Lookout Isle by Suzanne Brøgger
Marina Allemano
Commentary
Denmark has more than 500 islands in its kingdom, many of them uninhabited. The tiny island of Sprogø is located off the west coast of Sjælland, the country’s biggest island where Suzanne Brøgger resides, c. 30 km from Sprogø as the crow flies. In her book Sølve (2006) – named after the farm once located where the author lives – a chapter is dedicated to Sprogø where Sprogø Kvindehjem (Sprogø Women’s Home) was situated. At the end of the chapter the island of Femø is mentioned, famous for its Kvindelejr (Women’s Camp) established in 1971 during the second wave of Women’s Liberation Movement and still going strong. The contrast between life on the two islands underlines the different ideological climates that collided during the 1960s and 1970s: On Sprogø women’s sexual behaviour was in the hands of systemic, patriarchal control while the women on Femø found freedom away from said control. Ironically, Femø needs no introduction to Danish readers.
Ø is the word for island in Danish, a one-vowel word derived from the Old Norse ’ey’ meaning ’that which is surrounded by water.’
Sprogø – from old Danish ’sproe-ey’ – meaning ’lookout island’ from where the maritime traffic was monitored in the past.
Insulsproe is Suzanne Brøgger’s alternative name for Sprogø; ’insul’ connotes both island and isolation.
Excerpts (in English) from Suzanne Brøgger’s nonfiction book Sølve:
Denmark’s history counts many a son of landowners and landed gentry who ”had their way with …” and just as many (servant) girls ”of easy virtue.” And midway between the two realities is the island of Sprogø, twenty-five kilometres from Sølve.
My childhood friend and I went to the island to see the old institution for ”fallen women” also known as a ”girls’ home.” Young women were sent to the home as punishment for getting into trouble and had their babies taken away. And if they kicked up a fuss, they would be placed in so-called ”reflection rooms,” dark cells where they could be restrained. On the walls you can see their scratch marks.
Here on Sprogø the girls gladly lined up to be sterilized as it was the only way they could get away from the island. At first glance you would think it was something that had taken place during the Middle Ages, but in fact the home operated from 1922 to 1961, during my mother’s lifetime and mine as well. I was in highschool when it finally closed.
Today where many planned children struggle to see the light of day and fertility clinics prosper, Janne and I recall the days before the pill and the fear we had of becoming pregnant. And together we think back on our illegal and legal abortions with both sadness and gratitude.
[…]
Before the Reformation harlots were tolerated as appendages to men in the cities, but soon enough “ordinary women” as well as harlots had to wear hats of certain colours to make themselves identifiable. And leading up to the Reformation just about any woman who violated the Sixth Commandment was condemned as a prostitute. During the reign of King Christian III a number of married women were ordered to travel around the country twice a year and milk unmarried women in the towns to find out “who was making ready for childbed.”
After the Reformation where Luther encouraged matrimony for everyone and declared it God’s most pleasant gift to mankind, women were spared the age-old vilification, but in return they were obliged to bear children until they collapsed and died. “No sooner can the first child stand than the next one is on hand,” as the saying goes.
Not only did fornication and extra-marital depravity lead to damnation “for the twosome who committed the crime”; it was a poison that infected the whole society. One form of punishment was “bearing stones.” The woman would be forced to walk through streets and markets with two stones suspended from her shoulders while pulling the seducer behind her on a rope tied to his male member.
The punishment was later replaced with lashing of the woman who had let herself be led astray shamelessly, that is, been unable to convince the man in question to enter into marriage with her.
This was precisely the situation for the girls who ended up on Sprogø. Due to their “uninhibited impulsiveness” or “clingy erotic behaviour,” they were labelled insane, mentally deficient, slow-witted or psychopathic. In short, they were seen as morally deficient and as such a danger to society. Their “cognitive proficiency” was also tested, and if an unfortunate girl should stumble in her recitation of the list of Danish kings and confuse Valdemar Sejr with Valdemar Atterdag, a trip to the isolated island would be considered.
Especially after the First World War when the fear of an epidemic of venereal diseases was growing and procreative hygiene was encouraged, it seemed like a good idea to protect the morally weak women against abuse, since the isolation on the island would serve as the very restraint the girls themselves were lacking, according to Birgit Kirkebæk’s research into the institution.*
[…]
You don’t have to go too far back in time to find that a woman’s sexual pleasure was synonymous with being slow. Reversely one would conclude that any form of self-restraint, of masochistic suppression of behaviour and joy connected with the tiresome duty was a sign of high intelligence.
So-called lazy girls could likewise risk being ostracized from society. One witness reports that the girls who were deported to the island were no different than those who receive welfare assistance today.
You can observe the entire history of libido in all its horror and merriment on Sprogø. Societal morality relied on women who were dedicated to hard work and self-control and not on those who were ”addicted to coitus” – as was reported in their files. For surely there would be more than one woman ready to pull down her pants the moment a man with shiny buttons came along.
Today we say that ”there were too many wrongful placements” – as if some of them were acceptable. If playing comb and paper and making her man sing at the top of his voice, well, yes, this woman would soon be on her way to the island! What’s more, women could risk being jailed if they showed an ”obvious desire to go vagabonding,” and women who enjoyed telling stories about their flirtations and sexual adventures with men would likewise find themselves in the danger zone. Being assigned to the dummy-home – where their stories were ignored – was therefore preferable.
There was room for sixty-six girls at a time at the institution, and they were typically interned for two to seven years during which time they worked in sewing and weaving workshops and received training as housekeepers. Half a year was spent in the kitchen, half a year with house cleaning, half a year in the kitchen garden – the home was self-reliant – and half a year in the fields. And they never had a day off except on their birthday. If caught stealing a piece of pastry or a headscarf, they would have their birthday privilege revoked as punishment. Once a month an operator would sail to the island and show the girls a film: Laurel & Hardy.
Still they rebelled and smashed windows. And set fire to the building. But the policeman didn’t dare come to the rescue, for what can one man do when confronted with sixty women? Another time a whole detachment was sent from the town of Slagelse [on the island of Sjælland], and the women were overjoyed: Shiny buttons coming their way!
When they had behaved themselves exceptionally well, they were granted permission to go to the ”Plague House,” a structure where people in the 1700s were kept in quarantine when crossing the sound. Here fishermen and farmers from the island of Fyn would come and secretely ”have a good time with the girls.” Rumours about an island full of female sex-maniacs, who the experts feared might turn lesbian, ultimately created an effective network by water. It was the lighthouse keeper’s job to make sure none of the girls would swim away. Once, when one of the girls became pregnant, the lighthouse keeper as the only man on the island had a problem explaining himself.
During a ten-year period the matron was a certain Miss Hansen who enjoyed special meals because she was afraid she might be poisoned by the girls who were familiar with the wild plants on the island, including black swallow-wort and cowbane.
Janne and I talked about how much sexual mores have changed in our own lifetime from those days when newborns were left as foundlings on doorsteps and women walked into the bog or were deported to Sprogø. Today it is no longer a question of having ”legitimate” or ”illegitimate” children but of preserving the anonymity of sperm donors. The arrival of the first donor-conceived children twenty years ago was an ideological event: It was not important who the father was; women could reproduce themselves just like the Virgin Mary. Later it came as a surprise that few children grow up happy not having the question of paternity resolved. Many were haunted by the mystery and unable to let it go.
[…]
During the 1930s the Minister of Social Affairs paid the island a visit in company with journalists and photographers. However, they were not allowed to take pictures; the captives’ identity had to be protected.
It was never revealed who had been sent to Sprogø. It was not unlike Argentina during the junta: people disappeared. And if anyone asked about the disappeared girls, they wouldn’t get an answer. For years the individuals who had been isolated on Sprogø had lived close to Sølve [the author’s residence]. They were marked for life, and the rumour has it that many went out of their mind. But I didn’t know. Neither do I know how many kilometres there are from Sprogø to Femø, but in terms of history it only amounts to ten years.
*Birgit Kirkebæk, Letfærdig og løsagtig – kvindeanstalten Sprogø 1923 – 1961 (Indecent and Unchaste – Women’s Institution Sprogø, 2004).
Excerpts (in Danish) from Suzanne Brøgger’s nonfiction book Sølve:
Insulsproe
Hele Danmarkshistorien er fuld af godsejersønner, der „fik deres vilje”, og (tjeneste)piger, „der ikke kunne styre sig”. Og lige midt imellem de to virkeligheder, 25 kilometer fra Sølve, ligger Sprogø.
Jeg er rejst derover med en barndomsveninde for at se den gamle anstalt for „faldne kvinder”, også kaldet et pigehjem. Hertil blev kvinder deporteret som straf, hvis de var kommet i ulykke og havde fået konfiskeret deres børn. Og hvis de brokkede sig, var der såkaldte „betænkningsrum”, mørkeceller, hvor man kunne blive spændt fast. Der er kradsemærker på væggene.
Her på Sprogø stod pigerne gladeligt i kø for at blive steriliseret, for det var den eneste mulighed for at slippe væk. Umiddelbart skulle man tro, at det var noget, der skete i middelalderen, men „hjemmet” fungerede fra 1922 til 1961, i min mors tid og min egen. Det blev først lukket, da jeg skulle i gymnasiet.
I dag, hvor alle de planlagte ønskebørn har svært ved at komme til verden, og hvor fertilitetsklinikkerne har kronede dage, husker Janne og jeg den angst, vi havde for at blive gravide, inden p-pillen. Og vi mindes vores illegale og legale aborter med lige dele sorg og taknemmelighed.
[…]
Inden reformationen var skøger tålt som tilbehør i byerne, men snart skulle både „almindelige kvinder” såvel som skøger bære huer af egen farve for at være kendelige. Og hen imod reformationen var en skøge snart sagt enhver kvinde, der overtrådte det sjette bud. Under Christian III befaledes nogle dannekvinder at rejse rundt to gange om året og malke alle de ugifte kvinder i byerne for at finde ud af, „hvo der redte til barsel”.
Efter reformationen, hvor Luther havde tilladt ægteskab for alle og gjort det til en gudvelbehagelig position, blev kvinder nok frelst fra den ældgamle fordømmelse, men til gengæld ansat til at føde børn, indtil de faldt døde om. „Når det ene barn får tænder, får det andet hænder,” som mundheldet lød.
Netop derfor var horen og det ægteskabelige skørlevned ikke alene en fortabelse „for de tvende der udøve forbrydelsen”, det var en gift, der inficerede hele samfundet. En straf kunne være „at bære sten”, to sten blev hængt over kvindens skuldre, mens hun i alles påsyn gennem gader og over torve skulle trække forføreren efter sig i et reb, som blev fastgjort til hans mandlige lem.
Denne straf blev senere erstattet med piskning af den kvinde, der havde ladet sig beligge med uære, altså uden at kunne bevæge vedkommende til at indgå ægteskab med sig.
Dette var lige præcis Sprogø-pigernes situation. De blev på grund af „uhæmmet impulsivitet” eller „klæbende erotisk adfærd” klassificeret som sindssyge, åndssvage, sinker eller psykopater, kort sagt moralsvage og dermed til fare for samfundet. Deres „åndelige standpunkt” blev prøvet, og var der slinger i kongerækken, og en arme pige byttede om på Valdemar Sejr og Valdemar Atterdag, kom isolationsøen i betragtning.
Særlig efter Første Verdenskrig, hvor frygten for kønssygdomsepidemier greb om sig, og forplantningshygiejnen var i højsædet, regnede man det for en god idé at beskytte de moralsvage kvinder mod overgreb, idet ø-isoleringen skulle udgøre den hæmning, pigerne selv manglede, ifølge Birgit Kirkebæks undersøgelse af kvindeanstalten.
[…]
Man skal ikke langt tilbage i tiden, før lystfølelsen for en kvinde var ensbetydende med at være sinke. Omvendt må man så slutte, at enhver selvtugt, masochistisk underkastelse over for udnyttelse og glæde ved den sure pligt var et tegn på høj intelligens. Dovne piger kunne risikere udstødelse af samfundet. Et vidne beretter, at de piger, der blev deporteret, ikke var anderledes end dem, der i dag er på kontanthjælp.
På Sprogø kan libidoens historie aflæses i al sin gru og lystighed. Samfundsmoralen har bygget på kvinders flid og selvkontrol og ikke på dem, der – som der står i journalen – var „meget forfaldne til coitus”. For selvfølgelig har der været en kvinde, der tog bukserne af, så snart hun så en mand med blanke knapper.
I dag siger man: „Der var for mange fejlanbringelser” – som om nogen af dem var rigtige! At spille på redekam og få en mand til at synge i vilden sky, ja, så var den kvinde rede til ø-ophold! Kvinder kunne risikere at blive interneret, hvis de havde „udpræget lyst til en vagabonderende tilværelse”. Kvinder, der fandt nydelse i at fortælle om deres kæresterier og omgang med mandspersoner, var også i farezonen. Anbringelse på sinkehjem, hvor man overhørte pigens historier, var derfor at foretrække.
Der var seksogtres internerede piger tilbageholdt ad gangen på anstalten Sprogø i to til syv år, hvor de blev uddannet som husbestyrerinder på sy- og vævestue, med et halvt år i køkkenet, et halvt år med rengøring, et halvt år i urtehaven – de var selvforsynende – et halvt år i landbruget, og de havde aldrig fri, undtagen på fødselsdage. Straffen for tyveri af et stykke wienerbrød eller et hovedtørklæde var at få inddraget sin fødselsdagsfridag. En gang om måneden sejlede en operatør over på øen og viste pigerne en film, Gøg og Gogge.
Alligevel gjorde de oprør og smadrede ruder. Satte ild til anstalten. Men politibetjenten turde ikke komme, for hvad kan én mand gøre mod halvtreds kvinder?
En anden gang blev der sendt en hel bataljon af betjente fra Slagelse, og kvinderne jublede: Blanke knapper på vej!
Når de havde opført sig rigtig pænt, kunne de få lov at komme over i „pest-huset”. Det var dér, hvor man blev sat i karantæne på overfarten over bæltet i 1700-tallet. Her tog fynske landmænd og fiskere over og „hyggede sig med pigerne” i smug. Rygtet om en øfuld af erotomane kvinder, som sagkundskaben frygtede ville blive lesbiske, skabte gode kontakter ad vandvejen. Det var fyrmesterens opgave at holde øje med, at ingen af pigerne svømmede bort. Engang blev en af pigerne gravid. Da havde fyrmesteren som ene mand på øen et forklaringsproblem.
I en tiårig periode hed forstanderinden frk. Hansen, og hun fik særforplejning, for hun var så angst for at blive forgiftet af pigerne, der godt kendte til de vilde planter på øen, både bumle- og svalerod.
Janne og jeg taler om, hvordan kønsforholdene har forandret sig i vores egen levetid. Fra dengang man lagde sine spædbørn på dørtrin som hittebørn, druknede sig i mosen eller blev deporteret til Sprogø. I dag er det ikke mere et spørgsmål om „ægte” eller „uægte” børn, men om faderskabets anonymitet ved inseminering. De første donorbørn for en snes år siden var ideologiske: Det skulle ikke have nogen betydning, hvem faderen var. Kvinderne ville reproducere sig selv, ligesom Jomfru Maria. Det kom bag på de fleste, at næsten ingen børn kan vokse op uden at få spørgsmålet afklaret. Mange bliver fuldstændig beslaglagt af mysteriet og får det på hjernen.
[…]
I 30’erne aflagde socialministeren øen et besøg omgivet af journalister og fotografer, men det blev dem forbudt at fotografere. De indespærrede skulle ikke genkendes.
Der blev aldrig talt højt om, hvem der var blevet sendt til Sprogø, det var bare ligesom i Argentina under juntaen: Mennesker forsvandt. Og hvis man spurgte til de forsvundne, fik man intet svar. De mennesker, der var isoleret på Sprogø, har levet i nærheden af Sølve i mange år. De var stemplet for livet, og det siges, at mange af dem blev skøre i hovedet. Men jeg vidste det ikke. Jeg ved heller ikke, hvor mange kilometer, der er fra Sprogø til Femø, men historisk set er der kun ti år imellem.
Date
May 7, 2025