35 pages • 1 hour read
Karen BlixenA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The story emphasizes the need for both physical and spiritual nourishment, which the text defines as intertwined rather than opposed to one another. Karen Blixen proposes that it is not good to focus solely on earthly things, as Loewenhielm tries to do in his youth, nor does it help to reject all the pleasures of life, as do the Brothers and Sisters. At first, physical and spiritual nourishment do seem to be at odds with each other; Papin and Loewenhielm, both of whom have experienced fame, wealth, and the finest Parisian cuisine, conclude that these things are meaningless compared to spiritual purity. The Dean, his daughters, and their community reinforce this belief by avoiding worldly pleasures in the first place, believing that they will lead them astray from God. Notably, both groups lack spiritual fulfilment, showing that the either-or approach to physical versus spiritual nourishment does not lead to happiness.
Babette bridges the two extremes. When she enters the community, the townspeople feel uplifted: “They found that troubles and cares had been conjured away from their existence” (16). She maintains their ascetic lifestyle even better than they do, cooking simple food, keeping an economical household, and allowing the sisters to focus their time and resources on charity. This has a ripple effect in the community, and many folks feel more at ease to concentrate on spiritual matters and forget old quarrels. However, 12 years later, the community’s problems reemerge: Past grudges bubble to the surface and the town loses its spiritual cohesion. The people lead the same humble, prayer-filled lives as the sisters, eating plain fare like a “split-cod and an ale-and-bread soup” (15), but without their spiritual leader, they cannot receive the spiritual nourishment they crave.
All these characters, however, find some succor in the dinner. Even though there is no mention that either the sisters or the townspeople are dissatisfied with their modest lifestyle, Babette’s feast brings them a kind of satisfaction they did not know they were missing. Through experiencing Babette’s food-as-art, they come to grips with their past wrongs and ascend into a “higher and purer sphere” of existence (34). At last, they have received both spiritual and physical nourishment through the talents of the French artist Babette. The narrative describes their transformation as the Bible describes religious miracles: “Taciturn old people received the gift of tongues; ears that for years had been almost deaf were opened to it. Time itself merged into eternity” (38). These transformations were inspired by Loewenhielm’s speech, which states that people mistake grace to be a finite resource. Because the community tries to economize every resource, taking in food and other worldly things in the smallest possible quantities, they inadvertently applied this logic to spiritual concepts as well. Letting go of their narrow lifestyle opened them up to miraculous experiences they were unable to attain on their own.
Religious devotion is evident throughout the story, as it is a constant point of concern for the sisters and their community. Martine and Philippa are forever concerned about whether or not they are behaving uprightly, according to their religious beliefs. For example, when Papin kisses Philippa, she immediately goes to her father and asks him to stop the lessons. Not only is Philippa offended by Papin’s inappropriate actions, but the incident also challenges her deeply held beliefs: After kissing Papin, Philippa “might have been surprised and frightened by something in her own nature” (11). For the sisters, physical passion and religious devotion cannot coexist, and thus, Philippa’s feelings present a paradox that she can only resolve by distancing herself from Papin.
Another paradoxical element related to religious devotion in the story is the exclusionary nature of the Brothers and Sisters’ beliefs. The Dean hesitated to employ Papin because he was a Roman Catholic, and the sisters feel the same way about Babette: They did not like “the idea of receiving a Papist under their roof. But they did not like to worry a hard-tried fellow-creature with catechization” (14). They agree that living by example is the best way to reach Babette spiritually. “Papist” is an outdated, derogatory term used for Catholics; in the 19th and 20th centuries, other Christian denominations believed Catholics worshiped the pope rather than God, which they considered sinful. However, when the sisters learn that Babette cooked for a French priest, they decide to "surpass the French priest in ascetism” (15). This indicates that asceticism is a source of pride for the sisters—even though Puritans consider pride a sin—and they want to outdo someone they perceive as being from an inferior religion.
Similarly, when Martine agrees to the dinner, she begins to see Babette as a pagan or supernatural entity: “[S]he thought of her father and felt that on his very birthday she and his sister were lending his house to a witches’ sabbath” (24). Babette even begins to appear as a witch-like figure herself in Martine’s imagination. In a dream, Martine sees the French maid “poisoning the old Brothers and Sisters, Philippa and herself” (24). She even compares the upcoming dinner to an African cannibal celebration described to her by one of her father’s missionary friends.
Martine’s guilt about these feelings is what inspires the congregation to maintain their composure no matter what strange things they are served. Still, they eat the rich French fare and drink the wine and champagne, which goes against their religious beliefs, and thereby they obtain a new religious experience: “The vain illusions of this earth had dissolved before their eyes like smoke, and they had seen the universe as it really is” (38). Karen Blixen makes it clear that the sisters and the congregation do not have any ill will toward Babette; only despite their religious devotion, they harbor harmful stereotypes, just like anyone else. The fact that they are willing to go through with the dinner—rather than refusing to attend—shows the great rewards one can reap by letting go of prejudices, even those held in the name of one’s spiritual beliefs.
Life as a refugee is a prominent theme from the moment Babette appears on the sisters’ doorstep in June of 1871. In Babette’s case, living as a refugee means discarding her former identity and living in an unfamiliar culture. The French civil war transforms Babette from a celebrated chef into a vulnerable woman without a family, country, or home. She undergoes a harrowing ocean journey from France to Norway, which she describes “as of the most horrible experience in her life” (22). Then, she takes a position as a maid in a poor community in which she does not speak the language. She expresses to the sisters that her only other option, if they choose not to employ her, is death. She does not expect pay or anything but the most basic accommodations.
Being a refugee often means being seen as a permanent “other” in one’s country of residence, and Babette has the same experience. For 12 years, the sisters view Babette with awe and fear. They don’t know what to make of her; she is large, enigmatic, and seems dangerous to them. When she steps forward to insist that she pay for the dinner that she wants to make for their father’s anniversary, they wonder, “Had she stepped forth like this, in 1871, to plant a red flag on a barricade?” (21). She is ambivalent about her past and never talks about her former life. This makes it difficult for the sisters to get to know her on a deep level, and her silence keeps her in the role of the unknowable “other.”
Babette, like many refugees from foreign countries, believes in a different religion from the residents of Berlevaag. She is Roman Catholic, and this fact adds an extra layer of distrust between her and the sisters. This is overcome by Babette’s cooking and housekeeping skills; she acclimates quickly to their lifestyle and demonstrates that she respects their culture. Because she adheres to the rules so well, the locals come to adore her. However, hints of religious conflict rise when Babette insists on bringing her own culture into their lives. This tests the community’s acceptance of Babette because, as a refugee, she is not supposed to disrupt power dynamic between herself and the dominant culture.
Another barrier between Babette and the sisters is language. When Babette arrives, she can’t speak a word of Norwegian, and Martine and Philippa can only piece a little bit of French together between them. Babette never truly masters Norwegian, but that doesn’t stop her from accomplishing her goals. She quickly proves herself a contributor to the economy of her new home, when “in her broken Norwegian she beat down the prices of Berlevaag’s flintiest tradesmen” (16). She also uses her mistresses’ lack of knowledge of French to her advantage. When Martine nervously questions if one of the bottles Babette has ordered for the feast is wine, Babette replies, “No, Madame. It is a Clos Vougeot 1846!” (23). Martine, who “never suspected that wines could have names to them” protests no more (23).
One final aspect of Babette’s being a refugee is the fact that Martine and Philippa can’t relate to her experiences. They feel this whenever they observe her in the kitchen sitting on her three-legged stool in silence, “as enigmatical and fatal as Pythia upon her tripod” (17). Pythia, also known as the Oracle of Delphi, is a figure from Greek mythology. She was a priestess of Apollo who had prophetic visions when she fell into a trance. Comparing Babette to Pythia signals that the sisters see her as otherworldly and having access to knowledge beyond their understanding. They respect her for this, but they also fear her. So little do they comprehend her that they have difficulty understanding that Babette could have participated in the Paris Commune uprising as a Communard and still miss the elite class she served at the Café Anglais. They have no conception of what she has lost—what she has given up—until the end of the story, when she spells it out for them in plain, broken Norwegian.