve it, and are well bred, it will not be as an American representative of America, but as a white crow.
On the whole, when impressions have had a time to formulate themselves one feels that America is here regarded as the land of inflation; of pinchbeck and meretricious manufactures, untrustworthy stuffs, doctors made in a minute, soulless hurry for wealth, disregard for mental and spiritual pleasures and ends of raptness in the pursuit and worship of the dollar; the country where wealth is more than principle, mind or breeding, and where vulgar thirst for titles remains, other ambition having been gratified.
It made me rather indignant when one of the boys came home from school the other day with the news that one of his masters had been asserting as a recognized fact that every American girl of fortune is provided with a list of the eligible titles of Europe with notes regarding their several merits and demerits, and that she learns it is a part of her regular business. Yet it is too plainly to be seen whence such ideas arise! One cannot, in the face of the facts, contradict them as handsomely as one longs to do.
Source: The Evening Bulletin October 10, 1895, Decatur, Illinois, Page 8, Column 1
