Iconoclasts: A Book of Dramatists: Ibsen, Strindberg, Becque, Hauptmann, Sudermann, Hervieu, Gorky, Duse and D'Annunzio, Maeterlinck and Bernard Shaw

In Short

This book offers a series of critical portraits of the most influential dramatists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, including Ibsen, Strindberg, Hauptmann, Gorky, Maeterlinck, and Bernard Shaw. Rather than providing simple plot summaries, the text acts as a deep dive into the philosophy, psychology, and artistic intent behind their most famous works. It explores how these "iconoclasts" shattered theatrical conventions to expose the realities of the human condition, making it an essential companion for understanding the evolution of modern, psychologically complex drama.

The Story

The narrative begins with the towering figure of Henrik Ibsen, whom the author presents as an "open door" to the spirit. The exploration of Ibsen’s work is framed as a struggle of souls, where the "missing fourth wall" of the stage allows us to witness the refractions of a playwright’s own inner life. Through analyses of A Doll’s House, The Wild Duck, and Emperor and Galilean, the author maps a journey from the domestic to the mythic, arguing that Ibsen’s true focus was always the "Third Kingdom"—the eventual synthesis of the flesh and the spirit.

From Ibsen, the perspective shifts to the volatile genius of August Strindberg. Here, the arc moves into the realm of intense, often agonizing subjectivity. The author contrasts Strindberg’s own autobiographical torments—his strained relationships and his obsession with the "equality madness"—with the calculated, objective distance of writers like Gerhart Hauptmann. In Hauptmann’s The Weavers, the story broadens to include the collective suffering of the masses, described as a "symphony in five movements" governed by the grim, singular motive of hunger.

The investigation then navigates the shifting boundaries between reality and symbolism. The author examines the work of Henry Becque, Paul Hervieu, and Hermann Sudermann, situating them as bridge-builders between traditional structures and the new, starker naturalism. A significant pivot occurs with the introduction of Maxim Gorky’s Nachtasyl (The Night Refuge), which pushes the boundaries of naturalism into the darkest, most unexplored depths of human existence, surpassing even the efforts of Zola.

The latter half of the book turns to the more lyrical and mystical, focusing on the "dream theatre" of Maurice Maeterlinck. Maeterlinck is presented as a counterpoint to the violent, action-oriented traditions of the past, advocating for a "static" theatre where the most profound life occurs in silence and stillness—the movement of an eyelid or the quiet waiting of an old man in an armchair. This is balanced against the sharp, intellectual light of Bernard Shaw. Shaw is depicted as the "Celtic Siegfried," a slayer of dragons who uses logic and muriatic acid to strip away the comfortable lies of society, even while the author critiques him for stifling the artist’s soul in favor of the social reformer’s agenda. Finally, the book examines the collaboration between Eleonora Duse and Gabriele D’Annunzio, where the focus returns to the "toilette of a woman’s soul," concluding that the true dramatic adventure lies in exploring the primary passions that define the human experience.

How It Unfolds

The dramatic threshold The analysis opens by establishing Ibsen as the architect of the modern soul, viewing the stage as a transparent enclosure where inner struggles become visible.

The descent into subjectivity The focus shifts to Strindberg, detailing how his personal suffering and intense temperament informed a new, more jagged style of dramatic expression.

The collective cry The narrative moves to the works of Hauptmann, moving away from the individual to examine the brutal, symphonic reality of poverty and hunger.

The naturalistic expansion A section is dedicated to Gorky, illustrating how his work dives deeper into human misery than the established French naturalists dared to go.

The mystical stillness The discussion pivots to Maeterlinck, who argues that the most significant human moments happen in silence rather than through overt action or violence.

The logical interrogation The book concludes with an examination of Shaw, highlighting his role as an intellectual provocateur who forces the audience to confront harsh, unvarnished truths.

The People

Henrik Ibsen stands at the center as the "arch-symbolist," a man who demands that his characters and his audience stand on their own feet, even while he pathologizes the constraints of middle-class domesticity. August Strindberg is portrayed as a "culture hero" of suffering, a man whose enormous, turbulent output was forged in the fires of personal crisis and a profound, often irrational, rebellion against his environment.

Gerhart Hauptmann appears as the objective, cold-eyed observer of the "abysmal depths," stripping away the palliatives of art to expose the sheer ghastliness of human want. Maxim Gorky is the "Bitter One," a writer carved from granite who brings a new, harrowing authenticity to the representation of the lowest human strata. Maurice Maeterlinck emerges as the eclectic mystic of the 20th century, a man who rejects the "brutality" of traditional plot for the quiet, universal vibrations of destiny. Bernard Shaw is the red-bearded "Celtic Siegfried," a brilliant, witty, and relentless critic who values facts and reality above all else, often to the detriment of beauty and poetic feeling. Finally, the actress Eleonora Duse is highlighted for her ability to breathe life into the "morbidities" of D’Annunzio’s work, turning his psychological dissections into a visceral, living experience for the spectator.

In Its Own Voice

"Whatever else Ibsen's works may be, they are first soul dramas; the human soul is not only their shadowy protagonist, but it is the stake for which his characters breathlessly game."

The author establishes the primary focus of his opening chapter on Ibsen’s dramatic method.

"The Weavers is a symphony in five movements, with one grim, leading motive--hunger."

This sentence captures the author’s assessment of Hauptmann’s objective and harrowing masterpiece of social realism.

"The mysterious chant of the Infinite, the ominous silence of the soul and of God, the murmur of Eternity on the horizon, the destiny or fatality that we are conscious within us... do not all these underlie King Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet?"

The author reflects on Maeterlinck’s belief that the greatest dramas are built on these silent, spiritual foundations.

What It's Really About

The book is a sustained inquiry into the purpose of the theatre in an age of shifting values. It argues that modern drama moved away from the "violence of the anecdote"—the superficial plot twists of traditional plays—to become a vehicle for spiritual and social excavation. The central tension lies between the "World-Lie," the comfortable illusions that people use to mask the harshness of reality, and the "iconoclasts" who seek to pull those veils away. It asks whether the stage should serve as a moral laboratory, a site for poetic mystery, or a battlefield for social reform, ultimately concluding that the most enduring art is that which faces the "naked fact" of human existence without blinking.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the history of ideas or the development of modern drama will find this book an invaluable, if opinionated, guide. It captures the intellectual fervor of the early 20th century, a time when the theatre felt like the most dangerous and exciting place in the world. The prose is dense, evocative, and unapologetically high-brow; it does not cater to those who prefer their criticism simple or detached.

One of the book’s greatest challenges is the author’s tendency toward intense, sometimes breathless, lists of philosophers and obscure European playwrights, which assumes a significant level of prior knowledge. However, for those willing to engage with its rhythm, the book offers a rare, immersive sense of what it was like to encounter these plays as they were still shaking the foundations of society. The discussion of "hunger" in Hauptmann or the "ennui" of Ibsen’s women remains startlingly relevant. What stays with the reader is the author’s absolute conviction that art is a matter of life and death, and that the "open door" of the stage is the only way to glimpse the terrifying, beautiful truth of the human soul.