TragicDramas

Asbjørn Aarseth University of Bergen

IBSEN’S TWO MOST TRAGIC DRAMAS

At first sight it seems a lot easier to see the differences than to discover similarities between plays by Ibsen and plays belonging to the ancient tradition of Greek tragedies. Yet since ‘tragedy’ is a Greek concept, and since European drama originated in the Greek cultural context, a comparison between Ibsen and the Greeks in terms of structural elements is by no means farfetched.

First of all we need a concept of tragedy rooted in the ancient Greek tradition, but which is open enough to apply to essential qualities which can be found in dramatic literature written at later stages of European history. We should probably not be looking for a detailed and definitive concept, but rather try to establish some key qualities which may be said to linger on in varying ways in the works of successive generations of playwrights. Similar to what is the case with other literary genres, the form referred to as tragedy has been subject to an ongoing and at some points significant historical change over the centuries – from the processions of dancers and singers with goat’s heads to the stage performances by actors speaking verse or prose dialogue. During the Renaissance some practitioners regretted the loss of singing, and this gave rise to a new kind of theatre performance, or the restoration of the old tragedy, the opera. The significance of the opera as an heir to tragedy in the nineteenth century is discussed by George Steiner in his The Death of Tragedy (1961). Ibsen, on the other hand, is seen by Steiner as the beginning of something new in the history of drama (op.cit., 290). Obviously it all depends on how we understand the concept of tragedy.

In Aristotle’s Poetics we find certain principles laid down for the construction of the best tragedies. Aristotle claims that Mythos, a concept which has been translated in various ways, such as Fable, Plot, traditional story, and action, is the most important among the six different parts which make up a tragedy. He recommends that the tragic emotions of horror and pity should be aroused by the structure of the action, not by the spectacle (1453 b): “The Plot in fact should be so framed that, even without seeing the things take place, he who simply hears the account of them shall be filled with horror and pity at the incidents” (Aristotle 1954, 239 f). A further point is that complex plots, that is with an action including Peripety and Discovery, should be preferred. This recommendation is examplified by a reference to Oedipus Rex, where the Discovery is attended by Peripeties (Aristotle 1954, 237). Discovery is explained as a change from ignorance to knowledge, such as the protagonist facing a character whom he does not recognize to begin with, and whose identity is suddenly revealed. This kind of Discovery, entailing a Peripety, should “arise out of the structure of the Plot itself, so as to be the consequence, necessary or probable, of the antecedents” (Aristotle 1954, 236).

According to Aristotle, Discovery, or recognition, has the greatest tragic potential when it happens in terms of the revelation of identity to members of the same family: Enemies killing each other will not arouse pity or horror in an ancient Greek audience. “Whenever the tragic deed [...] is done within the family – when murder or the like is done or meditated by brother on brother, by son on father, by mother on son, or son on mother – these are the situations the poet should seek after” (Aristotle 1954, 240). Such deeds can be done as a premeditated act, in revenge for some earlier deed, as when Orestes kills his mother Clytaimnestra. In Aristotle’s opinion this is not the optimal case for a tragedy, however: “A better situation than that [...] is for the deed to be done in ignorance, and the relationship discovered afterwards...” (Aristotle 1954, 241).

In Ibsen’s second attempt at composing a serious drama, Lady Inger (w. 1854), we have this kind of ending which may give rise to the question whether the effect is a tragic one. The family at the centre of events does not represent the average Norwegian family. Lady Inger is a widow with a number of married and unmarried daughters. We are in the 1520s, on the threshold of the Reformation, and the country suffers from a fateful lack of candidates for the national leadership, while both Denmark and Sweden have dynasties that are in the process of consolidating their power and at the same time more or less openly aiming at the vacant Norwegian throne. The social level of the main characters corresponds to that of most Greek tragedies, as well as nearly all tragedies since the Renaissance (plays by Shakespeare, Racine, Schiller etc.), where the central families are representing royal dynasties. This fact has to do with the consideration that the acts and the destinies of characters belonging to the power elite tend to be of greater consequence to the life and welfare of the common people of the nation or the region, so that the tragic potential of such events are more impressive in the eyes of the spectators. This principle of social level is not discussed by Aristotle, but it is dealt with by Francis Fergusson in his book The Idea of a Theater (1949, p. 117 and passim).

The 1850s was a decade filled with a strong national spirit among the cultural elite in the Scandinavian countries, Ibsen was looking for a subject which contained dramatic force as well as the potential for tragic action. He landed on the history of Lady Inger, although he felt both entitled and obliged to add a couple of inventions to what the sources reported. In Ibsen’s version Lady Inger has a secret son whom she some 20 years earlier had left as a new-born baby to grow up in Sweden. Her deliberations in 1528 are governed by her ambition to see her son on the throne of Norway, and if possible on that of Sweden as well. Then, on a dark and stormy November night a young Swede arrives at the castle of Østråt without being properly introduced. The ruthless lady fears that he may be a dangerous rival to her son, so she orders him killed. Only when his dead body is brought on to the stage in the final scene and a ring he has been carrying is revealed, does she recognize her son.

The story of Lady Inger is made up of a series of coincidences, involving such things as the nearly simultaneous arrival of expected as well as unexpected guests, leading to mistaken identities, and an important letter falling into the hands of the Danish envoy. In this way the sense of inevitability, by Aristotle considered a quality inherent in the best of the classical tragedies, is not part of the effect. The death of the young man at the order of his mother is of course a shocking event by any standard, and in the final scene, on discovering the identity of the youth, the mother is completely crushed. And yet precisely because of the high level of unfortunate accidental circumstances it is possible to argue that this drama is not genuinely tragic in the sense of the ancient Greek tradition. Rather it should probably be classified as pathetic, which is a term sometimes also applied to the end of Romeo and Juliet, where equally much regarding life or death for the two main characters depends on coincidence.

III

Looking for an Ibsen drama with a more genuinely tragic effect, we move on to the modern plays. Most modern readers of Ibsen would probably consider Ghosts in the first place. Here, just as in Lady Inger, we find a rather special mother – son relationship. Francis Fergusson, who is somewhat ambiguous regarding the formal virtues of Ghosts compared to the work of the Greek masters of tragedy as well as the plays of Shakespeare and Racine, maintains that the action of this play can be defined in terms of Mrs. Alving’s purpose – which is “to control the Alving heritage for [her] own life” (Fergusson 1949, 150). In my opinion one would have to expand this formula and include her plans regarding Osvald; so much is she investing in a future for him. The purpose of building an Orphanage has been to invest in a foundation, the part of the heritage brought into the marriage by the late Chamberlain. The rest of the property, corresponding to the result of Mrs Alving’s own efforts over the years, is at her disposal, just as the son, she feels, is for her alone to take care of.

Fergusson does see tragic elements in Ghosts, comparing this play to Oedipus Rex. What happens is that the past, which could not be eliminated by means of some financial arrangements, is coming back on more than one level in the light of the present action. It is this futile fight of Mrs. Alving against the lingering or returning past which renders her quest tragic. But Fergusson is not fully satisfied; he points to a certain amount of concessions on the part of Ibsen to literary trends developed in the nineteenth century, concessions which cause damage to the lasting effect of the drama:

At the end of the play the tragic rhythm of Mrs. Alving’s quest is not so much completed as brutally truncated, in obedience to the requirements of the thesis and the thriller. Osvald’s collapse, before our eyes, with his mother screaming, makes the intrigue end with a bang, and hammers home the thesis (Fergusson 1949, 151).

The negative influence which according to Fergusson is responsible for this shortcoming is Modern Realism. In my opinion this concept is not very helpful when we are dealing with matters such as tragic action or poetry in the theatre. Fergusson does see poetry and tragedy in Ghosts, but he observes that these qualities are overshadowed by other elements: “The exciting intrigue and the brilliantly, the violently clear surfaces of Ghosts are likely to obscure completely its real life and underlying form” (Fergusson 1949, 152). It must be a challenge for the critic and the scholar to penetrate the surface and reveal the treasures of this dramatic form, its real life.

A similar position is held by George Steiner, writing his book on The Death of Tragedy 12 years later. Ibsen wrote his plays in a kind of mythological vacuum, according to Steiner, and had to invent an effective language and a context of ideological meaning for his work: “... he had to devise the symbols and theatrical conventions whereby to communicate his meaning to an audience corrupted by the easy virtues of the realistic stage” (Steiner, 1961, 293). So the literary movement referred to as Realism did not facilitate the writing of tragedy, and Ibsen, if such writing was his ambition, had to make extra efforts.

Taking a closer look at Ghosts and comparing this play to Lady Inger, we have to relinquish the principle of representational character, aristocracy or royalty, which does not apply to Ibsen’s modern prose plays. Yet there are in a play such as Ghosts other qualities which are similar to those of the early drama of Lady Inger. The main parallel is the relationship of mother and son in the two plays – first and foremost the ambition of the mother on behalf of her son. Mrs. Alving is not aspiring towards royalty for Osvald, but towards complete freedom, independence of the paternal inheritance in every way. She reveals her determination regarding Osvald’s future to Pastor Manders: “Everything my son inherits will come from me, and no one else” (Fjelde 1965, 231).

Neither Lady Inger nor Mrs. Alving manage to realize their ambitions. Yet there are essential differences in the way they fail. Lady Inger is unable to recognize the young Nils Stenssøn who comes to her imploring for protection. Mrs. Alving has been in touch with Osvald several times since he was sent away from home to be raised by foster parents before he was seven years old. Her main strategy regarding the son has been protection at all costs. Had he stayed on in his parents’ home, he would have been severely exposed to the bad influence of his depraved father.

His mother is very happy to have him back at Rosenvold. In this play there is no direct mistake of identity, but in a way Mrs. Alving does not know her son as well as a mother normally would. As a consequence of her determined efforts to protect him from the unhealthy influence of his father, he also has become estranged from herself. The dramatic process which constitutes much of the three acts of Ghosts is filled with Mrs. Alving’s growing awareness regarding the impossibility of escaping from the past. This is the meaning of the title in the original, not ‘ghosts’, or Gespenster, or Spettri, but Gengangere, that is ‘people or things that return from the past’; appearances, acts, even physical conditions which tend to haunt the garden room of the Rosenvold mansion, where Mrs. Alving used to feel safe and in complete control. This is the tragic irony of the drama. Sending Osvald away has not had the intended effect. It may have increased his health risk, and he returns seriously ill.

The parallel to the tragic development in the myth of Oedipus, clearly intended by Ibsen, can be illustrated by the choice of words for the act of Osvald’s mother when she decided to remove him from his father: she “satte ham ud” – literally: she ‘sat him out’, put him outside, exposed him. This is what King Laios and Queen Iocasta decided to do with their new-born son on hearing the message of the Oracle about his future acts; in the Danish translation the words “å sette ud” are used, the same as when referring to the ancient custom concerning children the parents for some reason wanted to get rid of. Mrs. Alving’s (and Pastor Manders’) choice of words at this point is conspicuous, since they are merely talking about the little boy being sent to foster parents, not at all intending to let him die.

On first seeing Osvald entering the stage smoking his father’s pipe, Pastor Manders one moment thinks that what he is seeing is the return of the late chamberlain. Mrs Alving refuses to see the particular likeness of the son to his father. As the action unfolds, however, it becomes clear that Osvald has inherited not only the physical appearance of his father, but significant aspects of his life style as well, including smoking cigars, drinking liqueur, and lusting for the maid of the house. A more fatal inheritance is the illness he is suffering from, a condition from which there is no escape. Gradually Mrs. Alving is brought to realize that there is no way out, and at the same time she understands that she herself is in part responsible for the excesses and the consequent declining health of her husband, which has had a corresponding effect on the condition of her son. Osvald’s destiny, his illness beyond recovery, is not in itself a tragic element in the plot; rather it should be characterized as pathetic. He is innocent, and he cannot entertain any hope. The tragic protagonist is Mrs. Alving, who is forced to recognize her guilt as well as her true situation of a mother who must choose between giving her son his deadly poison or nursing him in his utterly abominable condition of helplessness.

In Ghosts the mechanism of vengeance in terms of the transferability of venereal diseases has by some critics been felt to be depending on some problematic medical theory, in this way replacing the punishing acts of the gods in ancient times with more prosaic causes, and thus reducing the tragic effect. It still is the past, however, striking back on the present, regardless of the metaphysical overtones. The next drama where the past has a similarly fateful part to play, and where a certain modern theory has been applied to throw light on the plot development, is Rosmersholm.

We can observe the same basic conflict in the story of the former pastor Johannes Rosmer and his lady friend Rebecca West as in the story of Mrs. Alving at Rosenvold. In both cases there is the quest for freedom, for a life independent of restraining family traditions, in an existence where the past should have no bearing on the present. And in both cases the rejection of the family ties turns out to be in vain (cf. Bull 1932, 313 and Paul, 1993, 80). In Rosmersholm, however, there is no mother. On the other hand, there are several references to fathers and forefathers.

The similarity between Ghosts and Rosmersholm, which has been noted by several commentators, can be illustrated by suggesting that the title of ‘Ghosts’ may be more suitable for the play Rosmersholm than it is for Ghosts. The drafts to Rosmersholm carries the title of ‘White Horses’, referring to a tradition about the appearance of a ghostlike white horse each time somebody on the estate is approaching death.

In both plays we may distinguish between two levels of cultural formation or intellectual habit. The main characters present themselves as modern, rational people with liberal attitudes. In addition to this group or class of character there is a more conservative kind, represented by Pastor Manders and the headmaster Kroll, who are sceptical about the liberal tendencies of the main characters. In addition to this distinction there is in Rosmersholm a third kind, the housekeeper, Madam Helseth. She seems to represent the beliefs and forebodings of the common people, as well as the link to local custom and folklore. More than one commentator has suggested that her part comes close to that of the chorus in ancient Greek tragedy. She is more closely attached to what we may call the spirit of the estate. As an elderly housekeeper she seems to be loyal to the traditions guarded by the former inhabitants of the mansion, who make their presence felt in the form of old and more recent portraits hanging on the wall of the living room, representing solemn clergymen, military officers and public officials in uniform. These austere faces of the past may be regarded as a silent, but not insignificant chorus, and Madam Helseth, the representative of the estate, is in a certain sense their spokeswoman, their coryphaeus.

This quality of past spirits watching the ongoings of the present is peculiar to Rosmersholm. In some of the Greek tragedies there is a similar oppressive atmosphere, usually in the form of a collective damnation applying to all the descendants of a royal family, due to the wrath of the gods provoked by some atrocious act committed by a dominant forefather. This is the case with the descendants of Atreus, king of Mycenæ, father of Agamemnon and Menelaos, as well as with the descendants of Labdakos, king of Thebes, father of Laios and grandfather of Oedipus. Ibsen may have been aiming at a similar effect regarding individual characters fighting in vain to liberate themselves from such unbearable conditions.

According to Madam Helseth talking to Rebecca West the influence of the place Rosmersholm on the individuals belonging to the estate is formative in a peculiar way:

MADAM HELSETH. Children never cry at Rosmersholm, miss.

REBECCA (looking at her). Never cry?

MADAM HELSETH. Here in this house children have never been known to cry as long as anyone can remember.

REBECCA. That’s strange.

MADAM HELSETH. Yes, isn’t it? But it’s in the family. And there’s another strange thing. When they grow up, they never laugh. Never, as long as they live.

REBECCA. How extraordinary –

MADAM HELSETH. Have you ever once seen or heard the Pastor laugh? (Fjelde 1965, 551).

It is not easy to find an idea about a similar effect in other dramas. What seems to come closest may be the cases of collective damnation applying to certain royal families in Greek mythology.

The changes which have been taking place in the lives of Rosmer and Rebecca, ever since the arrival of the young woman, can be seen as a result of Rebecca’s determined efforts to replace Beate as the wife of the Pastor. But some time after the death of Beate, when Rebecca’s aim seems to be within reach, she suddenly changes her mind and rejects Rosmer’s offer to marry her. This is a conspicuously dramatic peripety. Seen as a representation of a psychological reaction this incident has been discussed in psychological terms. In itself this may be a quite legitimate approach, but it has no relation to the concept of tragedy.

An alternative explanation could be the mythological one, having to do with some kind of supernatural influence of the old mansion on the people living there. To reject such an explanation on the ground that it is based on popular superstition, is, I think, beside the point. It would be to ignore the fact that we are dealing here not with a case history, not with modern science, but with dramatic illusion. As long as we are regarding the text in the light of the ancient concept of tragedy, we are not observing the acts and experiences of real people, but rather the rhetorical effects on spectators or readers by the behaviour of characters on the stage. Regarding the matter as a psychologically accountable phenomenon involves a different interest. When we discuss the concept of tragedy, we move in the sphere of beliefs and illusions, as do the characters themselves, more or less.

In Ghosts the main tragic effect has to do with the tragic irony experienced by Mrs. Alving. Her acts of protecting her son cannot save him from the influence or the inheritance of his father; rather they accelerate the deterioration of Osvald’s health. In Rosmersholm the tragic effect is inherent in the ominous power residing in the walls of the mansion itself. While Rosmer because of the liberating impulses of Rebecca West has been able gradually to leave his original stand and approach a position of positive belief in the human capacity for nobility of character, Rebecca has more and more come under the spell of the local spirits, which have prevented her own liberation. We do not have to understand this literally. The local spirits have been residing in the last decendant of the Rosmer family. To be loved by Rosmer is no longer Rebecca’s purpose. She explains to him that she has been ennobled through his influence. Her will has been infected by the Rosmer way of life. The nobility she has obtained has killed happiness. Rebecca realizes that the ennobling process has brought back something in her past. Her conscience is activated; she recognizes her guilt. We may guess that it has to do with her obscure relation to Dr. West, her former lover who also was her biological father, as she now knows.

Some English translations (The Oxford Ibsen, and Fjelde) bring up Rebecca’s need to experience innocence once again, the “ground of all joy and contentment” (Fjelde 1965, 576). Ibsen does not use the word uskyld (‘innocence’), but skyldfrihed (‘freedom from guilt’). A guilty person can never acquire innocence. But through atonement the guilt can be lifted off the shoulders of the individual, and freedom can be achieved. This is the only possible solution for Rebecca, and it means to go the same way Beate went. Atonement is a religious term, as it is a term which applies to the solution of tragedies. And if Rebecca goes the way of Beate, so will Rosmer; he takes her to be his wife, and husband and wife must go together.

Both Ghosts and Rosmersholm have tragic qualities, more than any other play by Ibsen, and in both cases the tragic effect has to do with the return of the past to haunt characters who had imagined that it would be possible to escape from it. In Ghosts, where Ibsen seems to have chosen Oedipus Rex as his model, the tragic irony is felt more strongly than in Rosmersholm. On the other hand Rosmersholm is playing more on the tragic effect of the will to atone; the characters of this drama are able to analyse their situation to a greater extent and discover that there is only one possible outcome if they want to be free.

References

Aristotle 1954. Rhetoric, Translated by W. Rhys Roberts. Poetics, Translated by Ingram Bywater. New York, The Modern Library.

Bull, Francis 1932. «Innledning [til Rosmersholm]». In Henrik Ibsen, Samlede verker [Hundreårsujtgaven], 10, 313–40.

Fergusson, Francis 1949. The Idea of a Theater. A Study of Ten Plays. The Art of Drama in Changing Perspective. Princeton, New Jersey, Princeton University Press.

Fjelde, Rolf 1965. Ibsen. The Complete Major Prose Plays. Translated and Introduced by Rolf Fjelde. New York and Scarborough, Ontario.

Paul, Fritz 1993. «Familie som skjebne i Ibsen’s Gengangere og Rosmersholm». Nordica vol. 10, 71–89.

Steiner, George 1961. The Death of Tragedy. London.

I tillegg til dette kan det synes som en viktig kilde for Ibsen med hensyn til Rosmersholm er Kierkegaards Enten-Eller, hvor han drøfter forskjellen mellom antikk og moderne tragedie. Særlig Brandes’ presentasjon av Kierkegaards viktigste poenger fra dette arbeidet viser et interessant aspekt: Slik skriver Brandes i sin Kierkegaard-bok fra 1877, Samlede Skrifter, Bd. 2, s. 300 f.:

Afhandlingens Grundtanke er kortelig den, at den græske Tragedie lod Helt eller Heltinde lide under Følgerne af en Skyld, som snarere hvilede paa Slægten end paa den Enkelte alene; at den moderne Tragedie gaar glip af det dybest Gribende, i det Øjeblik den udskiller den Enkelte af Forbindelsen med Familie og Slægt og lader ham være sin egen Lykkes Smed og sin egen Ulykkes Ophav; men at Tragedien vilde genvinde det i Sandhed Tragiske, hvis den paany vilde optage den antike Grundfølelse, Pieteten, gennem hvilken Mennesket netop forholder sig til Samfund og Slægt.