Introduction

Maria Konopnicka, née Wasiłowska, was born in Suwałki, Poland (which was then part of the Russian Empire), in 1842 and died in what is now Lviv, Ukraine, in 1910. She was one of the most prominent poets of the Positivist era in Poland, but she also wrote prose fiction for adults and literature for children. As Jerzy Krzyżanowski states, “Her short stories, considered among the best in Polish literature, are well-focused, tense in composition, and often dramatic.”1 She was also a critic, journalist, and activist for women's rights and national independence. Her concern for the plight of peasants, workers, and Polish Jews was a common theme of her works.Konopnicka had six children with Jarosław Konopnicki, but the marriage was not a happy one. She left him, taking the children with her, in an unofficial separation, and moved to Warsaw in 1878 to pursue her writing. In 1882, she traveled to Austria and Italy. In 1886, she met the artist Maria Dulębianka, with whom she lived for twenty years. Konopnicka left Warsaw in 1892 and traveled extensively with Dulębianka within and outside of the former territory of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.2The primary concept of Positivism in Poland was the idea of organic work. Disillusioned by the failure of two Polish uprisings against Russian domination in 1830 and 1863, and confronted with increasingly oppressive policies after the latter uprising, the Positivists rejected the Messianic dream of the Romantics and urged Poles to work organically for the growth of society. As is evident in this story, a corollary to this philosophy is that everyone in the territory of what had been the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, regardless of their social status, religion, or ethnicity, should work together toward society's improvement.“Mendel Gdański” was written during a period of rising antisemitism in Poland. Eliza Orzeszkowa, prominent novelist and longtime friend, urged Konopnicka to make a stand, and this story is the result. It was published in Przegląd Literacki in 1890. There are several versions of the story extant, with various omissions probably caused by trying to avoid censorship. The translation here is based on the version printed in Konopnicka's complete works, published in 1960.During Konopnicka's lifetime, Warsaw was occupied by the Russian Empire, and so her work was subject to the Russian censorship. This is an important fact to consider in reading “Mendel Gdański.” One will notice that Mendel's city is constantly referenced in the text, but it is never named. Presumably, Konopnicka chose Mendel's last name to mislead the censors to think that she was writing about Gdańsk, but there are clues in the story to suggest that in fact the action takes place in Warsaw. Gdańsk, at the time of her writing was under Prussian occupation, not Russian. The word gdański literally means “of Gdańsk,” and indeed an abridged translation of the story by Harold Segel translates the title as “Mendel of Gdańsk.”3 However, this translation is misleading. Gdański is meant to be a surname, not a place of origin. In the course of the story, Mendel alludes to his last name as being Gdański like Gdańsk vodka. This is an allusion to the most famous work of Polish literature, Adam Mickiewicz's Pan Tadeusz (1834). In other words, Mendel is claiming to be a true Polish patriot, and not a “foreign element” or an unwelcome stranger. The story makes clear the author's sympathy for Mendel and makes the case that the Jews are as much a part of Polish society as anyone else. However, the story is bittersweet because the rioters who attack the Jews in Mendel's city are clearly Poles, and the story ends with Mendel declaring the death of his former belief in Poland, in the city, and that he belongs here.There are several subtleties in this story which relate to the position of Poland during the era of partitions (1795–1918). Poland as a state did not exist. The various parts of the former Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth were occupied by three powers, Russia, Prussia, and Austria. Still, the concept of Poland did not die. Although Warsaw, Gdańsk, and Kraków were ruled by three separate foreign powers, all three cities would be considered part of Poland in the souls of patriots. This helps to explain the rather enigmatic passage in which Mendel accuses the watchmaker of being “generous” in his willingness to give Gdańsk away.