August Strindberg, the Spirit of Revolt: Studies and ImpressionsLind-af-Hageby, L. (Lizzy)
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August Strindberg, the Spirit of Revolt: Studies and Impressions
Lind-af-Hageby, L. (Lizzy)
Strindberg, August, 1849-1912
_Eric XIV_, the drama of the reign of the mad son of the sane King
Gustavus, is a masterpiece of life-like presentation. Searching
comparisons between the arts of Strindberg and Shakespeare are otiose.
But in the dramatic treatment of lunacy the author of _Eric XIV_ may
well be compared with the author of _Hamlet_, _Lear_, and _Macbeth_.
The dramatic verisimilitude of Strindberg's lunatics is made perfect
through an experiential familiarity with the nethermost adventures
of the mind, which Shakespeare lacked. In _Eric XIV_ the monomania
of persecution, the fitful _délires de grandeur_, the half-conscious
cruelty are drawn with a spontaneous realism which is heightened by
a terrible psychological accuracy of analysis. Strindberg has drawn
almost as many mad and half-mad folk as Shakespeare. He can describe
every form of mental derangement, and has not forgotten the soul
obsessed by God and, therefore, detached from the world. In _The Saga
of the Folkungs_ the Voice of the Unseen speaks through an obsessed
woman who sees the souls of people, and is able to reveal the hidden
treachery of those who surround King Magnus. "One must be mad," says
a barber in this play, "to have the courage to reveal all secrets at
once." In _Easter_, the most mystical of Strindberg's plays, he draws
an exquisite character of a young girl who is "mad," whose soul is pure
and lovely, and who sees and hears things that happen far away. To her,
also, all secrets are open; she can see the stars during the daytime,
and, though her head is "soft," her spirit dwells in the realms of
pure beauty. There is a fool in To Damascus; there is the frenzy of
despair in _The Father_. The novels _Remorse, At the Edge of the Sea_
and _The Gothic Rooms_ present a gallery of psycho-pathological types.
Strindberg's novelistic treatment of lunacy has a natural profuseness
of imagination, not unlike that of E.T.A. Hoffmann and Dostoevsky. It
therefore bears little resemblance to the more artificial composition,
typified by Paul Hervieu's _L'Inconnu_ or Guy de Maupassant's _Le
Horla_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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