Twist of plot much enjoyed by fictional countries-loving authors: making the representative of a fictional place a royalty in distress. Here, the royalty in question is Prince Aribert of Posen, who (naturally) falls in love with the female protagonist, Nella. On the very first page of the book, the question of Posen's location is dealt with:
"The millionaire thought he had once heard of Posen, but he wasn't sure; he rather fancied it was one of those small nondescript German States of which five-sixths of the subjects are Palace officials, and the rest charcoal-burners or innkeepers." (p.21--22).
The size of the country is referred to -- and note how the author mirrors our ignorance in the millionaire's question, so we can pretend it is the millionaire who is bad at geography, not us:
"'How large is Posen?' asked Racksole bluntly".
The size turns out to be not very impressive: "I remember that once Prince Aribert and myself walked across it and back again in a single day." (p. 23).
As sometimes happens in fiction that employs fictional lands, some deceit is at play:
"'Father, this is his Serene Highness Prince Aribert of Posen -- one of our most esteemed customers.'
'You know my name, Frรคulein?' the new-comer murmured in German.
'Certainly, Prince,' Nella replied sweetly. 'You were plain Count Steenbock last spring in Paris -- doubtless travelling incognito --'" (p.39).
Finally, Posen is an example of what I call "recycled names", meaning that though the state is not real, the name has been used in the real world (e.g. The Grand Duchy of Posen; The Province of Posen). Same thing with Bosnia, which has had no king since XV century:
"'Has any previous application ever been made for the hand of the Princess Anna?'
'Yes. Last year. The King of Bosnia sued for it, but his proposal was declined.' (p. 137) That fact enables Racksole to hypothesize that "someone in Bosnia [...] is at the bottom of this business. The methods of Balkan politicians have always been half-oriental.'" (p. 138)
Bennett, Arnold. The Grand Babylon Hotel. London, Vintage.
"The millionaire thought he had once heard of Posen, but he wasn't sure; he rather fancied it was one of those small nondescript German States of which five-sixths of the subjects are Palace officials, and the rest charcoal-burners or innkeepers." (p.21--22).
The size of the country is referred to -- and note how the author mirrors our ignorance in the millionaire's question, so we can pretend it is the millionaire who is bad at geography, not us:
"'How large is Posen?' asked Racksole bluntly".
The size turns out to be not very impressive: "I remember that once Prince Aribert and myself walked across it and back again in a single day." (p. 23).
As sometimes happens in fiction that employs fictional lands, some deceit is at play:
"'Father, this is his Serene Highness Prince Aribert of Posen -- one of our most esteemed customers.'
'You know my name, Frรคulein?' the new-comer murmured in German.
'Certainly, Prince,' Nella replied sweetly. 'You were plain Count Steenbock last spring in Paris -- doubtless travelling incognito --'" (p.39).
Finally, Posen is an example of what I call "recycled names", meaning that though the state is not real, the name has been used in the real world (e.g. The Grand Duchy of Posen; The Province of Posen). Same thing with Bosnia, which has had no king since XV century:
"'Has any previous application ever been made for the hand of the Princess Anna?'
'Yes. Last year. The King of Bosnia sued for it, but his proposal was declined.' (p. 137) That fact enables Racksole to hypothesize that "someone in Bosnia [...] is at the bottom of this business. The methods of Balkan politicians have always been half-oriental.'" (p. 138)
Bennett, Arnold. The Grand Babylon Hotel. London, Vintage.
