Jørgen-Frantz Jacobsen, Barbara. The current edition (with a translation by George Johnston, Norvik Press, 1993) is serviceable and thorough, if somewhat pedantic. When I first read the book a couple of years ago I enjoyed it immensely.
Recently, my interest in Estrid was re-kindled when I obtained a well-thumbed copy of the original Penguin paperback of Barbara (#631, One shilling and sixpence), that featured the first translation, her translation. This version was a revelation. Aside from the strange sensation of reading a book where, in real life, the translator was the basis for the free-spirited main character, I found that the POV was decidedly more sympathetic to Barbara’s story and less favorable towards the miserable Parson Poul who, knowing full well what kind of woman Barbara was, falls for her anyway and tortures himself for the rest of the book.
There is more to Estrid’s story. After Jacobsen died from tuberculosis in 1938, Estrid was a founding member of the Adventurers Club of Denmark, and later made her way to England where she was an attache to the Danish Embassy during World War II. In the prime of her life, attractive and cultured, she did not want for company and ultimately ended up as the lover of William Emrys Williams, an influential educator and writer (he was knighted) and one of the founders of Penguin Books. From a humble start in the 1930s, the Penguin imprimatur became known world-wide as a mark of high-quality publications, a reputation which continues to this day. In 1946 they introduced the now classic cover scheme:
Estrid was on the Penguin payroll as a translator and editor, where she had many titles to her credit. Her affair with Williams eventually cooled and when he died (in 1965) his memoirs, which would have undoubtedly contained details of his affair with Estrid, were burned by his secretary—who then committed suicide!
Estrid spent the final years of her life in Ireland. Her name became, with delicious irony, Estrid Bannister Good when she married Ernest Good, an Irish fisherman and businessman. Before she died in 2000, she had been interviewed by television reporters, had a biography written about her and had the letters between her and Jacobsen published. Alas, all these resources are in Danish only, but what I’ve read about them suggestes that she was, indeed, very much like Barbara—loving but unsentimental—and never letting conventional mores hinder her quest for a fulfilling life.