The winter of 1879-80 Ibsen spent in Munich, and the greater part of the
summer of 1880 at Berchtesgaden. November 1880 saw him back in Rome, and
he passed the summer of 1881 at Sorrento. There, fourteen years earlier,
he had written the last acts of _Peer Gynt_; there he now wrote, or at
any rate completed, _Gengangere_. It was published in December 1881,
after he had returned to Rome. On December 22 he wrote to Ludwig
Passarge, one of his German translators, "My new play has now appeared,
and has occasioned a terrible uproar in the Scandinavian press; every
day I receive letters and newspaper articles decrying or praising it....
I consider it utterly impossible that any German theatre will accept the
play at present. I hardly believe that they will dare to play it in the
Scandinavian countries for some time to come." How rightly he judged we
shall see anon.
In the newspapers there was far more obloquy than praise. Two men,
however, stood by him from the first: Björnson, from whom he had been
practically estranged ever since _The League of Youth_, and Georg
Brandes. The latter published an article in which he declared (I quote
from memory) that the play might or might not be Ibsen's greatest
work, but that it was certainly his noblest deed. It was, doubtless, in
acknowledgment of this article that Ibsen wrote to Brandes on January 3,
1882: "Yesterday I had the great pleasure of receiving your brilliantly
clear and so warmly appreciative review of _Ghosts_.... All who read
your article must, it seems to me, have their eyes opened to what I
meant by my new book--assuming, that is, that they have any _wish_ to
see. For I cannot get rid of the impression that a very large number of
the false interpretations which have appeared in the newspapers are
the work of people who know better. In Norway, however, I am willing to
believe that the stultification has in most cases been unintentional;
and the reason is not far to seek. In that country a great many of the
critics are theologians, more or less disguised; and these gentlemen
are, as a rule, quite unable to write rationally about creative
literature. That enfeeblement of judgment which, at least in the case
of the average man, is an inevitable consequence of prolonged occupation
with theological studies, betrays itself more especially in the judging
of human character, human actions, and human motives. Practical business
judgment, on the other hand, does not suffer so much from studies of
this order. Therefore the reverend gentlemen are very often excellent
members of local boards; but they are unquestionably our worst critics."
This passage is interesting as showing clearly the point of view from
which Ibsen conceived the character of Manders. In the next paragraph
of the same letter he discusses the attitude of "the so-called Liberal
press"; but as the paragraph contains the germ of _An Enemy of the
People_, it may most fittingly be quoted in the introduction to that
play.
Three days later (January 6) Ibsen wrote to Schandorph, the Danish
novelist: "I was quite prepared for the hubbub. If certain of our
Scandinavian reviewers have no talent for anything else, they have
an unquestionable talent for thoroughly misunderstanding and
misinterpreting those authors whose books they undertake to judge....
They endeavour to make me responsible for the opinions which certain of
the personages of my drama express. And yet there is not in the whole
book a single opinion, a single utterance, which can be laid to the
account of the author. I took good care to avoid this. The very method,
the order of technique which imposes its form upon the play, forbids
the author to appear in the speeches of his characters. My object was
to make the reader feel that he was going through a piece of real
experience; and nothing could more effectually prevent such an
impression than the intrusion of the author's private opinions into the
dialogue. Do they imagine at home that I am so inexpert in the theory of
drama as not to know this? Of course I know it, and act accordingly.
In no other play that I have written is the author so external to the
action, so entirely absent from it, as in this last one."
"They say," he continued, "that the book preaches Nihilism. Not at all.
It is not concerned to preach anything whatsoever. It merely points
to the ferment of Nihilism going on under the surface, at home as
elsewhere. A Pastor Manders will always goad one or other Mrs. Alving
to revolt. And just because she is a woman, she will, when once she has
begun, go to the utmost extremes."
Towards the end of January Ibsen wrote from Rome to Olaf Skavlan:
"These last weeks have brought me a wealth of experiences, lessons, and
discoveries. I, of course, foresaw that my new play would call forth a
howl from the camp of the stagnationists; and for this I care no more
than for the barking of a pack of chained dogs. But the pusillanimity
which I have observed among the so-called Liberals has given me cause
for reflection. The very day after my play was published the _Dagblad_
rushed out a hurriedly-written article, evidently designed to purge
itself of all suspicion of complicity in my work. This was entirely
unnecessary. I myself am responsible for what I write, I and no one
else. I cannot possibly embarrass any party, for to no party do I
belong. I stand like a solitary franc-tireur at the outposts, and
fight for my own hand. The only man in Norway who has stood up freely,
frankly, and courageously for me is Björnson. It is just like him. He
has in truth a great, kingly soul, and I shall never forget his action
in this matter."
One more quotation completes the history of these stirring January
days, as written by Ibsen himself. It occurs in a letter to a Danish
journalist, Otto Borchsenius. "It may well be," the poet writes, "that
the play is in several respects rather daring. But it seemed to me
that the time had come for moving some boundary-posts. And this was an
undertaking for which a man of the older generation, like myself, was
better fitted than the many younger authors who might desire to do
something of the kind. I was prepared for a storm; but such storms one
must not shrink from encountering. That would be cowardice."
It happened that, just in these days, the present writer had frequent
opportunities of conversing with Ibsen, and of hearing from his own lips
almost all the views expressed in the above extracts. He was especially
emphatic, I remember, in protesting against the notion that the opinions
expressed by Mrs. Alving or Oswald were to be attributed to himself. He
insisted, on the contrary, that Mrs. Alving's views were merely typical
of the moral chaos inevitably produced by re-action from the narrow
conventionalism represented by Manders.
With one consent, the leading theatres of the three Scandinavian
capitals declined to have anything to do with the play. It was more
than eighteen months old before it found its way to the stage at all. In
August 1883 it was acted for the first time at Helsingborg, Sweden, by
a travelling company under the direction of an eminent Swedish actor,
August Lindberg, who himself played Oswald. He took it on tour round the
principal cities of Scandinavia, playing it, among the rest, at a minor
theatre in Christiania. It happened that the boards of the Christiania
Theatre were at the same time occupied by a French farce; and public
demonstrations of protest were made against the managerial policy which
gave _Tête de Linotte_ the preference over _Gengangere_. Gradually the
prejudice against the play broke down. Already in the autumn of 1883 it
was produced at the Royal (Dramatiska) Theatre in Stockholm. When the
new National Theatre was opened in Christiania in 1899, _Gengangere_
found an early place in its repertory; and even the Royal Theatre in
Copenhagen has since opened its doors to the tragedy.
Not until April 1886 was _Gespenster_ acted in Germany, and then only at
a private performance, at the Stadttheater, Augsburg, the poet himself
being present. In the following winter it was acted at the famous Court
Theatre at Meiningen, again in the presence of the poet. The first
(private) performance in Berlin took place on January 9, 1887, at the
Residenz Theater; and when the Freie Bühne, founded on the model of the
Paris Theatre Libre, began its operations two years later (September 29,
1889), _Gespenster_ was the first play that it produced. The Freie Bühne
gave the initial impulse to the whole modern movement which has given
Germany a new dramatic literature; and the leaders of the movement,
whether authors or critics, were one and all ardent disciples of Ibsen,
who regarded _Gespenster_ as his typical masterpiece. In Germany,
then, the play certainly did, in Ibsen's own words, "move some
boundary-posts." The Prussian censorship presently withdrew its veto,
and on November 27, 1894, the two leading literary theatres of Berlin,
the Deutsches Theater and the Lessing Theater, gave simultaneous
performances of the tragedy. Everywhere in Germany and Austria it is
now freely performed; but it is naturally one of the least popular of
Ibsen's plays.
It was with _Les Revenants_ that Ibsen made his first appearance on the
French stage. The play was produced by the Théâtre Libre (at the
Théâtre des Menus-Plaisirs) on May 29, 1890. Here, again, it became the
watchword of the new school of authors and critics, and aroused a good
deal of opposition among the old school. But the most hostile French
criticisms were moderation itself compared with the torrents of abuse
which were poured upon _Ghosts_ by the journalists of London when, on
March 13, 1891, the Independent Theatre, under the direction of Mr. J.
T. Grein, gave a private performance of the play at the Royalty Theatre,
Soho. I have elsewhere [Note: See "The Mausoleum of Ibsen," _Fortnightly
Review_, August 1893. See also Mr. Bernard Shaw's _Quintessence of
Ibsenism_, p. 89, and my introduction to Ghosts in the single-volume
edition.] placed upon record some of the amazing feats of vituperation
achieved of the critics, and will not here recall them. It is sufficient
to say that if the play had been a tenth part as nauseous as the
epithets hurled at it and its author, the Censor's veto would have been
amply justified. That veto is still (1906) in force. England enjoys the
proud distinction of being the one country in the world where _Ghosts_
may not be publicly acted. In the United States, the first performance
of the play in English took place at the Berkeley Lyceum, New York City,
on January 5, 1894. The production was described by Mr. W. D. Howells as
"a great theatrical event--the very greatest I have ever known." Other
leading men of letters were equally impressed by it. Five years later, a
second production took place at the Carnegie Lyceum; and an adventurous
manager has even taken the play on tour in the United States. The
Italian version of the tragedy, _Gli Spettri_, has ever since 1892
taken a prominent place in the repertory of the great actors Zaccone and
Novelli, who have acted it, not only throughout Italy, but in Austria,
Germany, Russia, Spain, and South America.
In an interview, published immediately after Ibsen's death, Björnstjerne
Björnson, questioned as to what he held to be his brother-poet's
greatest work, replied, without a moment's hesitation, _Gengangere_.
This dictum can scarcely, I think, be accepted without some
qualification. Even confining our attention to the modern plays, and
leaving out of comparison _The Pretenders_, _Brand_, and _Peer Gynt_,
we can scarcely call _Ghosts_ Ibsen's richest or most human play, and
certainly not his profoundest or most poetical. If some omnipotent
Censorship decreed the annihilation of all his works save one, few
people, I imagine, would vote that that one should be _Ghosts_. Even if
half a dozen works were to be saved from the wreck, I doubt whether I,
for my part, would include _Ghosts_ in the list. It is, in my judgment,
a little bare, hard, austere. It is the first work in which Ibsen
applies his new technical method--evolved, as I have suggested, during
the composition of _A Doll's House_--and he applies it with something
of fanaticism. He is under the sway of a prosaic ideal--confessed in the
phrase, "My object was to make the reader feel that he was going through
a piece of real experience"--and he is putting some constraint upon
the poet within him. The action moves a little stiffly, and all in one
rhythm. It lacks variety and suppleness. Moreover, the play affords some
slight excuse for the criticism which persists in regarding Ibsen as a
preacher rather than as a creator--an author who cares more for ideas
and doctrines than for human beings. Though Mrs. Alving, Engstrand and
Regina are rounded and breathing characters, it cannot be denied that
Manders strikes one as a clerical type rather than an individual, while
even Oswald might not quite unfairly be described as simply and solely
his father's son, an object-lesson in heredity. We cannot be said to
know him, individually and intimately, as we know Helmer or Stockmann,
Hialmar Ekdal or Gregors Werle. Then, again, there are one or two
curious flaws in the play. The question whether Oswald's "case" is one
which actually presents itself in the medical books seems to me of very
trifling moment. It is typically true, even if it be not true in detail.
The suddenness of the catastrophe may possibly be exaggerated, its
premonitions and even its essential nature may be misdescribed. On the
other hand, I conceive it probable that the poet had documents to found
upon, which may be unknown to his critics. I have never taken any pains
to satisfy myself upon the point, which seems to me quite immaterial.
There is not the slightest doubt that the life-history of a Captain
Alving may, and often does, entail upon posterity consequences quite
as tragic as those which ensue in Oswald's case, and far more
wide-spreading. That being so, the artistic justification of the poet's
presentment of the case is certainly not dependent on its absolute
scientific accuracy. The flaws above alluded to are of another nature.
One of them is the prominence given to the fact that the Asylum
is uninsured. No doubt there is some symbolical purport in the
circumstance; but I cannot think that it is either sufficiently clear or
sufficiently important to justify the emphasis thrown upon it at the
end of the second act. Another dubious point is Oswald's argument in
the first act as to the expensiveness of marriage as compared with free
union. Since the parties to free union, as he describes it, accept all
the responsibilities of marriage, and only pretermit the ceremony, the
difference of expense, one would suppose, must be neither more nor less
than the actual marriage fee. I have never seen this remark of Oswald's
adequately explained, either as a matter of economic fact, or as a
trait of character. Another blemish, of somewhat greater moment, is the
inconceivable facility with which, in the third act, Manders suffers
himself to be victimised by Engstrand. All these little things, taken
together, detract, as it seems to me, from the artistic completeness of
the play, and impair its claim to rank as the poet's masterpiece. Even
in prose drama, his greatest and most consummate achievements were yet
to come.
Must we, then, wholly dissent from Björnson's judgment? I think not. In
a historical, if not in an aesthetic, sense, _Ghosts_ may well rank as
Ibsen's greatest work. It was the play which first gave the full measure
of his technical and spiritual originality and daring. It has done
far more than any other of his plays to "move boundary-posts." It has
advanced the frontiers of dramatic art and implanted new ideals, both
technical and intellectual, in the minds of a whole generation of
playwrights. It ranks with _Hernani_ and _La Dame aux Camélias_ among
the epoch-making plays of the nineteenth century, while in point of
essential originality it towers above them. We cannot, I think, get
nearer to the truth than Georg Brandes did in the above-quoted phrase
from his first notice of the play, describing it as not, perhaps, the
poet's greatest work, but certainly his noblest deed. In another essay,
Brandes has pointed to it, with equal justice, as marking Ibsen's final
breach with his early--one might almost say his hereditary romanticism.
He here becomes, at last, "the most modern of the moderns." "This, I am
convinced," says the Danish critic, "is his imperishable glory, and will
give lasting life to his works."