this, I had an experience of my own which seemed to reflect this
spirit of religious ecstasy. On my way to the inn toward midnight
I met a cyclist wearing a blue jersey, and on the breast, instead
of a college letter, was woven a yellow cross. On meeting me the
cyclist dismounted and insisted on shouting me the way. When we
came to the inn I offered him a krona. My guide smiled as though he
was possessed by a beatific vision. "No! I will not take the money,
but the gentleman will buy my bicycle!" As I expressed my
astonishment at this request, he smiled again confidently and
replied. "In a vision last night the Lord appeared unto me and said
that I should meet at midnight a stranger at the cross-roads
speaking an unknown tongue and 'the stranger will buy thy
bicycle!'"

The novel is opened by that favourite device of Selma Lagerlöf, the
monologue, through which she pries into the very soul of her
characters, in this case Ingmar, son of Ingmar, of Ingmar Farm.
Ingmar's monologue at the plow is a subtle portrayal of an heroic
battle between the forces of conscience and desire. Although this
prelude may be too subjective and involved to be readily digested
by readers unfamiliar with the Swedish author's method they will
soon follow with intent interest into those pages that describe how
Ingmar met at the prison door the girl for whose infanticide he was
ethically responsible. He brings her back apparently to face
disgrace and to blot the fair scutcheon of the Ingmarssons, but
actually to earn the respect of the whole community voiced in the
declaration of the Dean: "Now, Mother Martha, you can be proud of
Ingmar! It's plain now he belongs to the old stock; so we must
begin to call him '_Big_ Ingmar.'"