Punch (100.1891)

Februaby u, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

75

THEIR IBSEN-DiXIT."

A new set of Faddists has been _ gradually growing up, not in
our midst, but in the parts about Literature and the Drama. The
object of their cult is, one Renrik Ibsen, a Norwegian Dramatist,
(perhaps it would be more correct to say, the Norwegian Dramatist,)
of whose plays a pretty sprinkling of scribes, amateur and pro-
fessional, but all of the very highest culture, profess themselves the
uncompromisingly enthusiastic admirers. You may not know the
Ibsenites or any of their works, but in their company at least,—
that is, supposing yourself so highly privileged as to be admitted
within the innermost circle of the Inner Ibsen Brotherhood,—not
to know Ibsen would be proof positive of your being in the outer
darkness of ignorance, ana in need, however unworthy, of the grace
of Ibsenitish enlightenment. Recruits are wanted in the Ibsenite
ranks, so as to strengthen numerically the one party against the
other; for the Ibsenitish sect has so far progressed as to be at log-
gerheads amongst themselves; not indeed on any really essential
question, such as would be, for example, any doubt as to the position
of Ibsen as a Dramatist, or as to the order of merit and precedence
to be assigned to his works. No, on such matters they are appa-
rently at one; but in other matters they are at one another. Thus
the unity appears to be only superficial, a decent plaster hiding the
rift occasioned by one of their number having'literally translated
into English Ibsen's latest Norwegian drama, of which translation the
verbal correctness is impugned by another learned Ibsenite.

Not being " a hardy Norseman," and having neither a reading nor
speaking acquaintance with the Norse language, I am unable to
decide abstruse points on which such learned doctors disagree ; but
not being altogether without some practical experience of English
and French drama, I venture to call in question not only the dramatic
ability of the dramatist himself, but also, after perhaps allowing him
some merit as a type-writer or character-sketcher, to assert that the
style and matter of most of his work is always tiresome, frequently
childish, and the subject often morbid and unhealthy; and, further,
that his method is tedious to the last degree of boredom; for, as a
writer, if I may judge him fairly by his translators, he is didactic
and prosy, and never more tedious than when his dialogue is intended
to be at its very crispest. As a playwright his construction is faulty.
Here and there he gives expression to pretty ideas, reminding me
(still judging by the translation) of Tom Robertson, not when the
latter was in his happiest vein, but when laboriously striving to
make his puppets talk in a sweetly ingenuous manner.

I have never seen any play of Ibsen's on the stage, but I have
read several of them—indeed, as I believe, all that have hitherto
been translated and published in this country. I was prepared to
be charmed, expecting much. I was soon disillusioned, and great
was my disappointment. Then I re-read them, to judge of them
not merely as dramas for the closet, but as dramas for the stage,
written to be acted, not to be read; or, at all events, as far as the
general public were concerned, to be acted first, and to be read
afterwards. As acting dramas, it is difficult to conceive anything
less practically dramatic. I do not know what the pecuniary result
of his theatrical productions may be in his own country—where, I
believe, he doesn't reside—but, out of his own country (say, here in
London), I should say that a one-night's performance, with a house
half full, would exhaust Ibsen's English public, and quite exhaust
the patience of those who know not Ibsen.

Years ago we had the Chatterton - Boucicault dictum that
" Shakspeabe spelt failure." Now, for Shakspeabe read "Ibsen,"
and insert the words " swift and utter" before "failure," and you
have my opinion as to how the formula would stand with regard to
Ibsen. I should be sorry to see any professional Manager making
himself pecuniarily responsible for the success of such an under-
taking, a word which, in its funereal sense, is of ill omen to the
attempt. Let the Ibsenites club together, lease a theatre, and see
how the public likes their show. There's nothing doing at the
Royalty just now ; let them pay rent in advance, and become Miss
Kate Santlet's tenants; then, if the Ibsen-worshippers, with their
Arch-priest, or abcheb-priest, at their head, come to a temporary
understanding with the Gosse-lbsenites, they could craftily contrive
to be invited as guests to a dinner at the Playwreckers' Club. The
dilettanti members of this association the United Ibsenites could flatter
by deferring to the opinions of their hosts, while inculcating their own,
thus securing the goodwill and patronage of the Playwreckers, a plan
nowadays adopted with considerable success by some of our wiliest
dramatists, eager to secure a free course and be glorified ; and so, by
making each one of these mighty amateurs feel that the success
of Ibsen in this country depended on him personally, that is, on his
verdict or '' Ibsen dixit," a run of, say, perhaps three nights might
possibly be secured, when they could play to fairly-filled houses. One
' nichtwi' Ibsen," one night only, would, I venture to say, be quite
enough for most of us. " Oh, that mine enemy would write a book!"
" Oh; that my enemy would bring out an Ibsenite play," and try to
run it! Perhaps he will. In which case I will either alter my
opinion or give him a dose of Anti-Fad.

MR. GLADSTONE'S NEW HOUSE.

" The house which Mr. Gladstone has just taken in Park Lane is, it :
reported, the selection of Mrs. Gladstone, who recommends it with a yiew
to her husband's opportunities for exercise."—Daily Taper.