Do you remember the story, just a few years ago, about Anna Sorokin, who posed as a wealthy heiress in New York City and became close to any number of well-to-do New Yorkers, celebrities, and artists? Well she was probably not the last to try something like that, and it won’t surprise you to know that she wasn’t the first, either. And Sorokin’s story isn’t as interesting as this one, which is about Minna Craucher, who was born August 23, 1891 in Aalto, Finland.
Craucher was known as Madame Craucher in Helsinki in the 1920s, where the high society of the time knew her as a millionaire German noblewoman and art lover. She was chauffeured around the city in her convertible limousine and consorted with an exiled Russian prince. She helped found Seura magazine (“The Society”) that she assured everyone was the best place to advertise goods and services for the wealthy.
Madame Craucher lived in a large, modern apartment that was decorated with striking oriental rugs, brass tables, and large cushions to sit on — the theme was Turkish, which was the most popular fashion trend of the day. In the apartment she hosted a salon frequented by the most popular artists and writers in Helsinki.
By 1929 Madame Craucher’s attention turned to politics; particularly the right-wing Lapua Movement. She claimed that she loved the uniforms, and became close with the leaders, and was personally recommended by Marshall Mannerheim, a famous Finnish leader.
But the real story of Madame Craucher was that she was Maria Lindell. She was orphaned at 15, moved by herself to Tampere, Finland, and severed all relations with the rest of her family. She was homeless, as far as anyone knows, and was arrested quite a few times for stealing. When she was about 20 she moved (or was transferred) to Helsinki and lived in a women’s shelter maintained by the Finnish Prison Association. She worked in the shelter as a babysitter, and continued stealing, which landed her in prison again between 1920 and 1923.
It must have been during her final stay in prison that she concocted her new identity, because shortly after she was released, Madame Craucher appeared in Helsinki. Although she was a German heiress, she explained her fluency in Finnish by pointing out that she also had Finnish ancestors and had been at least partially raised around Helsinki. She put a down payment on a car at a department store, and then claimed to fully own it. She alluded to her “Russian Prince” boyfriend, and sometimes implied that he was her chauffeur.
She really did found the magazine Seura, and sold advertising in it, but in reality hardly anybody read it and she sold ads by blackmail. She really did live in an extravagant apartment and host a popular salon, but that was probably paid for out of the advertising revenue that may not have made it all the way to the magazine. As for her later interest in politics, that’s probably explained by another secret she kept: she was also a spy! She was a communist agent working for Russia. Or at least she very likely was. Those personal recommendations from Marshall Mannerheim? All made up.
Madame Craucher really did get deeply embedded with the right-wing Lapua Movement, and that was her undoing. In 1932 they staged the Mäntsälä Rebellion, an attempt to take over Finnish government. It failed, and in the aftermath Craucher was shot and killed by another Lapua supporter who was drunk. It’s still not clear whether her killing was intentional or accidental.
Minna Craucher’s biography was written in 1991, but unfortunately it doesn’t seem to have been translated from the original Finnish. She’s pretty well known in Finnish fiction; she’s appeared in novels written from the 1920s up to 2013 — but I’m not sure any of those have been translated either. As for that modern copycat Anna Sorokin, we’ll just have to wait and see whether she shows up in any stories.
