Delphi Collected Works of August Strindberg (Illustrated)
Description
A pivotal figure of late nineteenth century theatre, the Swedish playwright, novelist and essayist August Strindberg produced over sixty plays and more than thirty works of fiction, often drawing directly on his personal experience. A bold experimenter of literary forms, he explored a wide range of dramatic methods and purposes, from naturalistic tragedy, monodrama and history plays, to expressionist and surrealist works. This comprehensive eBook presents the largest collection of Strindberg's works ever compiled in English translation, with numerous illustrations, rare texts, informative introductions and the usual Delphi bonus material. (Version 1)
* Beautifully illustrated with images relating to Strindberg's life and works
* Concise introductions to the major plays and other texts
* 29 plays, with individual contents tables
* Features rare plays appearing for the first time in digital publishing, including 'Mother Love' and 'The Saga of the Folkungs'
* Early twentieth century translations by Warner Oland, Edwin Björkman, Claud Field, Ellie Schleussner and more (too many to list in this description; each translator's name appears at the beginning of each work)
* Excellent formatting of the texts
* 6 novels by Strindberg
* A wide selection of short story collections
* Special chronological and alphabetical contents tables for the short stories
* Easily locate the short stories you want to read
* Selection of Strindberg's non-fiction
* Special criticism section, with 4 essays evaluating Strindberg's contribution to literature
* Features a bonus biography - discover Strindberg's literary life
* Scholarly ordering of texts into chronological order and literary genres
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CONTENTS:
The Plays
The Outlaw
Master Olof
Lucky Pehr
The Father
Comrades
Miss Julie
Creditors
The Stronger
Pariah
Simoom
Debit and Credit
Facing Death
Mother Love
The Link
The First Warning
The Road to Damascus
Advent
There are Crimes and Crimes
Gustavus Vasa
Erik XIV
The Saga of the Folkungs
Easter
The Dance of Death
The Bridal Crown
Swanwhite
The Dream Play
The Thunderstorm
After the Fire
Spook Sonata
The Novels
The Red Room
The Son of a Servant
The Confession of a Fool
On the Seaboard
The Inferno
The Growth of a Soul
The Short Story Collections
Married
Historical Miniatures
Fair Haven and Foul Strand
The German Lieutenant and Other Stories
In Midsummer Days and Other Tales
The Short Stories
List of Short Stories in Chronological Order
List of Short Stories in Alphabetical Order
Non-Fiction
Zones of the Spirit
Legends: Autobiographical Sketches
The Criticism
August Strindberg by James Huneker
The Eccentricity of August Strindberg by Otto Heller
August Strindberg by Horace Barnett Samuel
The Madness of Strindberg by Robert Lynd
The Biography
August Strindberg: The Spirit of Revolt by L. Lind-af-Hageby
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Content
THE OUTLAW
Action takes place in Iceland.
[SCENE - A hut, door at back, window-holes, right and, left, closed by big heavy wooden shutters. Wooden benches against walls, the high bench, a sort of rude throne, at left. The uprights of this high beach are carved with images of the gods Odin and Thor. From the wall beams hang swords, battle axes and shields. Near the high bench stands a harp. Gunlöd stands at an open window-hole peering out; through the opening one gets a glimpse of the sea lighted by the aurora borealis. Valgerd sits by the fire, which is in the middle of the room, spinning.]
VALGERD. Close the window-hole.
[Gunlöd is silent.]
VALGERD. Gunlöd!
GUNLÖD. Did you speak, mother?
VALGERD. What are you doing?
GUNLÖD. I am watching the sea.
VALGERD. When will you learn to forget?
GUNLÖD. Take everything away from me but memories!
VALGERD. Look forward - not back.
GUNLÖD. Who reproaches the strong viking who looks back when he is quitting his native strand?
VALGERD. You have had three winters to make your farewell.
GUNLÖD. You speak truly - three winters! For here never came a summer!
VALGERD. When the floating ice melts, then shall spring be here.
GUNLÖD. The Northern Lights melt no ice.
VALGERD. Nor your tears.
GUNLÖD. You never saw me weep.
VALGERD. But I have heard you. As long as you do that, you are a child.
GUNLÖD. I am not a child.
VALGERD. If you would be a woman, suffer in silence.
GUNLÖD. I'll cast sorrow from me, mother.
VALGERD. No, no - bury it, as your deepest treasure. The seed must not lie on top of the earth if it would sprout and ripen. You have a deep sorrow. It should bear great gladness - and great peace.
GUNLÖD [After a pause]. I shall forget.
VALGERD. Everything?
GUNLÖD. I shall try.
VALGERD. Can you forget your father's hardness?
GUNLÖD. That I have forgotten.
VALGERD. Can you forget that there was a time when your fore-fathers' dwelling stood on Brövikens' strand? Where the south wind sang in the oak wood when the ice-bound seas ran free - where the hemlocks gave forth their fragrance and the finches twittered among the linden trees - and Balder, the God of spring and joy, lulled you to sleep on the green meadows? Can you forget all this, while you listen to the sea gulls' plaints on these bare rocks and cliffs, and the cold storms out of the north howl through the stunted birches?
GUNLÖD. Yes!
VALGERD. Can you forget the friend of your childhood from whom your father tore you to save you from the white Christ?
GUNLÖD [in desperation]. Yes, yes!
VALGERD. You are weeping.
GUNLÖD [Disturbed]. Some one is walking out there. Perhaps father is coming home.
VALGERD. Will you bear in mind every day without tears that we now dwell in the land of ice - fugitives from the kingdom of Svea and hated here by the Christ-men? But we have suffered no loss of greatness, although we have not been baptized and kissed the bishop's hand. Have you ever spoken to any of the Christians since we have been here?
GUNLÖD [After a pause]. No. Tell me, mother, is it true that father is to be Erl here in Iceland, too?
VALGERD. Don't let that trouble you, child.
GUNLÖD. Then I'm afraid he will fare badly with the Christians.
VALGERD. You fear that?
GUNLÖD. Some one is out there.
VALGERD [Anxiously]. Did you see the ship lying in the inlet this morning?
GUNLÖD. With heart-felt gladness!
VALGERD. Bore it the figure-head of Thorfinn?
GUNLÖD. That I could not make out.
VALGERD. Have a care, girl.
GUNLÖD. Is it tonight that I may go out?
VALGERD. Tomorrow - that you know well.
GUNLÖD Mother!
VALGERD [Going]. Mind the fire. [Valgerd goes.]
[Gunlöd looks after her mother, then cautiously takes from her breast a crucifix, puts it on the high bench and falls on her knees.]
GUNLÖD. Christ, Christ, forgive me the lie I told. [Springs up noticing the images of the gods on the high bench.] No, I cannot pray before these wicked images. [She looks for another place.] Holy St. Olof, holy - oh, I can't remember how the bishop named her! God! God! Cast me not into purgatory for this sin! I will repeat the whole long prayer of the monks - credo, credo - in patrem - oh, I have forgotten that too. I shall give five tall candles for the altar of the mother of God the next time I go to the chapel - Credo, in patrem omnipotentem - [Kissing the crucifix eagerly.]
[A song is heard outside the hut accompanied by a lyre.]
A crusader went out to the Holy Land,
O, Christ, take the maiden's soul in hand,
And to your kingdom bring her!
I'll return, mayhap, when the spruce trees bloom.
Summers three he wanders far from thee,
Where nightingales sing their delight,
And masses he holds both day and night,
At the holy sepulchre's chapel.
I'll return, mayhap, when the spruce trees bloom.
When the palm trees bud on Jordan's strand,
Then makes he a prayer to God,
That he may return to his native land,
And press to his heart his love.
I'll return, my love, when the spruce trees bloom.
GUNLÖD [At beginning of song springs up and then listens with more and more agitation and eagerness. When the song is over she goes toward door to bolt it, but so slowly that Gunnar is able to enter before she slips the bolt. Gunnar is clad in the costume of a crusader with a lyre swung across his shoulder.]
GUNNAR. Gunlöd! [They embrace. Gunlöd pulls away and goes toward door.] You are afraid of me? What is it, Gunlöd?
GUNLÖD. You never took me in your arms before!
GUNNAR. We were children then!
GUNLÖD You are right - we were children then. What means that silver falcon on your shield? I saw it on your ship's bow this morning, too.
GUNNAR. You saw my ship - you knew my song, and you would have barred the door against me! What am I to understand, Gunlöd?
GUNLÖD. Oh, ask me nothing! I am so unquiet of spirit but sit and let me talk to you.
GUNNAR [Sits]. You are silent.
GUNLÖD. You are silent, too.
GUNNAR [Pulls her to his side]. Gunlöd, Gunlöd - has the snow fallen so heavily that memories have been chilled even the mountains here burst forth with fire - and you are cold as a snow wind - but speak - speak! Why are you here in Iceland - and what has happened?
GUNLÖD. Terrible things - and more may follow if you stay here longer. - [Springs up]. Go, before my father comes.
GUNNAR. Do you think I would leave you now - I, who have sought you for long years? When I could not find you in the home land I went to the wars against the Saracens to seek you the other side of the grave. But my time had not yet come; when the fourth spring came, I heard through wandering merchants that you were to be found here. Now I have found you - and you wish me to leave you in this heathen darkness.
GUNLÖD. I am not alone!
GUNNAR. Your father does not love you - your mother does not understand you, and they are both heathen.
GUNLÖD. I have friends among the Christians.
GUNNAR. Then you have become a Christian, Gunlöd! - the holy virgin has heard my prayer.
GUNLÖD. Yes, yes! Oh, let me kiss the cross you bear on your shoulder - that you got at the holy sepulchre!
GUNNAR. Now I give you a brother Christian's kiss - the first, Gunlöd, you have from me.
GUNLÖD. You must never kiss me again.
GUNNAR. But tell me, how did you become a Christian?
GUNLÖD. First I believed in my father - he was so strong; then I believed in my mother - she was so good; last I believed in you - you were so strong and good - and so beautiful; and when you went away - I stood alone - myself I could never believe in - I was so weak; then I thought of your God, whom you so often begged me to love - and I prayed to Him.
GUNNAR. And the old gods -
GUNLÖD. I have never been able to believe in them - although my father commanded me to do so - they are wicked.
GUNNAR. Who has taught you to pray? Who gave you the crucifix?
GUNLÖD. The bishop.
GUNNAR. And that no one knows?
GUNLÖD. No - I have had to lie to my mother and that troubles me.
GUNNAR. And your father hid you here so that the Christians should not get you?
GUNLÖD. Yes - and now he is expected home from Norway with followers as he is to be Erl of the island.
GUNNAR. God forbid!
GUNLÖD. Yes - yes - but you must not delay. He is expected home tonight.
GUNNAR. Good - there beyond Hjärleif's headland lies my ship. - Out to sea! There is a land wind, and before the first cock's crow we shall be beyond pursuit.
GUNLÖD. Yes! Yes!
GUNNAR. Soon we should...
