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Ebook has 2982 lines and 25720 words, and 60 pages
Commentator: William Archer
Translator: Edmund Gosse and William Archer
THE MASTER BUILDER
Translated by Edmund Gosse and William Archer
Introduction by William Archer
INTRODUCTION.
Dr. Brahm, however, seems to be mistaken in thinking that Ibsen returned to Norway with no definite intention of settling down. Dr. Julius Elias reports that shortly before Ibsen left Munich in 1891, he remarked one day, "I must get back to the North!" "Is that a sudden impulse?" asked Elias. "Oh no," was the reply; "I want to be a good head of a household and have my affairs in order. To that end I must consolidate may property, lay it down in good securities, and get it under control--and that one can best do where one has rights of citizenship." Some critics will no doubt be shocked to find the poet whom they have written down an "anarchist" confessing such bourgeois motives.
DE SAD DER, DE TO--
De sad der, de to, i saa lunt et hus ved host og i venterdage, Saa braendte huset. Alt ligger i grus. De to faar i asken rage.
For nede id en er et smykke gemt,-- et smykke, som aldrig kan braende. Og leder de trofast, haender det nemt at det findes af ham eller hende.
Men finder de end, brandlidte to, det dyre, ildfaste smykke,-- aldrig han finder sin braendte tro, han aldrig sin braendte lykke.
THEY SAT THERE, THE TWO--
They sat there, the two, in so cosy a house, through autumn and winter days. Then the house burned down. Everything lies in ruins. The two must grope among the ashes.
For among them is hidden a jewel--a jewel that never can burn. And if they search faithfully, it may easily happen that he or she may find it.
But even should they find it, the burnt-out two--find this precious unburnable jewel--never will she find her burnt faith, he never his burnt happiness.
BUILDING-PLANS
I remember as clearly as if it had been to-day the evening when, in the paper, I saw my first poem in print. There I sat in my den, and, with long-drawn puffs, I smoked and I dreamed in blissful self-complacency.
"I will build a cloud-castle. It shall shine all over the North. It shall have two wings: one little and one great. The great wing shall shelter a deathless poet; the little wing shall serve as a young girl's bower."
The plan seemed to me nobly harmonious; but as time went on it fell into confusion. When the master grew reasonable, the castle turned utterly crazy; the great wing became too little, the little wing fell to ruin.
There has been some competition among the poet's young lady friends for the honour of having served as his model for Hilda. Several, no doubt, are entitled to some share in it. One is not surprised to learn that among the papers he left behind were sheaves upon sheaves of letters from women. "All these ladies," says Dr. Julius Elias, "demanded something of him--some cure for their agonies of soul, or for the incomprehension from which they suffered; some solution of the riddle of their nature. Almost every one of them regarded herself as a problem to which Ibsen could not but have the time and the interest to apply himself. They all thought they had a claim on the creator of Nora.... Of this chapter of his experience, Fru Ibsen spoke with ironic humour. 'Ibsen , Ibsen, keep these swarms of over-strained womenfolk at arm's length.' 'Oh no , let them alone. I want to observe them more closely.' His observations would take a longer or shorter time as the case might be, and would always contribute to some work of art."
Hohes, schmerzliches Gluck-- um das Unerreichbare zu ringen!
That the play is full of symbolism it would be futile to deny; and the symbolism is mainly autobiographic. The churches which Solness sets out building doubtless represent Ibsen's early romantic plays, the "homes for human beings" his social drama; while the houses with high towers, merging into "castles in the air," stand for those spiritual dramas, with a wide outlook over the metaphysical environment of humanity, on which he was henceforth to be engaged. Perhaps it is not altogether fanciful to read a personal reference into Solness's refusal to call himself an architect, on the ground that his training has not been systematic--that he is a self-taught man. Ibsen too was in all essentials self-taught; his philosophy was entirely unsystematic; and, like Solness, he was no student of books. There may be an introspective note also in that dread of the younger generation to which Solness confesses. It is certain that the old Master-Builder was not lavish of his certificates of competence to young aspirants, though there is nothing to show that his reticence ever depressed or quenched any rising genius.
W.A.
"To the May-sun of a September life--in Tyrol."
"High, painful happiness--to struggle for the unattainable!"
THE MASTER BUILDER.
PLAY IN THREE ACTS.
CHARACTERS.
HALVARD SOLNESS, Master Builder. ALINE SOLNESS, his wife. DOCTOR HERDAL, physician. KNUT BROVIK, formerly an architect, now in SOLNESS'S employment. RAGNAR BROVIK, his son, draughtsman. KAIA BROVIK, his niece, book-keeper. MISS HILDA WANGEL. Some Ladies. A Crowd in the street.
The action passes in and about SOLNESS'S house.
ACT FIRST.
A plainly-furnished work-room in the house of HALVARD SOLNESS. Folding doors on the left lead out to the hall. On the right is the door leading to the inner rooms of the house. At the back is an open door into the draughtsmen's office. In front, on the left, a desk with books, papers and writing materials. Further back than the folding door, a stove. In the right- hand corner, a sofa, a table, and one or two chairs. On the table a water-bottle and glass. A smaller table, with a rocking-chair and arm-chair, in front on the right. Lighted lamps, with shades, on the table in the draughtmen's office, on the table in the corner, and on the desk.
In the draughtsmen's office sit KNUT BROVIK and his son RAGNAR, occupied with plans and calculations. At the desk in the outer office stands KAIA FOSLI, writing in the ledger. KNUT BROVICK is a spare old man with white hair and beard. He wears a rather threadbare but well-brushed black coat, with spectacles, and a somewhat discoloured white neckcloth. RAGNAR BROVIK is a well-dressed, light-haired man in his thirties, with a slight stoop. KAIA FOSLI is a slightly built girl, a little over twenty, carefully dressed, and delicate-looking. She has a green shade over her eyes.--All three go on working for some time in silence.
KNUT BROVIK.
No, I can't bear it much longer!
KAIA.
You are feeling very ill this evening, are you not, Uncle?
BROVIK.
Oh, I seem to get worse every day.
RAGNAR.
You ought to go home, father. Try to get a little sleep--
BROVIK.
Go to bed, I suppose? Would you have me stifled outright?
KAIA.
Then take a little walk.
RAGNAR.
Yes, do. I will come with you.
BROVIK.
KAIA.
Oh no, uncle,--do wait awhile before doing that!
RAGNAR.
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