In "A Doll's House" Ibsen returns to the subject so vital to him,--the
Social Lie and Duty,--this time as manifesting themselves in the sacred
institution of the home and in the position of woman in her gilded cage.
_Nora_ is the beloved, adored wife of _Torvald Helmer_. He is an
admirable man, rigidly honest, of high moral ideals, and passionately
devoted to his wife and children. In short, a good man and an enviable
husband. Almost every mother would be proud of such a match for her
daughter, and the latter would consider herself fortunate to become the
wife of such a man.
_Nora_, too, considers herself fortunate. Indeed, she worships her
husband, believes in him implicitly, and is sure that if ever her safety
should be menaced, _Torvald_, her idol, her god, would perform the
miracle.
When a woman loves as _Nora_ does, nothing else matters; least of all,
social, legal or moral considerations. Therefore, when her husband's
life is threatened, it is no effort, it is joy for _Nora_ to forge her
father's name to a note and borrow 800 cronen on it, in order to take
her sick husband to Italy.
In her eagerness to serve her husband, and in perfect innocence of the
legal aspect of her act, she does not give the matter much thought,
except for her anxiety to shield him from any emergency that may call
upon him to perform the miracle in her behalf. She works hard, and saves
every penny of her pin-money to pay back the amount she borrowed on the
forged check.
_Nora_ is light-hearted and gay, apparently without depth. Who, indeed,
would expect depth of a doll, a "squirrel," a song-bird? Her purpose in
life is to be happy for her husband's sake, for the sake of the
children; to sing, dance, and play with them. Besides, is she not
shielded, protected, and cared for? Who, then, would suspect _Nora_ of
depth? But already in the opening scene, when _Torvald_ inquires what
his precious "squirrel" wants for a Christmas present, _Nora_ quickly
asks him for money. Is it to buy macaroons or finery? In her talk with
_Mrs. Linden_, _Nora_ reveals her inner self, and forecasts the
inevitable debacle of her doll's house.
After telling her friend how she had saved her husband, _Nora_ says:
"When Torvald gave me money for clothes and so on, I never used more
than half of it; I always bought the simplest things.... Torvald never
noticed anything. But it was often very hard, Christina dear. For it's
nice to be beautifully dressed. Now, isn't it?... Well, and besides
that, I made money in other ways. Last winter I was so lucky--I got a
heap of copying to do. I shut myself up every evening and wrote far into
the night. Oh, sometimes I was so tired, so tired. And yet it was
splendid to work in that way and earn money. I almost felt as if I was a
man."
Down deep in the consciousness of _Nora_ there evidently slumbers
personality and character, which could come into full bloom only through
a great miracle--not the kind _Nora_ hopes for, but a miracle just the
same.
_Nora_ had borrowed the money from _Nils Krogstad_, a man with a shady
past in the eyes of the community and of the righteous moralist,
_Torvald Helmer_. So long as _Krogstad_ is allowed the little breathing
space a Christian people grants to him who has once broken its laws, he
is reasonably human. He does not molest _Nora_. But when _Helmer_
becomes director of the bank in which _Krogstad_ is employed, and
threatens the man with dismissal, _Krogstad_ naturally fights back. For
as he says to _Nora_: "If need be, I shall fight as though for my life
to keep my little place in the bank.... It's not only for the money:
that matters least to me. It's something else. Well, I'd better make a
clean breast of it. Of course you know, like every one else, that some
years ago I--got into trouble.... The matter never came into court; but
from that moment all paths were barred to me. Then I took up the
business you know about. I was obliged to grasp at something; and I
don't think I've been one of the worst. But now I must clear out of it
all. My sons are growing up; for their sake I must try to win back as
much respectability as I can. This place in the bank was the first step,
and now your husband wants to kick me off the ladder, back into the
mire. Mrs. Helmer, you evidently have no clear idea what you have really
done. But I can assure you that it was nothing more and nothing worse
that made me an outcast from society.... But this I may tell you, that
If I'm flung into the gutter a second time, you shall keep me company."
Even when _Nora_ is confronted with this awful threat, she does not fear
for herself, only for _Torvald_,--so good, so true, who has such an
aversion to debts, but who loves her so devotedly that for her sake he
would take the blame upon himself. But this must never be. _Nora_, too,
begins a fight for life, for her husband's life and that of her
children. Did not _Helmer_ tell her that the very presence of a criminal
like _Krogstad_ poisons the children? And is she not a criminal?
_Torvald Helmer_ assures her, in his male conceit, that "early
corruption generally comes from the mother's side, but of course the
father's influence may act in the same way. And this Krogstad has been
poisoning his own children for years past by a life of lies and
hypocrisy--that's why I call him morally ruined."
Poor _Nora_, who cannot understand why a daughter has no right to spare
her dying father anxiety, or why a wife has no right to save her
husband's life, is surely not aware of the true character of her idol.
But gradually the veil is lifted. At first, when in reply to her
desperate pleading for _Krogstad_, her husband discloses the true reason
for wanting to get rid of him: "The fact is, he was a college chum of
mine--there was one of those rash friendships between us that one so
often repents later. I don't mind confessing it--he calls me by my
Christian name; and he insists on doing it even when others are present.
He delights in putting on airs of familiarity--Torvald here, Torvald
there! I assure you it's most painful to me. He would make my position
at the bank perfectly unendurable."
And then again when the final blow comes. For forty-eight hours _Nora_
battles for her ideal, never doubting _Torvald_ for a moment. Indeed,
so absolutely sure is she of her strong oak, her lord, her god, that she
would rather kill herself than have him take the blame for her act. The
end comes, and with it the doll's house tumbles down, and _Nora_
discards her doll's dress--she sheds her skin, as it were. _Torvald
Helmer_ proves himself a petty Philistine, a bully and a coward, as so
many good husbands when they throw off their respectable cloak.
_Helmer's_ rage over _Nora's_ crime subsides the moment the danger of
publicity is averted--proving that _Helmer_, like many a moralist, is
not so much incensed at _Nora's_ offense as by the fear of being found
out. Not so _Nora_. Finding out is her salvation. It is then that she
realizes how much she has been wronged, that she is only a plaything, a
doll to _Helmer_. In her disillusionment she says, "You have never loved
me. You only thought it amusing to be in love with me."
_Helmer._ Why, Nora, what a thing to say!
_Nora._ Yes, it is so, Torvald. While I was at home with father he
used to tell me all his opinions and I held the same opinions. If I
had others I concealed them, because he would not have liked it. He
used to call me his doll child, and play with me as I played with my
dolls. Then I came to live in your house---- ... I mean I passed
from father's hands into yours. You settled everything according to
your taste; and I got the same tastes as you; or I pretended to--I
don't know which--both ways perhaps. When I look back on it now, I
seem to have been living here like a beggar, from hand to mouth. I
lived by performing tricks for you, Torvald. But you would have it
so. You and father have done me a great wrong. It's your fault that
my life has been wasted....
_Helmer._ It's exasperating! Can you forsake your holiest duties in
this way?
_Nora._ What do you call my holiest duties?
_Helmer._ Do you ask me that? Your duties to your husband and your
children.
_Nora._ I have other duties equally sacred.
_Helmer._ Impossible! What duties do you mean?
_Nora._ My duties toward myself.
_Helmer._ Before all else you are a wife and a mother.
_Nora._ That I no longer believe. I think that before all else I am
a human being, just as much as you are--or, at least, I will try to
become one. I know that most people agree with you, Torvald, and
that they say so in books. But henceforth I can't be satisfied with
what most people say, and what is in books. I must think things out
for myself and try to get clear about them.... I had been living
here these eight years with a strange man, and had borne him three
children--Oh! I can't bear to think of it--I could tear myself to
pieces!... I can't spend the night in a strange man's house.
Is there anything more degrading to woman than to live with a stranger,
and bear him children? Yet, the lie of the marriage institution decrees
that she shall continue to do so, and the social conception of duty
insists that for the sake of that lie she need be nothing else than a
plaything, a doll, a nonentity.
When _Nora_ closes behind her the door of her doll's house, she opens
wide the gate of life for woman, and proclaims the revolutionary message
that only perfect freedom and communion make a true bond between man and
woman, meeting in the open, without lies, without shame, free from the
bondage of duty.