MARTYRDOM OF GENIUS

Evening Star, Issue 19797, 22 February 1928, Page 13

MARTYRDOM OF GENIUS

TRAGIC ME LIFE OF STRINDBERG Tho question which is agitating the minds of all who have seen the recent London production of Strindberg’s terrible play of sex antagonisms, 1 The Father,’ is: What can have been the writer’s own life and what sort ol woman did ho himself marry -says a ‘ John o’ London’s ’ writer) ? Strind berg has supplied tho answer to that question in an autobiographical novel written m 1887 about his own first marriage. ‘ The Confession of a Fool is one of tho grimmest and most poignant documents in literature. It lays bare with tragic intensity and awful particularity the bleeding soul of ils author. The 'convention of fiction is transparent ; it does nothing to mask the actuality of the life recorded. THE ETERNAL TRIANGLE.

In the beginning tho story moves slowly and placidly. Tho author was casually drawn into the family circle of the Baron, and speedily captivated by tho roguish golden curls and girlish willowy figure of the baroness. The relationship of the husband and wife was friendly rather than passionate. Indeed, the baron was already enamored of his cousin, and his wile turned more and more frankly to the studious librarian and writer, sapping tho defences of his honor and playing upon tho weakness of his unwilling love for her. The issue was not Jong in doubt. It was a dreary love, yen sad as it was, to tho man it was the source of exquisite spiritual joys because of his unfaltering adoration. But the typo of tho woman began to show itself:—

“ Tho more humble I was, the more I knelt before her, small and miserable, the mere she loved me. She hated strength and, manliness in me; to win her love 1 had to pretend to bo wretched, so that she could pose as the stronger, play ‘ little mother.’ ” The baroness left her husband, and her lover managed to get her a footing on tho stage, for which she yearned. She had no natural aptitude for the work, but by dint of his strenuous instruction, the emptying of his genius into hot - , she had a short-lived “ succes do scandale,” and took upon her the scornful airs of a tragedy queen. When the nine days’ wonder was over, she had nothing to depend on, and had to turn back to him. it remained then to put the relationship upon its usual financial basis. What ever bloom had been upon their ley© was sullied; sordidness invaded their lives; passion, loathing, and jealousy alternated in their hearts. THU VAMPIRE’S PROGRESS.

Unable to endure any longer, fie went to Paris for a. holiday, but was recalled by the announcement that the baroness was going to have a baby, and wished to bo made an honest woman. He burned back to Sweden, tho marriage took place, and there was a temporary recrudescence of bliss. It was the merest triviality whirl) upset' their happiness, a King Charles spaniel upon which tho baroness lavished a misplaced love. She was now thirty years old, tho critical age, as her husband had good reason to suspect. Not only did he fail to satisfy her, but she began to look abroad for the fulfilment of her appetite, and evidence was nob wanting of an incipient perversion towards tier own sex. Her passions were more and more unbridled, her name was bandied about the town, she was lost to all decencies. And when ho made a feeble eflort to restrain her she retorted vilely by spreading rumors that ho was insane. “She had wone the game. And as she saw me go down before mv enemies, site assumed the role of the tender mother, weeping over the prodigal son. Amiable to all the world, except to me, she drew all my friends over to her side, false ones and true ones alike Isolated, in the power of a vampire, I abandoned all attempt at defence. Could I raise ray hand against the mother of my children, tbs woman 1 loved P” A POOL’S PARADISE.

The cup of sorrow was not yet full. There was no pretence of wifehood save when strangers were present. Him attempted to get rid of hint by poisoning, that she might have her freedom, cash his life insurance, and receive the pension due to the widow of a famous writer. And by her licentious life she insinuated the appalling doubt of the legitimacy of his children. When it seemed that he would no longer consent to be her lap-dog, a toy to play with, she had recourse to the age-old wiles of women. She set herself to win him back to worshipping love, and, constant by nature, wrapped up in his famiy and convinced irrevocavy of the vital unity of the home, he ■was an easy conquest. For six months he lived in a fool’s paradise, “ spring had returned in the autumn of their lives.” Whe.n he was once more utterly subjugated, she relapsed into her former indifference and viciousness. Nothing remained but to make a clean break that was long over-due. Him had dishonored four people, her three children of doubtful paternity, and the husband whom her infidelities had

mads a laughing-stock. Divorce was tho only remedy. v

MISOGYNY’S HANDBOOK

Such is ‘ The Confession of a Fool ' The reader “will find in it elements ol tho physiology of love, some light on the pathology of the soul, nr even a strange fragment of the philosophy of crime. The author himself was appalled what ho had done. “Thus is a terrible hook.” he says, “and I regret that ) eve 'wrote it.” .The reason ho gave needs no elaboration —“ I had to nash rav corpse before it was laid m its coffin.” The genius of Strindberg s self-revelation, his merciless indictment of one woman, and the specious appearance of logic which extends that into a generalisation of misogyny, make it also a dangerous book, unless due allowance be made for the inevitable djstortion of his soul during that long disease, his life.