Cyprian Kamil Norwid (1821-1883)
One of the most distinguished Romantic poets and thinkers, Cyprian Kamil Norwid was underappreciated in his lifetime. He only secured his rightful place in the Polish literary pantheon several decades after his death. The poet passed away in Paris, ailing and alone, in an émigré charitable house run by Polish nuns. His funeral took place on 25 May 1883. Initially, he was buried in a modest cemetery at Ivry, but upon the expiration of the plot’s lease, his remains were moved to a collective Polish grave at Montmorency Cemetery. Later, following another expired lease, his remains were transferred to the communal grave of the residents of the Hôtel Lambert.

Cyprian Kamil Norwid, of the Topór coat of arms, was born on 24 September 1821 in the Masovian village of Laskowo-Głuchy. Orphaned by his mother at the age of four, he was taken in by his grandmother, Anna Hilaria Sobieska. As he liked to emphasise later, he was related to King John III Sobieski on his mother’s side. A few years later, he moved with his father and siblings to Warsaw, where he attended gymnasium. However, he dropped out of school before completing his fifth year, only to enrol in a private art school. He pursued painting in Kraków and travelled extensively abroad to Dresden, Florence, and Venice, where he continued his explorations and established numerous social, artistic, and political connections. At the age of twenty-one, Norwid left Poland permanently. In Rome, he met the love of his life, Maria Kalergis. Though his love was unrequited, he followed her throughout Europe for years despite his persistent financial struggles.

Norwid also spent time in Berlin, where he attended university lectures and joined gatherings of the local Polish community. An unfortunate turn of events in 1846 led to his detention in a high-security remand prison, where harsh conditions permanently affected his health. It was during this period that his hearing issues began, and they worsened steadily over the years. Upon his release, he left Prussia and resumed his travels. In Italy, he met Adam Mickiewicz and Zygmunt Krasiński, and while in Paris, he crossed paths with ailing Juliusz Słowacki and Fryderyk Chopin; these encounters profoundly influenced his work. Norwid settled in Paris in early February 1849, where he remained until his death over thirty years later, with a two-year interruption for a brief „emigration from emigration” to North America. The Paris period marked the longest and most challenging chapter of his life. His circumstances were often difficult, marked by financial hardship, personal disappointments, harsh reviews from the critics, and political tensions.

Driven by severe financial hardship in Paris, he arrived in New York on 12 February 1853 aboard the steamer Margaret Evans, entering as an economic emigrant. He managed to secure a position in a graphic design studio. His American experience profoundly shaped his life, as reflected in his work titled Praca („Labour”), where he explores the role of professional work in human existence. Despite improved personal circumstances in America, he returned to Paris via London in mid-1854 upon hearing of the outbreak of the Crimean War (1853-1856), which Poles hoped might have led to the restoration of their independence. However, his return soon became a chain of further disappointments: an unsuccessful trip to Florence, in which he had invested high hopes; persistent financial troubles; and the aggravating effects of tuberculosis, which increasingly wore him down physically.

Ultimately, Cyprian Kamil Norwid found refuge at the House of Saint Casimir, near Paris, a shelter for Polish orphans and military veterans run by nuns and established by philanthropist Anna Czartoryska, née Sapieha, to aid those Poles in exile who lived in deplorable conditions. Taken there by his cousin Michał Kleczkowski on 9 February 1877, Norwid spent nearly five years at the shelter. Despite many hardships, he continued his literary and artistic work until the end of his life, producing such works as the novellas later termed his „Italian Trilogy,” including Stygmat („The Stigma”), Ad leones, and the remarkable Tajemnica lorda Singelworth („The Secret of Lord Singleworth”), all rich with Italian influences. These final years were deeply sorrowful for Norwid; he grew weaker and eventually stopped leaving the premises. He died in solitude on 23 May 1883. His final moments were recorded by Mother Superior Mikułowska, who recalled: „Norwid was abandoned and impoverished, brought low more by sadness, longing, and the neglect of so many who had once been close to him, all of which left him melancholy and hastened his end. His near-total deafness further isolated him from the world. His final moments were deeply peaceful: he seemed to fall asleep rather than die. He often wept but never shared his innermost feelings with anyone, and I believe that silence broke him in the end.”

Cyprian Kamil Norwid never knew the warmth of a family home, nor did he establish a family of his own. Throughout his exile, he moved continually between studios, rented rooms, hotels, and boarding houses. His life was marked by constant material insecurity, and he often turned down promising opportunities, relying solely on his intellect and art, which remained his faithful companions to the end. Norwid is sometimes called the „poet of Polish statehood,” a figure who deliberately transcended the conventions of his time and culture. He was also a master of neologisms. Unrecognised during his lifetime, Norwid’s work remained undervalued for many years after his death. Only a tiny portion of his writings was published while he was alive. However, at the end of the nineteenth century, his work was rediscovered and gradually brought to light by writer and critic Zenon Przesmycki, nom de plume Miriam. The first complete edition of all extant and recovered works by Cyprian Kamil Norwid was finally published between 1971 and 1976, including an extensive collection of lyrical poetry, dramas, and novellas. Dismissed by his contemporaries, Norwid was destined to be fully understood only by the „late-coming posterity” of future generations.