Before World War I, Ruritania was a small German kingdom, reached by train from Dresden. Its capital was Strelsau, and Strelsau Cathedral is known for the finest oak doors in Europe. Otherwise there is not much to notice here; it is utterly typical of its area. Ruritania represents a particular and unusual sort of place in this alphabet of Mythical and Imaginary Places, and that is because it contains no magic whatsoever. Indeed, these sorts of places pride themselves on being as “realistic” as possible. Of course, theoretically every fictional place ever invented could fit into this category, from St. Mary Mead and Middlemarch in England to Avonlea, Prince Edward Island; Mayberry, North Carolina; and numerous Springfields throughout the USA. Any time an author wants a fictional setting they slip something plausible-sounding into the map of the world. Ruritania, however, despite its lack of magic, is a little something more. Although it aims to sound plausibly realistic, it turns out to hold more-than-usual romance and adventure.
Ruritania is the setting of The Prisoner of Zenda written by Anthony Hope in 1894, and in this small kingdom there is political intrigue, mistaken identity, a dashing villain, a beautiful princess, imprisonment and rescue, swordfighting, sacrifices, and much melodrama. Hope was certainly not the first to invent such a country, but so popular was his book that it spawned an entire genre of romances and adventures set in small, fictional European countries, often placed in Eastern Europe or the Balkans where your average English or western-European reader knew there were lots of little, sometimes-unstable states, but was a little hazy about the exact geography and genealogy anyway.
Enid Blyton brought a prince from Baronia to her books, while Warner Bros. indulged in mistaken identity with the king of Carpania in “The Great Race.” Marilyn Monroe wins the heart of the prince of Carpathia in “The Prince and the Showgirl,” and Groucho Marx rules Freedonia in “Duck Soup.” Alfred Hitchcock found intrigue in Bandrika in “The Lady Vanishes,” and “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is located in Zubrowka. Ruritania also inspired “Get Smart”s Coronia, The Mouse that Roared’s Grand Fenwick, Lutha from Edgar Rice Burroughs, and Laurania in a novel by Winston Churchhill, among dozens (if not hundreds) of others.
The influence of Ruritania is far from over, and a recent crop of these pocket kingdoms has proliferated in, among other things, YA novels and movies The Princess Diaries featuring Genovia, and quite a few silly made-for-streaming movies, including two I watched on Netflix with my daughter: “A Christmas Prince” featuring Aldovia, and “The Princess Switch” featuring Belgravia.
There is sometimes an element of condescension in how these countries have been imagined and portrayed. They are small and obscure, and they tend to be old-fashioned. That old-fashioned quality sometimes equals ignorance and backwardness. On the other hand, sometimes these “chocolate box” kingdoms are more like dreams-come-true, where the old-fashioned-ness is charming, and the country is a wonderland where you leave behind your boring, mundane, modern life and find adventure, romance, and wish-fulfillment.
The MORAL of Ruritania: Whether you’re a person or a nation, there are advantages to flying under the radar of the superpowers.
OR: Never be deterred by the odds.
So, next time you’re on vacation and are unexpectedly discovered to be the look-alike of a prince or princess, will you take the challenge and play the role?
[Pictures: Cover of “The Prisoner of Zenda” board game by Parker Brothers, 1896 (Image from History Today);
The Castle of Zenda, and Strelsau as seen from the train, illustrations by Donald Spencer, 1966 (Images from The Prisoner of Zenda, Heritage Press edition);
Map of Ruritania, by James Cook from The Dictionary of Imaginary Places by A. Manguel and G. Guadalupi, 1987;
I admit to being drawn into the Princess Diaries and other such YA novels and movies. I never thought much about the fictional places they depict but agree with your assessment that it can go either way and be portrayed as backwards or charmingly old fashioned. Weekends In Maine
ReplyDeleteIn the operetta The Merry Widow by Franz Lehar, the hero represents some tiny, imaginary Balkan country. The operetta premiered in Vienna in 1905 and was hugely successful. There have been countless adaptations all around the western world since, including a couple movies and a ballet.
ReplyDeleteWikipedia said: "It was eventually produced in every city with a theater industry... estimates that The Merry Widow was performed about half a million times in its first sixty years."
The funny thing is that many versions had their own name for the Balkan country featuring in this light and fluffy operatic gem. The original name was Pontevedro (based loosely on Montenegro). In the English-language version, it was renamed as Marsovia.
I have heard of Ruritania, but have never read the novel. I am not sure I'd be up to playing along as a look-alike!
ReplyDeleteYour post and the Netflix map has me wanting to create my own map of small fictional European countries made up by me. I'd be happy to accept the role of playing my look-alike, as long as it involved fabulous costumes and a happy ending.
ReplyDeleteOlga, I never realized that the name of the Merry Widow's country changes based on the translation. I wonder why that would be.
ReplyDeleteDeborah, I'm sure you'd carry of your impersonation with great flair! I certainly used to make up my own maps all the time, but they were generally entirely fictional, and not supposed to be anywhere real.
I really enjoyed reading your post today. Most delightful. There have been quite a few tv shows set in those small towns. Mayberry, as you said. I loved "Northern Exposure" and there's a new one on netflix called "Mystic River" that I love.
ReplyDeleteMy “R” Tull song of the day is here:
http://tao-talk.com/2021/04/21/a2z-2021-jethro-tull-songs-day-18-reasons-for-waiting-from-stand-up/
As someone who lives in Eastern Europe, I am endlessly entertained by authors who try to cram all their fictional kingdoms into my neighborhood :D
ReplyDeleteThe Multicolored Diary
Ready to pay the role!
ReplyDeleteZalka, I'm sure you get rudely elbowed aside by some authors. On the other hand, it's convenient for you should you ever wish to visit any of these places!
ReplyDeleteWay to step up, Mike! I foresee great adventure in your future!
Love this! I haven't really thought about it and it brings another dimension to writing contemporary settings with a twist of fantasy.
ReplyDeleteRonel visiting for the A-Z Challenge with an A-Z of Faerie: Rabbits and Hares of Folklore
You know, I alwasy wondered, aren't readers (or viewers) able to look up a map and see there is no such realms in Europe? LOL!
ReplyDeleteBut then, some authors use this same 'technique' to create imagined places that don't feel strange at all.
Andrea Camilleri set his stories about Commissario Montalbano in Vigata, a town supposedly in Sicily, but that in realisty doesn't exist. Interestingly enough, he once said he did so because setting these stories in an imagineary place made them more real. It's no secret that Vigata is actually Porto Empedocle, but Camillery said, 'If I set these mysteries in Porto Empedocle, everybody could say I'm mad. No way there are so many murders in Porto Empedocle."