A friend of mine recently introduced me to a 19th century Norwegian play called Et dukkehjem - or the Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen.
After reading through the synopsis, and portions of a translated script, I found myself reacting to the work with more vehemence than I'd expected.
First a couple of links:
And a comparison:
Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates.
(As soon as I read the synopsis, I thought of this play/novel/movie)
-------
Rather than re-Analyze this play, I'd rather spend a little time anaylzing my reaction to both pieces. Growing up in the midst of the changing paradigms of male-female behaviour in the world of literature and cinema has always left me a bit out of kilter with regards to what is properbehaviour in terms of roles and values. Over time, i've realized that there is no monolithic "right way" of doing things, and that people's preferences for how they wish to be treated vary with circumstance, age and relationship. Throughout all of that, mutual respect and recognition of strengths is appreciated, whether one prefers a more "chivalrous" model, or a more modernist "partnership of equals" model.
Without getting too much into whether one model is more or less biblical, or even whether one way of framing relationships is superior, I wanted to start with assessing Torvald. He is rather despicable. A denigrating hypocrite and social climber, he's not at all appreciative of who his wife is and what she's done for his family and for him. While trying to shore up his deficiencies, she's also striven to maintain a veneer of respectability for their family and home.
She, on the other hand, is a woman living amidst the realities of their fallen/sorry estate, trying to pull things together by whatever means she has, not worried so much about ideology, but just trying to do her best the best way she knows how.
His judgment of her and dismissal of her efforts is quite callous and unbecoming, and certainly belies any pretensions of a doting husband. He is, most definitely notChrist-like. Interestingly, I think his promotion at the bank potentiates his particularly arrogant turn.
Her responses, in this context, make a lot of sense, as she realizes that this role is no longer for her... this quiet, long-suffering role, silent, and unappreciated... not what she can tolerate.
I reacted to Revolutionary Road and this piece in a similar fashion because of the way the woman ultimately decides to leave. I think Revolutionary Road evokes more of this response than Doll House - and I'll get to that in a moment.
In this work, Nora discovers she no longer loves her husband, nor does she want to be this person imprisoned in the doll house. Revolutionary Road's character is more nuanced - she discovers that she is living a lie, not able to pursue her real passion of acting and theatre - of exploration and adventure (vis a vis, their possible move to France).
In RR, it is the mundane that is the trap, with perhaps a typically insensitive husband, rather than a despicable one.
What concerns me is the following: I am a flawed man. A wretch even, if you will. If I try to love unconditionally, and my wife decides that her life is unfulfilling, what is there that I can do? In some ways, everything, in another sense, there's nothing that can be done.
And there it is, there is, at heart, the potential for a no-cause loss - a growing apart in which ideas and ideals pull two people apart. This is more present in RR... As I read DH more carefully, it's much more about the ugly underpinnings of a broken, poisoned marriage than the clash of dreams.
Given that I like strong, passionate, intelligent women, I think I've feared a woman leaving me for an idea or ideas. Somehow, I feel like I have no answer for that at all. If one were competing with another person, if the other is better for her, he is simply better. (Not talking about an affair per se, pre-marriage, thanks!), But how does one compete with an idea?
I guess it boils down to a sense of powerlessness. I don't like that feeling at all - which then boils down to the illusion of control.
A sense of Control is a fabrication of the mind. We are no more sovereign of our lives than a rock is over the sun. In the end, both my life and my fate as well as that of any hypothetical life-partner is in God's hands. I cannot control the evolutions and vicissitudes of her heart any more than I can change the season. I can seek to love her as best as a man (fallen, sinful, selfish) can... seeking to grow and understand at all times.
The rest is out of my direct influence. As it should be.
Love cannot be forced, coerced, or compelled.
As it should be.
John 15:12-13
12 This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.
If one marries, their best friend, then loving them means laying down your life for the other... daily, hourly, by the minute, and by the second.
It's easier, of course, if it's entirely mutual.
--------
PS.
I've begun outlining a new book.
Comments (4)
You should read Hedda Gabler, also by Ibsen. We read it in HS but it still sticks with me years later.
@booyah81 -
I'll look into it. I never was exposed to Ibsen. Interesting stuff. Have you read Girl with the Dragon Tattoo?
Nada. For me, pre-2006 reading was high school required reading; post-2005 reading are what Gloria affectionately calls "God books". The one exception? Camus' The Stranger. (Gloria made me read it.)
@booyah81 - Camus!!!
Yay!
The Stranger!
Excellent.
Tattoo is really interesting for one reason in particular; we normally think of N. Europe as particularly progressive when it comes to male-female legislation, etc. The book really paints a picture of relatively frequent violence against women. True or not, it creates a very dramatic back-drop.
Comments are closed.