There isn't a recipe, but a play that does not, in some way, combine an observation of ideas, an observation of living people, and an observation of the artist's own soul will probably never fuel a dramatic vehicle, no matter how well built. Another reminder that the essence of art, the meaning of a created work, cannot be taught, even while the methods and techniques of delivery can.
The writing of Hedda Gabler (originally titled Hedda) came slowly. Ibsen apparently thought about the subject for a long time. Actually, changing the title may have helped. Hedda is fine, but Hedda Gabler is more to the point, more firmly identifies the character. As a matter of fact, one of the wonderful details of the play is the fact that Hedda is almost always referred to by others—her in-laws, her former “lover,” even her husband—as “Hedda Gabler,” her maiden name, as opposed to her married name. It's as if the world recognizes Hedda's unwillingness to fully enter the dull domesticity her marriage to George Tesman brings. Few call her “Mrs. Tesman.” When used by the sardonic Judge Brack, “Mrs. Tesman” becomes a kind of taunt. When used by Eilert Lovborg, it is with accusation and longing.
Planning for the play came in increments. Ibsen was a writer who approached plays first via theme. Anecdotes may have fueled the initial story idea of Hedda Gabler, but it's fair to say that Ibsen did not like to pursue a plot until he knew clearly what he thought about the issues and the characters. He was searching for the actions that would tell the story, the actions that would engender the themes he wanted to convey. Notes like “women lean towards sensuality, but are afraid of scandal”; and “the play is about the longing and striving to defy convention.” Ibsen was putting together his three observations to create a set of ideas that would, in turn, create characters and actions.
He outlined the entire plot in longhand (the outline would change, but he had one, and that's the point). Then he began the play itself. He spent a month writing Act One. Then he stopped for many weeks. Then more ideas and actions came together. Acts Two, Three and Four evolved quickly, in just four weeks. In the next two months he revised.
When it opened, the play premiered to horrible reviews.
Moral? Sometimes a writer's work is beyond the comprehension of his time.
HEDDA GABLER: CHARACTER
Hedda was an original character. She is a female egotist (the first of her kind onstage) who seeks passion, romance, sensation, experiment, vicarious danger and adventure. But she is also pathetically afraid to act on her desires until the very end, until it is too late.
Hedda does terrible things, but she is always witty, always vital, always planning, plotting, full of energy. She wants things. That's the key. And even when we criticize her pettiness, her cruelty, her demonstrable monstrosity, she's always worthy of pity, understanding and, most important, awe. As a character, she is a giant.
Characters must fascinate, enthrall, surprise. Characters must want. We must care about them—and those they affect—to see the outcome of their goals, desires, obsessions and obstacles. Hedda Gabler achieves all this.
HEDDA GABLER: ANALYSIS
Hedda Gabler was written to be performed in four acts, four separate sections in four separate times of day in a single thirty-six hour period, a very close approximation of the Aristotelian notion of the “unity of time.” Although there are four official acts, Hedda Gabler, as we shall see, still adheres to the three-movement model. Each act takes place in the same sitting room, displaying Ibsen's strict use of the Aristotelian “unity of space.”
For this analysis of the play, I am using Long Wharf Theatre Artistic Director Doug Hughes' 1992 English language adaption. It has been staged at both Seattle Rep and at the Denver Center Theater Company. Numerous other translations are readily available. It is essential that you read a copy of the play as we analyze it. I suggest reading one act at a time, then referring to the analysis of that act. As we go over the text, keep in mind everything you've read so far:
• the definitions of drama and theater
• the six elements of Aristotle (character, action, ideas, language, music and spectacle)
• space/time/causality
• character/conflict/action/idea
• the three movements of a play
• inciting incidents, points of attack, goals, obstacles, wants, needs, desires, complications, crises, climax and resolution
• mysteries
• protagonists and antagonists
• concrete goals and abstract ideas
• suspense
• secrets
• sex
• love
• money
• power
• crime
• death
• ideas
• theatricality
ACT ONE
On the morning that starts the action of the play, the pedantic academic George Tesman and his wife of five months, Hedda, have just returned to their new home in the city. Their ship has docked the night before. The home is that of the late cabinet minister, Secretary Falk, purchased by George with loans from his family and assistance from his friend, the older Judge Brack. In the opening scene, George's loving but cloying Aunt Julie is discussing the young couple's arrival with the maid, Berthe, a domestic who is stoking the fire grate. Berthe worked in Aunt Julie's home but has now joined George and Hedda at Julie's insistence. Julie's sister Rina is ill, dying, and Julie will have to return home soon to care for her, but she is eager to see George and his wife, “the beautiful Hedda.” Julie has even bought a new hat for their return. She places it on a sofa.
George joins them. He is excited and anxious. Hedda Gabler is a woman with expensive tastes. His new home and servants require a larger income, one that may come with the professorship he hopes to get. His friend Judge Brack has told him that the appointment at the university is assuredly his.
Julie quizzes George about his honeymoon. She alludes to the possibility that Hedda Gabler is pregnant. George will neither confirm nor deny the possibility. (Both refer to Hedda as “Hedda Gabler,” not “Hedda Tesman.”)
Julie is very proud of George, noting that his academic achievements outshine so many of his contemporaries'. Then she makes a reference to one of his friendly adversaries, a man known as “Eilert,” whom Julie informs George has just published a book of some importance. George absorbs this information.
Hedda Gabler enters, as beautiful as she has been described. She refers to Julie as “Miss Tesman,” to George as “Tesman.” Hedda notes the hat on the sofa. She says it must be the maid's, because it's so “dreadful. People don't do such things.”
Embarrassed, Aunt Julie retrieves her hat. She leaves.
Once alone, Hedda and George discover a card from a visitor who has apparently come earlier that morning, a “Mrs. Elvstead.” Tesman remembers her as a woman he and Hedda knew some years ago, a woman who has married an older magistrate in a northern province. Hedda comments that it is the same province where Eilert Lovborg had moved to some time before.
At this point, “Mrs. Elvstead” is announced. She enters, nervous. It turns out she went to school with Hedda many years before, but Hedda was a much more popular figure. Thea Elvstead knows very few people in the city, and she has come to town to meet someone—a friend, the tutor of her stepchildren.
THEA: “Eilert Lovborg is back in town.”
Lovborg's book has become a sensation. It was written at Thea's home, with her help. George is shaken by Lovborg's success, and Hedda seems to enjoy his discomfort. Thea must find Lovborg. Will the Tesmans help? Of course, says George. Hedda suggests he write a letter to Lovborg at the local address Thea has discovered. Hedda makes George leave the room to write the letter.
Once George is gone, Hedda interrogates Thea. Thea's marriage to the magistrate is a union of convenience (she used to be governess to the magistrate's children). She has left the much older magistrate to come to the city, so that she can be with Lovborg.
Hedda is taken aback by this “little
woman's” courage. Thea seems not to care “what people will say,” as Hedda puts it. Under questioning, Thea reveals that she has not only helped Eilert write his successful book (“like his partner”), she has also made him stop his “old habits,” his drinking and carousing. Hedda is not pleased by this. Hedda brightens, however, when Thea says that even though she has left her husband, something stands between her and Eilert: “another woman,” someone Eilert loved years before.
THEA: “When he left her, she threatened to shoot him with a pistol.”
HEDDA: “Such melodrama.”
Thea believes the woman is a famous singer (read: prostitute) whom Eilert once mentioned. The singer, Diana, is in the city, too, and her presence is driving Thea “mad.”
George reenters. He has sent the note to Lovborg, inviting him to the house that evening.
The maid announces Judge Brack.
Thea exits.
The smooth, avuncular judge enters. Judge Brack and Hedda banter. It is obvious they enjoy an innuendo-filled relationship. George hints about a possible pregnancy. Hedda quiets him.
The three talk about the honeymoon, the costly home, and George's university appointment. There's a problem though.
BRACK: “Eilert Lovborg's back in town.” (That sentence again.)
They know.
And his new book has caused such a sensation that the university is considering him for the same post George thought was his. There will be “a competition.”
George is distraught. His own book—years in the making with still more years to go—is about the “the textile industry in the 14th century.” Lovborg's best-seller is about the history of civilization.
Brack is sanguine. Does George remember the party at the Judge's scheduled for later in the evening? No, George has forgotten. And George has just invited Lovborg to visit. Brack doubts Lovborg will respond. Brack leaves, saying he'll be back to pick up George.
Alone again, Hedda berates George. Without a university post and its attendant salary, her dreams of servants and horses and a social whirl may be lost. George says that perhaps visits by his Aunt Julie will fill Hedda's time instead. Hedda doesn't respond to this. But she makes a pronouncement as she exits the sitting room.
HEDDA: “At least I still have one thing to kill time with.”
TESMAN: “What's that?”
HEDDA: “My pistols, George. General Gabler's pistols.”
And she exits.
End of Act One
Summary: Ibsen uses the “slow immersion” approach to begin his play. The opening dialogue between Aunt Julie and Berthe is classic nineteenth-century exposition. Hedda doesn't even make her first entrance for a good few minutes. Where was the point of attack? At the curtain line? Maybe. That's where we realize Hedda may be the woman from Eilert's past. Why does the curtain line tell us that? It's the revelation of the pistols. Was the point of attack at the Judge's mention of a “competition”? Maybe. Competitions are dramatic. Earlier?
Think of westerns. The first act turning point, the end of the beginning, comes when Thea enters the Tesman's home and says, “Eilert Lovborg is back in town,” after which Hedda acts to make George invite him to the house. Nothing will ever be the same after this entrance (Thea's), this information (“Eilert Lovborg is back in town”), and this action (“George, send him a letter. Now.”).
If you looked for the inciting incident, you saw the tip of its iceberg in the news that Lovborg has written a new book. Once Lovborg arrives onstage, we'll find out more about how that book came to be written.
Details and props in Act One are important. Think of them as seeds that will grow later in importance: the hat, dying Aunt Rina, the suggestions of pregnancy, the two books, Thea's declaration of love, the story of “the other woman,” the Judge's sly grasp of information, the “competition,” the pistols. Also, certain key thematic concerns have been layered in: “people don't do such things” (this about leaving the hat on the sofa), “burning,” scandal (“Aren't you afraid what people will say, Thea?”), “partners” and “courage.” Ibsen finds ways to plant these seeds in dramatic and memorable ways. They'll come back later. But the point of attack catalyst is a human one. A man from the past has returned. A central dramatic question has been posed (What will Hedda do now that Lovborg's back?). His presence will change their lives. And they know it.
ACT TWO
That evening. A fire flickers in the grate. Judge Brack has returned to pick up George. Hedda, beautifully dressed, greets him. (Why is Hedda beautifully dressed?) Hedda asks the judge why he has come back to bring George to the judge's own home. It becomes obvious: Judge Brack and Hedda have a flirtatious relationship, one made up of double entendres. Hedda even teases the judge by aiming her father's pistol at him in the garden.
They discuss her honeymoon—a bore.
They discuss Tesman—a bore. Brack asks her why she married George. She replies: He's solid. And there weren't any other “available escorts in the city.”
The judge hints at his willingness to be the third side of a “casual triangle.” Hedda laughs. She “accepts,” in the veiled terms they are used to.
George enters, laden with more books for his research and dressed to leave. George also has Lovborg's book. He's read it that very afternoon. It's impressive. He also reveals that his Aunt Rina has taken a turn for the worse (A small detail? Or will it be important later?). George exits a moment, and Hedda reveals that she knew all the time that the infamous “hat” was Aunt Julie's. She was just torturing Aunt Julie for the fun of it. She also admits that her love for the home George has bought, the famed “Secretary Falk's villa” is not real at all. She and George had been walking home from a party the summer before (she chides the judge for “going in another direction”; otherwise he might have been the one walking her home); George was tongue-tied. They passed the villa. To break the silence, Hedda said she would love to Hve in the villa. So, in effect, the judge's “other directions” created a chain of events that lead to the Hedda/George courtship, to the myth of the adored villa, and the marriage itself.
Brack wonders about Hedda's goals. Doesn't she have any? She's bored, she replies. But she needs … something.
Brack alludes to a child. This upsets Hedda.
George returns. And a visitor is announced.
Eilert Lovborg enters.
Polite reintroductions. They're all old acquaintances. George praises Lovborg's book. Lovborg disparages it. It is pablum, he says, designed to flatter the readership. It is merely preparation for his next work, the one he wrote with Thea in the provinces. This next book, he says, will be a real masterpiece. He carries the manuscript with him.
And he's willing to read it to George.
George tries to appear thrilled (inside, he's dying—subtext) but explains he's on his way to Brack's party. Brack slyly suggests Lovborg join them at the party. He can read the book to George there. Brack will even set up a room. Brack is enjoying all this. Hedda is not.
George asks if Lovborg will indeed be giving a series of lectures in the fall, as he had heard at the bookstore.
Lovborg says he will. But only after George gets his university appointment.
Surprise. We thought there was to be a “competition.”
Lovborg doesn't want the university job. He'll “let” George have it. He just wants everybody to know he could have beaten George if he wanted to. “I'll settle for the moral victory,” he says.
George is ecstatic. But Hedda, Lovborg and Brack—and the audience—know George has been humiliated.
George and Brack exit for a moment.
Hedda asks Lovborg if he would like to see photos from her honeymoon. Once they're alone, we realize Hedda and Lovborg have been extremely close—soul mates, almost lovers. Lovborg keeps murmuring her name (“Hedda Gabler, Hedda Gabler”) as she turns the pictures in the album (note the juxtaposition: a discussion of Hedda and Lovborg's passion while they peruse the photographic evidence of Hedda's connubial b
oredom).
LOVBORG: (Re: George) “How could you throw yourself away.”
They refer to their earlier “partnership” (remember the word when Thea used it?) and their secret “understanding” that no one suspected.
HEDDA: “Did I have power, Eilert?”
Lovborg has a goal in this scene. He wants to know if Hedda had ever loved him, might still love him.
Hedda says she will not have an affair. She doesn't love George—that's obvious—but there will be no affair.
But did she love Eilert? Eilert is begging her to say “yes.”
Hedda say he was “dangerous,” “forbidden.” They had a common “hunger for life.” (Hedda's tragic flaw #1.)
The “fire” was the attraction (read: sex). But Hedda also feared Lovborg's passion and fire. His danger. Lovborg asks her why she didn't shoot him when she threatened him with her pistols (confirmation of our suspicions).
HEDDA: “Because I'm too terrified of scandal!” (Hedda's tragic flaw #2.)
This is Hedda's inner conflict (self as antagonist):
(1) Hedda wants passion, but (2) she's afraid of the scandal that may come with it.
Hedda's inner conflict is firmly depicted for the audience. It is still early in the play (not quite the 40 percent point), and this vital exposition is revealed in a scene of great conflict, tension and suspense.
As their scene ends, Hedda admits the heat of her feelings for Lovborg. We know the attraction is still there. The fire is crackling again. But Hedda must reject Lovborg.
Thea Elvstead enters.
Thea melts at the sight of Lovborg. Lovborg, hurt and angered by Hedda's rejection, needles Hedda by referring to Thea's “partnership,” her “courage,” her “willingness to act.” By using all these phrases—phrases Ibsen has earlier linked to the relationship between Lovborg and Hedda—and applying them instead to Thea, Lovborg is forcing Hedda into a corner.
The Art and Craft of Playwriting Page 20
