The Timeless Tale of “Place Matters”: A Modern Dive into Hans Christian Andersen’s Classic

In a world where societal structures and the essence of nobility are constantly being redefined, Hans Christian Andersen’s “Everything in its Right Place” offers timeless wisdom. Let’s embark on a journey to explore the rich narrative, the societal critiques it offers, and the world from which it emerged.

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EVERYTHING IN ITS RIGHT PLACE.

More than a hundred years ago, behind the wood, and by a deep lake, stood an old baronial mansion. Round it lay a deep moat, in which grew reeds and rushes, and close by the bridge, near the entrance-gate, stood an old willow-tree, that bent itself over the moat.

From a narrow pass, one day sounded the clang of horns and the trampling of horses, therefore the little girl who kept the geese hastened to drive them away from the bridge, before the hunting party came galloping up to it. They came, however, with such haste that the girl was obliged to climb up and seat herself on the parapet of the bridge, lest they should ride over her. She was scarcely more than a child, with a pretty delicate figure, a gentle expression of face, and two bright, blue eyes, all of which the baron noticed; but as he galloped past the little goose-watcher, he reversed the whip he held in his hand, and in rough play gave her such a push with the butt-end that she fell backward into the ditch. “Everything in its right place” cried he; “into the puddle with you,” and then he laughed aloud at what he called his own wit, and the rest joined their voices with his. The whole party shouted and screamed, and the dogs barked loudly.

In falling, the poor girl fortunately caught hold of one of the overhanging branches of the willow-tree, by which she was able to keep herself suspended over the muddy pool; and as soon as the baron, with his company and dogs, had disappeared through the castle gate, she tried to raise herself up by her own exertions, but the bough broke off at the top, and she would have fallen backwards among the reeds if a strong hand had not at the same moment seized her from above. It was the hand of a pedler, who, at a short distance, had witnessed the whole affair, and hastened up to give assistance. “Everything in its right place,” he said, imitating the noble baron, as he drew the little maiden up on dry ground.

He would have restored the broken bough to the place from which it had been broken off, but “everything in the right place” is not always so easy to arrange, so he stuck the bough in the soft earth. “Grow and thrive as much as you can,” said he, “till you produce a good flute for some of them over there. With the permission of the noble baron and his family I should like them to hear my challenge.” So he betook himself to the castle, but not into the noble hall, he was too humble for that. He went to the servants’ apartments, and the men and maids examined and turned over his stock of goods, while from above, where the company were at table, came sounds of screaming and shouting which they called singing, and perhaps they did their best. Loud laughter, mingled with the howling of dogs, sounded through the open windows.

All were feasting and carousing. Wine and strong ale foamed in the jugs and glasses; even the dogs ate and drank with their masters. The pedler was sent for, but only to make fun for them. The wine had mounted to their heads, and the sense had flown out. They poured wine into a stocking for him to drink with them, quickly of course, and this was considered very witty, and occasioned fresh bursts of laughter. And then at cards, whole farms with their stock of peasants and cattle, were staked on a card and lost. “Everything in its right place,” said the pedler, when he at last escaped from what he called Sodom and Gomorrah. “The open high-road is my right place; that house did not suit me at all.” And as he stepped along, he saw the little maiden keeping watch over the geese, and she nodded at him in a friendly way.

Days and weeks passed, and it soon became evident that the willow-branch which had been stuck in the ground by the pedler near to the castle moat, had taken root, for it remained fresh and green, and put forth new twigs.

The little girl saw that the branch must have taken root, and she was quite joyful about it. “This tree,” she said, “must be my tree now.”

The tree certainly came forward and flourished; but at the castle, what with feasting and gambling, everything went backward to ruin: for these two things are like rollers upon which no man can possibly stand securely. Six years had not passed away before the noble baron became a poor man, and wandered out of the castle gate, and the mansion was bought by a rich purchaser; and this purchaser was no other than the man of whom he had made fun and laughed at, and for whom he had poured wine into a stocking to drink. But honesty and industry are like favourable winds to a ship, and they had brought the pedler to be master of the baron’s estates. Froin that hour no more card playing was ever permitted there.

“They are bad things to read,” said he. “When the wicked spirit saw a Bible for the first time, he wanted to place a bad picture against it, so he invented card playing.”

The new proprietor took to himself a wife, and who should it be but the little goose-watcher, who had always remained pious and good, and looked as beautiful and fine in her new clothes as if she had been a highly-born lady. It would be too long a story in this busy time to explain how all this came about; but it really did happen, and the most important part is to come. It was pleasant to live in the old court now. The mistress herself managed the housekeeping within, and the master superintended the estate, and their home overflowed with blessings. Where rectitude leads the way, prosperity is sure to follow. The old house was cleaned and painted, the moat dried up, and fruit trees planted in it. The floors of the house were as polished as a draught-board, and everything looked bright and cheerful.

During the long winter evenings, the lady of the house sat with her maidens at the spinning-wheel in the great hall. Her husband had been made a magistrate: this honour he had obtained in his old age. Every Sunday evening he read the Bible with his family, for children had come, and were all instructed in the best manner, although they were not all equally clever, as is the case in all families. In the meantime, the willow-branch at the castle gate had grown quite a splendid tree, and stood there free and unrestrained.

“That is our genealogical tree,” said the old people, “and the tree must therefore be honoured and esteemed, even by those who are not very wise.”

A hundred years passed away, and the place presented a very different aspect. The lake had been converted into moorland, and the old baronial castle had almost disappeared. A pool of water, the deep moat, and the ruins of some of the walls, were all that remained. Close by grew a magnificent willow-tree, with over-hanging branches—the same genealogical tree of old times. Here it still stood, showing to what beauty a willow can attain when left to itself. The trunk was certainly split through, from the root to the top, and the storm had slightly bent it; but it stood firm through all, and from every crevice and opening into which earth had been carried by the wind, shot forth blossoms and flowers.

Near the top, where the large boughs parted, the wild raspberry twined its branches, and hung down like a hanging garden. Even the little mistletoe had here struck root, and flourished, graceful and delicate, among the branches of the willow, which were reflected in the dark waters beneath it; while the wind from the sea sometimes scattered its leaves. A path led through the field close by the tree.

On the top of a hill, near the forest, with a splendid prospect before it, stood the new baronial hall, with panes of such transparent glass in the windows, that there appeared to be none. The grand flight of steps leading to the entrance looked like a bower of roses and broad-leaved plants. The lawn was as fresh and green as if each separate blade of grass were cleaned morning and evening. In the hall hung costly pictures. The chairs and sofas were of silk and velvet, that looked as if they could move of themselves; there were tables with white marble tops, and books bound in velvet and gold. Here, indeed, resided wealthy people, people of rank—the new baron and his family.

Each article was made to correspond. The family motto was still, “Everything in its right place;” and therefore the pictures which were once the honour and glory of the old house, now hung in the passage leading to the servants’ hall. They were considered as lumber, especially two old portraits, one of a man in a wig and a rose-coloured coat, the other representing a lady with frizzed and powdered hair, holding a rose in her hand, each in the same manner surrounded by a wreath of willow-leaves. Both the pictures had many holes in them, for the little barons always set up the two old people as targets for their bows and arrows, and yet these were pictures of the magistrate and his lady from whom the present family were descended.

“But they did not properly belong to our family,” said one of the little barons, “he was a pedler, and she kept the geese. They were not like papa and mamma.” So the pictures being old were considered worthless, and the motto being “All in the right place,” the great-grandfather and the great-grandmother of the family were sent into the passage leading to the servants’ hall.

The son of the clergyman of the place was tutor at the great house. One day he was out waiking with his pupils, the little barons, and their eldest sister who had just been confirmed. They took the path through the fields which led past the old willow-tree; and while they walked the young lady made a wreath of hedge-blossoms and wild-flowers, “each in its right place,” and the wreath was, as a whole, very pretty. At the same time, she heard every word uttered by the son of the clergyman. She liked very much to hear him talk of the wonders of nature, and of the great men and women in history. She had a healthy tone of mind, with nobility of thought and feeling, and a heart full of love for all God’s creation. The walking party halted at the old willow-tree; the youngest of the barons wanted a branch from it to make a flute, as he had already from other willows.

So the tutor broke off a branch. ““Oh, don’t do that,” exclaimed the young baroness; but it was already done. “I am so sorry,” she continued; “that is our famous old tree, and I love it very much; they laugh at me for it at home, but I don’t mind. There is a story told about that tree.” And then she told him what we already know about the old castle, and the pedler and the little girl with the geese, who had met at this spot for the first time, and were the ancestors of the noble family to which the young baroness belonged. “The good old folks would not be ennobled,” said she; “their motto was ‘Everything in the right place,’ and they thought it would not be right for them to purchase a title with money.

My grandfather, the first baron, was their son. He was a very learned man, known and appreciated by princes and princesses, and was present at all the festivals at court. At home, they all love him best; but I scarcely know why. There seems to me something in the first old pair that draws my heart towards them. How sociable, how patriarchal it must have been in the old house, where the mistress sat at the spinning-wheel with her maids, while her husband read aloud to them from the Bible!”

“They must have been charming, sensible people,” said the tutor. And then the conversation turned upon nobles and commoners. It was almost as if the tutor did not belong to an inferior class. He spoke so wisely upon the purpose and intention of nobility. “It is certainly good fortune to belong to a family that has distinguished itself in the world, and to inherit the energy which spurs us on to progress in everything noble and useful. It is pleasant to bear a family name, which is like a card of admission to the highest circles. True nobility is always great and honourable. It is a coin which has received the impression of its own value. It is a mistake of the present day, into which many poets have fallen, to affirm that all who are noble by birth must therefore be wicked or foolish, and that the lower we descend in society, we find more frequently among the poor great and shining characters.

This, however, is not my opinion; I feel that it is quite false. In the higher classes can be found men and women possessing kindly and beautiful traits of disposition. My mother told me of one, and I could relate to you many more. She was once on a visit to a nobleman’s house in the town; my grandmother, I believe, had been brought up in the family, as a child. One day, while alone with the nobleman in a room, an old woman came limping into the court on crutches. She was accustomed to come every Sunday, and always carried away a gift with her. “Ah, there is the poor old woman,’ said the nobleman; what pain it is for her to walk!’ and before my mother understood what he said, he had left the room, and ran downstairs to the old woman; and the old nobleman, of seventy years himself, carried her the gift she had come for, to spare her the pain of walking any farther. This is only a trifling circumstance; but, like the two mites given by the widow in the Bible, it awakens responsive echoes in the heart of man, when attured to sympathy and pity.

These are subjects of which poets should write and sing, for they soften and unite mankind into one brotherhood. But when a mere sprig of humanity, because it has noble ancestors of good blood, rears up and prances like an Arabian horse in the street, or speaks contemptibly of an apartment in which common people have been received; then it is nobility in danger of decay—a mere pretence, like the mask which Thespis invented; and people are glad to see such persons turned into objects of satire.”

This was the tutor’s speech, certainly rather a long one; but he had been busily engaged cutting the flute while he talked.

At the castle one day, a great company were assembled. Many of the guests came from the surrounding neighbourhood, and from the capital. Some of the ladies were dressed very tastefully, and others without any taste at all; and the great hall was quite full of people. The clergymen of the neighbourhood stood respectfully together in a corner of the room, and looked as if they were preparing for a funeral. This was, however, a party of pleasure, waiting for the amusements to commence. A great concert was about to take place, both vocal and instrumental; and the selections, being of the best kind, were likely to delight every one. The little baron brought his flute with him, but he could not produce a single note upon it, neither could his papa; therefore the flute seemed useless.

“You are a performer, I presume,” said a young cavalier to the tutor; “if you can play upon a flute as well as make it, you must be a genius, and deserve a place of honour.”

“No, indeed,” he replied; “I only keep pace with the times, as every one must in these days.”

“But you will entertain us with a performance on the curious little instrument, will you not?” he replied, handing to the tutor as he spoke the flute which he had cut from the willow-tree by the pool; and then he announced aloud that the tutor was about to perform a solo on the flute. Now it could easily be seen that they only wanted to make fun of him, and therefore the tutor would not play, although he could play very well; but they crowded round him, and so urged him, that at last he took the flute and placed it to his lips. What a wonderful flute it was! As he blew, there went forth a sustained sound like the whistle of a steam engine, which echoed far and wide over the courtyard gardens, and wood, and miles away into the country; and, at the same moment, like a roaring, rushing wind, sounded the words, “Everything in its right place.”

What changes followed! The baron was carried away by the wind, straight from the hall into the shepherd’s cot; and the shepherd flew, not into the hall, which was not his right place, but into the servants’ apartments, among the smart footmen, who were strutting about in their silk stockings; and these proud dependants were horrorstruck at the thought of such a person daring to sit down to table with them. But in the hall, the young baroness flew up to the place of honour, at the head of the table, which was really her right place, and the clergyman’s son found himself placed near her; and there the two sat as if they were a bridal pair. An old count, of one of the most ancient families in the country, remained untouched in the place of honour, for the wonderful flute acted with perfect justice, as man ought to act always.

The witty cavalier, who had been the cause of the flute-playing, and who could only boast of being his father’s son, flew head over heels into the hen-house; but this was not all. For a whole mile round the sounds of the flute were heard, and strange events happened. A rich banker and his family, who were driving in a carriage and four, were blown quite out of the carriage, and could not even find a place behind it with their footman. Two rich farmers, who had become too proud even to notice their own corn-fields, were tumbled into the ditch. Truly it was a dangerous flute; luckily, however, it burst with the first note, and was put back into the owner’s pocket, which was a good thing, and “its right place.” From this has arisen the saying, “pocketing the flute.”

The next day not a word was said of what had happened. Everything was in its usual order, excepting that the two old pictures of the pedler and the goose-tender now hung in the banqueting hall: they had been blown on to the wall the evening before. A real connoisseur said that these portraits had been painted by a master’s hand; so they were restored, and allowed to remain where they hung.

“Everything in the right place.” It all came to that at last; and so we shall find our right places in eternity, whatever they may be now; as related in this story.

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The Modern Retelling of Everything In Its Right Place

Below is a modern retelling of the Hans Christian Andersen classic, Everything In Its Right Place, translated in 1888 and reworked to provide modern context for today’s audiences. What do you think of the tale?

Place Matters:

Picture this: Over a century ago, amidst untouched nature, stood an elegant mansion by a serene lake. This mansion wasn’t just any home; it was a symbol of prestige and the societal hierarchy of its time.

One day, as the sun cast long shadows on the ground, a hunting party was making its way back. Leading this entourage was a baron, known for his wealth and the arrogance that often accompanies such privilege. As they approached the mansion, a young girl, carefree and innocent, was herding her geese near the entrance. Realizing the impending danger of the galloping horses, she tried to move her geese away, but time was not on her side. In her attempt to escape, she clambered onto the bridge’s side, her heart racing.

The baron, spotting her, couldn’t resist a mischievous act. With a smirk, he playfully nudged her with his whip’s handle. The girl, caught off guard, tumbled into the moat. The water splashed, and her startled geese fluttered and honked. Laughing heartily, the baron taunted, “Stay in your lane!” The party laughed along, their laughter echoing, symbolizing the disdain the elite often held for those they deemed beneath them.

However, as the seasons changed, so did the wheel of fortune. A street vendor, once a mere spectator to the baron’s antics, rose through life with his hard work and determination. As fate would have it, the once-mighty baron faced financial ruin, and his cherished mansion slipped from his grasp. The vendor, seizing the opportunity, bought the mansion, turning the tables in a twist of poetic justice.

The vendor’s heart had room for love, and he soon married the former goose girl. Together, they transformed the mansion into a home, a place where love, respect, and humility reigned supreme. Their life story was a testament to the fact that true nobility isn’t just in one’s lineage but in one’s actions and character.

This modern retelling of Andersen’s tale serves as a poignant reminder that while times change, certain truths remain eternal. In our world of skyscrapers and digital revolutions, the essence of human nature, with its virtues and vices, remains unchanged.

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Delving into the Language & Culture of Andersen’s Time:

Hans Christian Andersen’s tales are more than just stories; they’re linguistic masterpieces. The intricate descriptions and evocative language of “Everything in its Right Place” paint a vivid picture of the era. Andersen’s choice of words, from the “old baronial mansion” to the “genealogical tree,” immerses readers in a bygone age, reflecting the societal norms and values of the 19th century.

Moreover, his portrayal of characters, from the arrogant baron to the humble goose girl, is not merely superficial. Through their actions and interactions, Andersen critiques societal structures, highlighting the transient nature of wealth and the permanence of character.

Class and Nobility in 19th Century Denmark:

The 19th century in Denmark was a time of great change. The country underwent significant transformations, both socially and politically. The societal structure was rigid, with clear demarcations between the nobility and the commoners. The nobility, often born into wealth and privilege, enjoyed significant advantages, from owning vast estates to wielding political power. Commoners, on the other hand, had limited rights and opportunities.

However, as Andersen’s story illustrates, this clear divide was not without its cracks. The tale challenges the notion that nobility is merely a birthright. It suggests that true nobility comes from one’s actions, character, and integrity. The rise of the street vendor and the fall of the baron symbolize the shifting sands of societal structures and the idea that true worth is not determined by birth but by deeds.

The “Right Place” Motif:

The recurring motif of “Everything in its Right Place” is a sharp commentary on societal roles and expectations. Throughout the story, characters find themselves in situations that challenge their perceived roles. The baron, despite his noble birth, faces financial ruin, while the street vendor, a commoner, rises to prominence.

This motif underscores the unpredictability of life and the idea that societal roles are not set in stone. It also emphasizes the idea of justice and the eventual triumph of good over evil. In a society that often placed undue importance on birthright and lineage, Andersen’s tale is a reminder that everyone, regardless of their background, has a rightful place in the world, defined by their actions and character.

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The Man Behind the Tale:

Hans Christian Andersen wasn’t merely a writer; he was an institution. Born in 1805 in Odense, Denmark, Andersen’s beginnings were humble. Growing up in a poor family, his early life was filled with hardships. Yet, the fires of adversity only honed his passion for storytelling. From penning his first story at the tender age of 17 to becoming Denmark’s literary icon, Andersen’s journey was nothing short of extraordinary.

His tales, though often categorized as children’s literature, transcend age. Embedded within the layers of fantasy and imagination are profound insights into human nature, societal norms, and the complexities of life. Andersen had a unique ability to weave intricate emotions, from love and hope to despair and melancholy, into his stories, making them resonate with readers of all ages.

The World He Lived In:

To truly appreciate Andersen’s tales, one must understand the era in which he lived. The 19th century in Europe was a period of significant transition. The winds of the Industrial Revolution were reshaping societies, leading to urbanization and a shift in traditional lifestyles. While technology and industry boomed, there was also a parallel rise in romanticism, a movement that celebrated emotions, nature, and individualism.

Denmark, too, was undergoing its metamorphosis. From political upheavals to cultural shifts, the country was at the crossroads of tradition and modernity. Andersen’s writings, thus, are a reflection of this dynamic era. His tales, while rooted in fantasy, often drew from the realities of his time, providing commentary on societal structures, class distinctions, and human nature.

Amidst this backdrop, Andersen traveled extensively, drawing inspiration from his journeys. He mingled with the elite, counted celebrated authors like Charles Dickens as his friends, and yet, never lost touch with his roots. This duality, of being a part of the elite yet retaining the perspective of an outsider, enriched his tales, giving them depth and universality.

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Bringing the Tale to Modern Readers:

In an age characterized by rapid technological advances, globalization, and the blurring of societal boundaries, Andersen’s “Everything in its Right Place” remains strikingly relevant. Our modern world, much like the 19th-century setting of the story, grapples with issues of status, class, and the true meaning of success.

Today, social media platforms provide everyone a stage, leading to a democratization of fame. However, it also amplifies societal pressures to fit into certain molds or to chase after often superficial markers of success. Andersen’s tale serves as a poignant reminder that true value isn’t determined by societal validation but by one’s character, actions, and authenticity.

Moreover, in a world increasingly divided by political ideologies, wealth disparities, and cultural differences, the story underscores the importance of humility, understanding, and empathy. Just as the baron and the street vendor experienced the unpredictable twists of fate, our modern lives, too, are filled with uncertainties. Andersen’s narrative encourages readers to remain grounded, cherish genuine human connections, and understand that every individual has their unique “right place” in the world.

A Tale for All Ages:

While Andersen’s story is often categorized as a fairy tale, its themes resonate deeply with adults. The narrative touches upon universal human experiences – the quest for identity, the fleeting nature of wealth, and the age-old struggle between pride and humility. Parents reading the tale to their children can use it as a conversation starter, discussing its deeper meanings and real-world applications.

For the younger generation, especially those growing up in the digital age, the story provides a counter-narrative to the often shallow and appearance-focused values promoted by popular culture. It encourages them to seek deeper, more meaningful definitions of success and self-worth.

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Quotable Quotes:

“Stay in your lane!” – At first glance, this quote from the tale might seem like a simple jest made by the baron. However, on deeper reflection, it encapsulates the story’s central theme. In a world where individuals are often judged by their status, wealth, or appearance, this phrase serves as a potent reminder. Each individual, regardless of their background, has a unique journey and purpose. Rather than being a call for conformity, it emphasizes the importance of authenticity, self-awareness, and the recognition that every individual has their own path to tread.

In a narrative interwoven with themes of class, destiny, and the intrinsic value of a person, Hans Christian Andersen’s “Everything in its Right Place” offers readers a mirror to society and, more importantly, to themselves. While set in a different era, the tale’s messages are timeless, urging us to reflect on what truly matters in life. Beyond societal labels and transient wealth, it’s our character, actions, and the legacy we leave behind that define our “right place” in the world. As we navigate the complexities of the modern age, Andersen’s wisdom serves as a guiding light, reminding us to remain true to ourselves and recognize the inherent worth in every individual.