"A Doll's House" by Henrik Ibsen: Torvald and Nora Helmer seem to have the perfect marriage. They have three beautiful children, a lovely home, and are well respected throughout the community. After some financial struggles early in their marriage, things are looking up, with Torvald set to accept a lucrative position at the bank. All seems golden until the past pays a visit.
Christine Linde, an old childhood friend of Nora's, shows up out of the blue on Christmas Eve. Nora had just returned from a pleasant shopping trip, her spirits soaring on Torvald's impending good fortune, when Christine arrives to spin a tale of woe. She's far different than the girl Nora remembered, altered by tragic hardships.
Christine's life took a turn for the worse when she agreed to marry a wealthy man not out of love but merely to help secure the futures of her ailing mother and two young brothers. Her husband's prosperous business soon failed, leaving her trapped in a loveless marriage. When her husband died, he left her with no money, no property, and not even a sense of grief. Her mother had passed. Her two brothers were old enough to take care of themselves. Christine was alone, with no reason to live.
Feeling terribly innocent and naive in the wake of Christine's misery, Nora shares a secret, admitting her life isn't as simple as it seems. Torvald was once very sick, and doctors instructed him to take a lengthy vacation to recover his failing health. Nora managed to procure the money needed for the journey, telling Torvald her father loaned it to them when, in reality, she borrowed it from a disreputable moneylender. Nora's father died shortly thereafter, so there was no one to dispute her claim. She's been quietly performing menial tasks in her free time to repay the money ever since.
The revelation brings the two friends closer together, and Nora asks Torvald to find a job for Christine at the bank. But the smiles are barely off their faces when Krogstad, another bank employee, arrives to speak with Torvald. But Krogstad isn't just a bank employee. He's also quite familiar to both Nora and Christine. Not only was he the man who lent Nora her money back in the day, he's also the man Christine shunned in order to marry her wealthy husband. It's a small word.
Krogstad is afraid Torvald is planning to fire him due to certain moral indiscretions in his past. And he isn't going to lose his position without a fight. He has Nora dead to rights, owning proof that she forged her father's name on their loan agreement. A similar crime is what first made Krogstad a social outcast. He's spent many years rebuilding his reputation, and he's willing to blackmail Nora to make sure his character stays clean.
When Torvald discovers the truth, he all but disowns Nora, saying she is no longer fit to raise their children and that she will be his wife in name only. They would stay married and live under the same roof solely to keep up appearances.
Almost as soon as Torvald is done berating his wife, a letter from Krogstad arrives freeing Nora from any obligation. Krogstad is going to marry Christine, the joy of their reconciliation destroying all the vindictiveness in his soul. Torvald is relieved. Nothing has to change. Their beautiful life can keep on trucking as before.
Well, not so fast, my friend. Nora has other ideas. She launches into a spirited tirade, comparing her existence to that of a doll, living only to give her husband pleasure. She vehemently proclaims her independence, leaving Torvald and her children in pursuit of self-discovery. She is woman, hear her roar.
Written in 1879, "A Doll's House" was a scathing indictment of Victorian marriage. The idea of a woman rising up against her husband was incredibly scandalous, securing Ibsen's reputation as a social iconoclast, a role he'd play to the hilt in future works dealing with such taboo topics as venereal disease and individuality over country.
The play is written in three acts, and all the action is set in a single room of the Helmer house. As always, when reviewing a play I can only concern myself with the words on the page. And, in this case, I found the words to be rather annoying.
Everything is just painfully melodramatic. The piece has a nice message, and its social significance, in harkening the arrival of feminism, can't be overlooked, but I respect it far more than I enjoyed it. The dialogue feels forced, and a lot of the secondary characters are underdeveloped or simply two-dimensional caricatures.
Sadly, it was more interesting to read about Ibsen and his impact than it was to actually read Ibsen. Although, he is Norwegian, so that's pretty cool.
RATING: 