A different breed of Man

In 1888, famous Swedish writer August Strindberg plus family spent the summer in Denmark, at the 18^th century Skovlyst palace at Holte. Strindberg, who I assume was quite the character, was soon embroiled in a bitter conflict with the head of the palace staff, Ludvig Hansen. Hansen accused Strindberg of sleeping around with one of the maids, 16-year old Martha Magdalene, who was also Hansen´s half-sister. Apparently, Hansen´s violent outbursts scared Strindberg into leaving the palace prematurely. Later, he filed a formal complaint with the Danish authorities, accusing Hansen of theft. Then, nothing much happened, Strindberg with family simply leaving the country.

Or so poor Hansen imagined…

In 1889, Strindberg had a novella published in Denmark. Titled “Tschandala”, it´s nominally about the conflict between a cultivated 17^th century Swedish intellectual and a suspicious-looking Scanian palace administrator (Scania or Skåne was a Danish province until the 17^th century). Anyone who knew the local gossip about the Hansen fracas immediately recognized the references. Yes, it was Strindberg´s answer to Hansen´s accusations, republished on a semi-regular basis ever since as part of the famous author´s collected works. Clearly, messing around with August Strindberg came with a price! (The Swedish version wasn´t published until 1897.)

As already indicated, the plot is set in late 17^th century Sweden. The main character, Andreas Törner, is a learned university teacher who is forced to spend a summer in Scania, a former Danish territory annexed by the Swedish great power. Törner and his family rent rooms at a nearby palace, administered by a certain Jensen, who is married to the aristocratic widow owning the estate. Jensen turns out to be a “Gypsy” or “Traveler” (Strindberg uses the politically incorrect designations “zigenare” and “tattare”. The latter in particular is considered strongly derogatory). He is depicted as a lower breed of man, a chandala or pariah, constantly surrounded by filth and foul stenches. The palace and its adjacent gardens are run down, the animals have nothing to eat, and the administrator´s main activity seems to be stealing (and sometimes eating) other animals from nearby farms. His family are a clan of bandits, and heavy drinking orgies are the main order of the day. Like many other low-lives, Jensen imagines himself to be a man of culture, worth and education, but of course looks comic or pathetic compared to Törner, described as an “Aryan”. Jensen is also something of a pimp – he wants his daughter Magelone to enter an illicit sexual relationship with Törner. Soon, the Aryan and the Gypsy are at each other´s throats in something that is presumably supposed to be a psychological thriller. Jensen burglarizes Törner´s rented room, threatens his children, tries to get him framed for theft, and so on. Törner fights back as best he can. At one point in the narrative, the Aryan reveals that Jensen´s wife isn´t really an aristocrat at all, but the daughter of a common harlot, thereby punctuating Jensen´s insolent pretensions at being part of the nobility. It also punctuates Jensen´s Gypsy pride, since it means that a non-Gypsy “gypped” *him* rather than the other way around. (It´s part of the plot that Jensen believes his wife to actually be a noblewoman, and therefore regards his marriage with her as his best Gypsy scam.)

An interesting detail with the story, is that Törner (who is Strindberg´s alter ego, remember?) *does* have sex with Magelone (really Hansen´s teenage sister Martha Magdalene). Magelone is described as extremely ugly, and sex with her as borderline bestiality. Törner´s body and soul are soiled by the experience, while the Gypsy of course sees it as a great success for his intrigues. In the end, Törner decides to get rid of Jensen. Playing on the Gypsy´s superstitions and fears, Törner projects pictures of ghosts which profoundly shock Jensen and reduce him to a babbling fool. In a climactic scene, a ghost-like image of a dog appears, inducing the starving dogs of the palace to attack the distraught pariah, tearing him to pieces. “The Aryan had emerged victorious”.

How much of the story is true? This sounds like a silly question – everyone assumes that it´s character assassination pure and simple – but in his private letters, Strindberg at least pretended that “Tschandala” told the truth, with the obvious exception of the climactic murder scene. He claims that Hansen actually was a Gypsy, defrauded Strindberg of money for the rent, and then drove him away from the palace. A Gypsy orchestra, a burglary into Strindberg´s rented room, and huge aggressive dogs played a prominent part in the psychological warfare. In his letters, Strindberg admits that he did have sex with the maid, but claims that she was 18 years old (and hence presumably legal to mount). The letter includes a portrait of Martha Magdalene, drawn by Strindberg himself, depicting an ugly and slightly obese nude female. She was also “very hairy”. Strindberg also claims that the aristocratic lady who owned Skovlyst was a brothel owner!

For obvious reasons, “Tschandala: berättelse från 1600-talet” (the Swedish title), is often considered to be Strindberg´s absolutely worst work, due to its explicit anti-Gypsy or anti-Traveler racism. While the anti-Ziganism is (of course) obvious, the work has further dimensions, equally disturbing to modern readers (and also to “progressive” Strindberg aficionados – the famous writer is often regarded as a man of the left). “Tschandala” is a Nietzschean story, with Törner-Strindberg cast in the role of Übermensch. The word in the title comes from Nietzsche´s “The Anti-Christ”, where he uses it profusely. In Hinduism, the chandalas are one of the untouchable castes. Equality is said to be impossible, since there really are different breeds of men. Even more disturbingly, inequality has to be *consciously created*. The “tschandalas” are filthy because they have been *forced* into the gutter by Manu´s laws. Also, the only way for the Aryans to flourish is by oppressing the “tschandalas”, thereby turning them into manure for the sprouting of the elite intelligentsia. In the novella, Törner has to set aside his Christian convictions and veneer of civilization in order to embrace his true nature as an Overman. Only by dispensing with societal conventions can he hope to defeat the out-cast Gypsy. It´s also interesting that Törner is described as a progressive. He is opposed to the autocratic rule of Swedish king Karl XI, and it´s implied at several points that he is an atheist. Strindberg presumably didn´t see any contradiction between a certain kind of leftism and the elitism of Friedrich Nietzsche.

With that, I end this review.

A funny novel with a Hyde side

Kymmendö today

August Strindberg (who died in 1912) is the most succesful Swedish writer ever. His novels and theaterplays have been translated to many different languages. This particular novel, first published in 1887, has even been translated to the artificial language Esperanto!

In Sweden, "The people of Hemsö" ("Hemsöborna" in Swedish) is still immensely popular. I think most Swedes have read it. It's readily available in public libraries all over Sweden.

August Strindberg was something of a rebel most of his life. He was drawn to unconventional, anti-establishment ideas such as Nietzscheanism and Theosophy. Very late in life, he proclaimed himself a "Christian socialist" and expressed support for the labor movement. By contrast, the novel "Hemsöborna" is Strindberg's most conventional and non-political work. Perhaps this explains its enduring popularity. Strindberg even made a point of the novel's non-political character in a letter to his publisher. Many believe that Strindberg wrote "Hemsöborna" mostly because he needed cash. If so, it proved to be a lucky strike.

"Hemsöborna" is a combination of novel and ethnography. The characters and the plot are based on real people and real events. Strindberg had spent considerable time at Kymmendö, an island in the Stockholm Archipelago. He knew everything about "the village gossip". Later, he turned it into a novel. The people at Kymmendö (called Hemsö in the novel) were so upset about it, that they stopped Strindberg from ever returning to the island. Everybody else got a good laugh reading "Hemsöborna", with its intimate descriptions of bickering farmers and fishermen, extra-marital affairs and one particularly down-and-out priest.

I've never read the English translation, but in contrast to Strindberg's other works, "Hemsöborna" must be relatively easy to translate. It may be of some interest to Swedish-Americans who want to know how at least some Swedish farmers lived during the 19th century.

At the same time, I suspect that even this non-political novel has some kind of hidden message. Behind the humorous facade, life at Hemsö turns out to be dog-eat-dog. If you're stupid, you're eaten. If you fall, you're eaten even faster. The main characters are Madam Flood, her son Gusten and a stranger from the mainland named Carlsson. Gusten is portrayed as stupid and backward. Instead of taking care of Madam Flood's farm, which he will one day inherit, he spends most of his time fishing for subsistence and hunting for fun. Meanwhile, the farm deteriorates and the cows starve. Into this mess comes Carlsson, an expert farmer from the mainland, hired by Madam Flood. Through hard work and intelligence, Carlsson puts the farm back in order. He then marries Madam Flood and convinces her to disinherit Gusten. But when Carlsson is unfaithful with one of the maids, Madam Flood gives the farm back to Gusten, and then promptly dies. Carlsson is suddenly left destitute. On the way to Madam Flood's funeral, a terrible blizzard rocks the Archipelago. Gusten, the born hunter and fisherman, survives while poor Carlsson gets lost and dies. In the end, neither hard work, wits or even rank dishonesty pays. Who wins is decided by pure co-incidence. Thus, "Hemsobörna" could be read as a "Darwinist" novel.

Somehow, there is a Hyde side lurking here.

Madness and suicide by the open sea

August Strindberg (who died in 1912) is often regarded as the greatest Swedish writer ever. He was certainly one of the most succesful. His main works have been translated to the major European languages, including English. Some of his works have even been translated to more obscure languages like Lithuanian, Hungarian or the artificial language Esperanto. In Sweden, his works are readily available in public libraries. Personally, however, I have only read two of his novels and one of his theater plays. I can't say I'm exactly thrilled. But then, I hate to read something just to look "intellectual". And here in Sweden, all "intellectuals" presumably read Strindberg, Schopenhauer and Dostoyevsky.

"By the Open Sea" is an English translation of Strindberg's novel "I havsbandet", originally published in 1890. Translating Strindberg to English must be a real attitude test, and since I've never read this translation, I can't vouch for it. I've only read the Swedish original, and that too was tough.

"I havsbandet" is often described as a Nietzschean novel. Indeed, the main character, a government bureaucrat named Borg, does regard himself as a Nietzschean Übermensch or Superman, and despises the rest of humanity. Borg is sent to a small island in the Stockholm Archipelago, Österskär, to aid the fishermen in developing new technologies and fishing methods. He also helps them build new and better houses. However, the islanders turn out to be primitive, stupid and superstitious. They simply don't want to be helped. Even when Borg saves them from a famine, they still remain ungrateful. And when Borg shows them one of his inventions, they interpret it religiously and start an evangelical revival! Finally, Borg experieces a mental break-down, becomes insane and commits suicide by steering his small boat out onto the open sea. Symbolically, the suicide takes place on Christmas Eve, the day the weakling god of weakling men, Jesus, is celebrated. By contrast, Borg steers his tiny vessel in the direction of the star constellation of Hercules, a much better and heathen god, according to Strindberg. Most people who've read this novel strongly suspect that "Borg" is actually Strindberg's alter ego. Indeed, Strindberg himself got a mental break-down and experienced a religious crisis shortly after the novel was published. Incidentally, Nietzsche himself ended up at a mental asylum.

The message of this novel is a pessimistic one. Borg may be a Superman, but he is nevertheless broken by the mediocrity and stupidity of the sub-humans. In the end, more or less voluntary self-destruction becomes the only option for those who have managed to rise above the herd. The fate of the Übermensch is ultimately a tragic one.

Fair enough, but then what?

An orgy of human suffering

August Strindberg (1849-1912) is universally considered to be the best Swedish writer ever. Personally, I consider him to be somewhat overrated as a writer and extremely unsympathetic as a human being. His only redeeming trait was his opposition to Greater Swedish nationalism, not an academic issue during his lifetime. At the end of his career, Strindberg also expressed support for the labour movement.

Otherwise, he was a really raving misogynist, a psychological wreck, and very pseudoscientific. He actually believed that the Earth was flat, and that the corn crake (a species of bird) had supernatural abilities. Another strange idea of his was that the cross of Christ could be seen in a certain nebula on the night sky. He also wondered why roses and lilies were mysteriously drawn to human graves. (Because people plant them there?) Strindberg's personal philosophy went from bad to strange, as he replaced a kind of Nietzscheanism with a highly idiosyncratic version of Christianity, based on the religious visions of Swedenborg and material from the Theosophists.

Frankly, I would never buy anything written by this troubled soul. Luckily, I happen to work right above a large book warehouse, and occasionally scavenge their garbage containers for interesting books. Just this Friday, I found seven volumes of Strindberg's works, in almost mint condition. A very Strindbergesque situation, don't you think?

I cannot vouch for this particular translation of "The Dream Play" and "The Dance of Death", since I have only read them in Swedish. This review is therefore based on the Swedish originals. What on earth "The Link" might be, I honestly don't know. Nothing even resembling that title shows up in the Swedish bibliographies of Strindberg's works. Perhaps I didn't look deep enough in that container?

"The Dance of Death" (1901) and "The Dream Play" (1902) were written very late in Strindberg's life. The old man had undergone a religious conversion of sorts. "The Dance of Death" is to some extent still a naturalist drama, but it has a strong religious or quasi-religious undertone. "The Dream Play" is not naturalist at all, and the spiritual message is explicit. Both plays give a pessimistic view of human life, but at least "The Dance of Death" has a happy ending. Or should have, since the second part of the play is rarely performed. I hope it's included in this English translation!

The main characters of "The Dance of Death" are named Edgar and Alice. They have been married for 25 years, and are about to celebrate their silver anniversary. However, the couple has very little to celebrate. Their marriage has always been unhappy, and they spend their entire waking time pestering each other. Since they live on a military outpost on a small island, they rarely meet anyone else. The situation slowly gets out of hand with the arrival of Kurt, a cousin of Alice from the mainland. During the climax of the play, it looks as if Alice is finally going to break free of Edgar, who almost dies after an unsuccessful attempt to kill her. However, after recovering, husband and wife forgive each other, and everything goes back to normal. In other words, business as usual pestering! It's strongly implied that the island is actually Hell, and Edgar is referred to several times as a vampire. Kurt also gets a bout of vampirism, but overall, he sounds like a Christian, claiming that one shouldn't repay evil with evil, but rather patiently wait for some higher power to dispense justice.

The second part of the play (the one theatres seldom perform) is more optimistic. Edgar continues with his usual intrigues, this time directed at both Kurt and his son Allan. Another new arrival on the island is Judith, Edgar's and Alice's daughter. Initially, she is just as obnoxious and manipulative as Edgar. In the end, she falls in love with Allan, the conspiracies of Edgar come to nothing, and the old vampire promptly dies. The other protagonists then forgive Edgar in good old Christian fashion, and manages to leave the island. Or is it Hell? Note also the Biblical symbolism of the name Judith, a character from the Apocrypha who slays the evil Holophernes. Without this second part, "The Dance of Death" is almost morbidly dark and pessimistic, and it sure makes you wonder why the happy ending isn't performed as often as the first part? As a gossipy side point, many Strindberg experts believe that the dysfunctional marriage between Alice and Edgar is based on real characters: Strindberg's sister Anna and her husband Hugo von Philp. Strindberg hated the latter in particular, even more so after his religious conversion, since Philp was an atheist and rationalist.

"The Dream Play" is less straightforward. It's also more pessimistic. The main character is Agnes, who turns out to be the daughter of the Vedic god Indra. For some reason, Agnes wants to visit Earth and study the behaviour of humans. She experiences poverty, a loveless marriage, and meets a number of pathetic human beings, including a poor officer who is constantly waiting for his sweet heart Victoria to come out and join him (it's unclear whether Victoria even exists). The play becomes progressively more surrealistic as Agnes visits what is presumably Heaven and Hell. In the end, the difference between them seems somewhat moot! At various points in the play, a mysterious door appears, a door behind which the solution to the riddle of existence is supposedly hidden. The door is eventually opened, but we never really learn what's behind it, and the humans who peek inside refuse to accept the answer. Strindberg implies that there really isn't anything at all behind the door (i.e. Nirvana). Humanity is lambasted for having killed "the son of Indra", obviously Jesus. Agnes then burns herself on a funeral pyre, promising to take the complaints of humanity back to her heavenly father. If she ever did, and if anyone gave a damn, is never explained.

I can't say I liked these plays. They are orgies of human suffering, where everything constantly repeats itself, almost reincarnation-like. The only solutions offered are a pious faith in providence (in "The Dance of Death") or exit to oblivion (in "The Dream Play").

I think I'm going to read something else next weekend. A Marvel Comic cartoon, perhaps?

And now, sports...