The Hidden Force by Louis Couperus Page A

wife, and sometimes, from outside, a few controllers and a few young clerks from the sugar factories. It was quite a lively circle of people, with whom she called the tune, put on plays, organized picnics, and whom she enchanted with her house, her dresses and her Epicurean artistic flair. They forgave her everything they could not understand—her aesthetic credo, her love of Wagner’s music—because she offered them merriment, a little
joie de vivre
and conviviality amid the deadly colonial tedium. For that they were deeply grateful to her. And in this way her house had become the real centre of the social life of Labuwangi, while the district commissioner’s mansion opposite withdrew grandly into the shade of its banyan trees. Léonie van Oudijck was not jealous. She liked to be left in peace and was only too happy to give control to Eva Eldersma. And so Léonie had no part in anything: music or amateur dramatic societies, or charitable work. She delegated all the social duties that the wife of a district commissioner normally undertakes, to Eva. Léonie had her reception once a month, spoke to everyone, smiled at everyone and at New Year gave her annual ball. That was the extent of social life in the commissioner’s mansion. For the rest she lived for herself, in the comfort that she had selfishly created around her, in her pink fantasy of cherubs and whatever love she could find. At intervals she felt the need for Batavia and went there for a few months. And so, as the wife of the district commissioner, she went her own way, while Evadid everything, and set the tone. There were sometimes petty jealousies, for example between her and the wife of the inspector of finances, who felt it was she and not the secretary’s wife who should take second place after Mrs Van Oudijck. This led to squabbling over colonial civil service etiquette, and to stories and gossip that circulated, blown up out of all proportion, in the remotest sugar factories in the district. Eva paid no attention to the rumours, preferring to inject some life into Labuwangi, and to that worthy end, she and her club took charge. She had been elected district president of the Thalia amateur dramatic society, and had accepted, provided the rules were abolished. She was prepared to be queen, but without a constitution. The general consensus was that this was impossible: there had always been a rule book. But Eva insisted that she did not wish to be president if there were rules. In that case, she simply preferred to act. They gave in: the rules of Thalia were abolished and Eva had absolute power to choose the plays and cast the productions. The company flourished—under her direction the standard of acting was so high that people came from Surabaya to attend performances at the Concordia club. The plays performed were of a quality never before seen in Concordia.
    This made her very popular in some quarters and very unpopular in others. But she pressed on and provided some European culture, to avoid gathering too much colonial “mould” in Labuwangi. And people went to great lengths to secure an invitation to her dinners, which were famed and notorious, since she demanded that the gentlemen came inevening dress and not in their Singapore jackets with no shirts underneath. She stipulated white tie and tails and would not budge. The ladies wore low-cut gowns as usual, to keep cool, and were delighted. But their partners protested and, on the first occasion, were all choking in their stiff collars and gasping for breath. The doctor maintained it was unhealthy; colonial veterans maintained it was absurd and contrary to all good old Indies customs…
    However, after they had gasped a few times in those tails and stiff collars, everyone found Mrs Eldersma’s dinners delightful, precisely because they were so European in style.

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    E VA ENTERTAINED GUESTS every two weeks.
    “My dear Commissioner, it’s not a reception,” she would always say to Van Oudijck in