The soft rustle of keyboards being touched, books opened, pages folded over, it is all but quiet. Yet it is very peaceful in the university library. A stilled day too, the third week of the summer break, the campus practically deserted. It's just me and a few other students that still have to finish their work.
It's my final year and I am going to graduate. The only thing needed is to finish my thesis, which is practically done. My dissertation on the social unrest which lead to the outbreak of the first world war just needs it's last chapter. The chapter about Mata Hari. Though her involvement in the war was not significant enough to prevent the war breaking out had she not been present on the stage, she has made a lasting memory and her name is well known all around the world.
The first woman that danced on stage in the nude. One of the signs that society was starting a change and the values and codes of old were fading and losing their grip on the world, her performances caused an outbreak of public horror and admiration, with every show fully booked and people lining up outside the theatres to catch a glimpse of her.
Born in holland, the mistress of many high officer or rich public figure, she roamed the world and performed her dances and became the most famous performer in the world. Her affection was sought after and many suitors were turned down, for she had an expensive taste. It was clear that her presence had an enchanting effect on the men around her, probably for a large part contributed to her alledged promiscuity. The reason why her first and only husband divorced her and took her daughter away from her. The battlefields had been drenched in blood for 3 years when she was executed, accused of espionage.
All these facts were easily found when typing her name into a search engine, numerous titles of books appeared where she was referenced in, parts of her story told as they coincided with other, more significant events of the years prior to the first acts of war, or to picture the atmophere in those days.
Her career started in Paris, the second time she sought her fortune there, the first one leaving her broke and lonely, forcing her to move back to her country of birth. But the neutral Netherlands could not offer her solace for long, she returned to Paris and met a director, monsieur Guimet. She had taken dancing lessons and performed as an eastern dancer, named 'Lady mcLeod'. Monsieur Guimet was director of an museum of Asian art and was very impressed. A few months later, a performance was announced by 'Mata Hari', the first naked dance in a public environment.
Her name became an instant brand, which with great speed travelled around the world ahead of her. The offers for performances came by the hundreds, the world was at her feet. Suitors were lining up and she chose the wealthiest ones to look after her. For years she had a good life, was adored and admired and settled in France, close to Paris in a small castle.. Over time her performances died to almost nothing, only dancing for a very small, select party.
But then her lover went bankrupt and could not provide for her anymore and she was forced to start dancing again to see to her own needs. In those days she travelled between Paris and Berlin and in Berlin she was recruited by intelligence services and instructed in the use of invisible ink. After a perilous journey to Paris and falling head over heels with a russion officer, who unfortunatly was not financially stable enough to afford her, she found herself invited for lunch by a french diplomate. At the end of the lunch, which ended in a room of the hotel where they had their meet, she agreed that she would gather information for the french government.
On a trip from Madrid to the Netherlands, the ship docking at Falmouth, she was arrested by british intelligence officers who had mistaken her for a german spy. After intensive interogations, she was sent back to Spain, her intentions called out as being 'un-neutral'. She returned to Madrid and left for Paris almost immediatly, spending a last month living her lifestyle as before. But then was arrested and imprisoned in France. Accused, tried and found guilty of espionage for Germany, she was executed on the 15th of October, 1917 at 06:15 in the morning. And thus the life of the famous Mata Hari was ended.
With a deep sigh I pull my eyes away from the book in front of me, fold my hands behind my head and lean backwards, letting my eyes aimlessly drift over the cold, tl-lighted ceiling. Letters dance in front of my eyes after an hour of intensive reading. The book had something strange about it. The paper feels different, the thick leather cover looks as if it was picked up in a hurricane, battered with dust and debry, grinding off the letters are seemingly embued in the sheep skin wrapping. And then tossed back to the soils of the earth. But the pages look as if they have never been turned before. Pristeen, no folds, tears or smudged edges. Strange because everywhere in the book are little scribbles, letters so small they are impossible to decypher. I take the book in my hands and browse through the pages until I find the passage of Mata Hari. My memory doesn't fool me, there is a small scribble there too. I tilt the page so the light from the big windows falls onto the page and am able to make out a date and a few words. '13-02-1957 1st attempt made'. The rest of the words are unreadable without a lense.
I read the passage, finding the story slightly off, a different view on Mata Hari shown, depicting her as a victim of circumstances, a pawn used in a foul play, the prey of a sexual being that thrived on volnurability. Odd, because after reading the report of her interogator, who showed his attraction to her in between the lines, I was convinced that she was in fact spying for Germany, playing both sides of the field. But the passage questions the motives of captain Bouchardon, his interest in her body denied, his feelings vengeful, eventually coaxing her to admit to the charges. That statement, the yes to his final question was underlined several times in the original document. There was no way out for Mata hari, or Griet as she was called by those that knew her as a child.
I read the passage again and again, each time the content seems to shift and change a little, shifting my prejudgemental view on Mata Hari. Some sentences stick in my mind and keep bouncing back into my thoughts.. 'Her last performance was in the bar of the hotel she resided in, forced to dance before the guests in order to pay the bill of her quarters. She was arrested that night'. 'No attempts were made, not even those that called themselves her friends, to warn her of her inescapable fait'. "Freedom was promised if she gave in to the request of Captain Bouchardon, but she rejected his repituous avances'. More and more the conviction finds root in my mind that Mata Hari was a victim, a victim of foul play and lust, on which neither she could get a grip. Cornered and not even aware of it, a scape goat, used as a pawn in a greater game.
I put the book down and slide my thumbs under my glasses, rubbing the lids and the corners of my eyes. It dazzles me all a bit, the shift of opinion feels unnatural, as if it was forced upon me, embedded in my mind from the outside, replacing what history saw as the truth about this mysterious woman. I keep my eyes closed for a few seconds as I try to order the thoughts that tumble in my mind. The suspicion has rooted and I'm finding it impossible to hold on to my previous convinctions.
