Friday, April 8, 2016

By the River (Thoughts on "A Doll's House" by Henrik Ibsen)


In the Victorian Era, in a comfortably wealthy house in Norway, lives a woman with three beautiful children and a hard-working husband. As society expected in that time, her husband has absolute power in decisions in the household and allows her stipends for her shopping excursions. Day after day, she shops for superficial things – trinkets for the children, macaroons and sweets, tinsel for the Christmas tree. However, underneath her naïve and childish façade hides a woman who has saved her husband by going behind his back and taking a loan out from the bank – novel behavior for the time period. The wife, Nora, must repay the debt to a man who works for her husband, and the plot twists and turns as old friends come and go. Blackmail, death and revenge each plays their part in as the plot progresses.

As the play draws to an end, Nora opts to leave the comfort and safety of her home. After the reveal of her secret, her husband proves himself as a shallow and self-centered man. Nora leaves behind her children and Torvald, who has never seen her as more than a beautiful accessory in a beautiful home. Nora “begin[s] to learn for [her]self” and attempts to “discover who’s right, the world or[her].”

Even now, her behavior may be considered sporadic and unkind to her children, if not her husband. Even so, leaving the comfort and familiarity of domestic life to discover oneself is not wholly unheard of. For example, Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha involves a man who has it all – money, respect, attractiveness – but decides to leave it all to achieve a state of nirvana.

And in contrast, one of Ibsen’s characters in his play (Kristine) tells a former lover that she wants to be with him, that “now [that she is] completely alone in the world, it frightens [her] to be so empty and lost. To work for yourself – there’s no joy in that.” Kristine’s intents act as a foil to Nora’s desire to discover herself and learn more about the world around her, with no one hindering her.

Perhaps Nora may be the most extreme of examples. She leaves three children, a comfortable home, and tactless but caring husband. Some argue she deserves to leave, to discover oneself. Ibsen asks, where will the line be drawn? When does one stop caring about others, and cares about oneself? And when does this self-love become selfishness?

No comments:

Post a Comment