Plays by August Strindberg, First Series

In Short

This collection presents a quintessential selection of works by an architect of modern drama. Through a blend of sharp realism and dreamlike symbolism, the plays examine the destructive nature of human relationships, the weight of the past, and the absurdity of social roles. Whether depicting the claustrophobic, hateful marriage of a military officer or the surreal, fragmented experience of a celestial being visiting Earth, these dramas endure because they capture the raw, contradictory impulses—the love and the bile—that define the human condition.

The Story

The collection opens with The Dream Play, a work that rejects traditional narrative structure in favor of the fluid, illogical progression of a nightmare. The Daughter of Indra, a celestial deity, descends to Earth to observe the lives of mortals. She encounters various figures—an officer waiting for a singer, a lawyer trapped in the bureaucratic misery of the courts, and a poet who interprets the suffering of humanity. She discovers that life is a "mess" of conflicting desires and systemic injustices, where humans are forced into repetitive, hollow routines. Despite her compassion, she realizes that earthly existence is a dream-image, a place of suffering where "love overcomes everything" yet remains inextricably linked to pain.

The collection then moves into the stark, biting domestic warfare of The Dance of Death, Part I and II. We meet the Captain (Edgar) and his wife, Alice, living in a desolate, isolated fortress. Their marriage is a long-standing, toxic stalemate defined by mutual loathing, petty financial grievances, and a desperate, performative hatred. When their cousin Curt, the Master of Quarantine, arrives, he is pulled into the gravitational field of their dysfunction. The Captain, an aging, manipulative, and often pathetic figure, attempts to control those around him, including the children, through deceit and intimidation. As the Captain’s health fails, the power dynamics shift and fracture. The narrative documents the relentless cycle of their bitterness, culminating in the Captain’s death. In the final moments, the survivors are left to grapple with the void he leaves behind. The tone shifts from sharp, accusatory venom to a confused, quiet reflection on his life. Alice and Curt, having been both his victims and his antagonists, find themselves suddenly confronted by the "wonderful peace of death," struggling to reconcile their lifelong hatred with the strange, unsettling realization that their enemy was, perhaps, as much a prisoner of life’s "hoax" as they were.

How It Unfolds

The celestial descent The Daughter of Indra arrives on Earth and begins to witness the repetitive, soul-crushing labor of humanity. She observes a portress waiting for a lover for decades and a billposter whose greatest life achievement is obtaining a specific piece of fishing gear.

The anatomy of a bedlam The Daughter and the Lawyer dissect the four university faculties, exposing them as a collection of conflicting, nonsensical superstitions. They conclude that the system is a prison, and those who "recover their reason" first are the most miserable.

The arrival of the outsider In the fortress, the Captain and Alice engage in a silver wedding anniversary that is defined by insults and the recycling of old grievances. When Curt arrives, the isolated couple immediately attempts to draw him into their long-running battle for dominance.

The collapse of the tyrant The Captain’s health begins to fail, and his attempts to manipulate his wife and his children become increasingly erratic and desperate. As he loses his grip on his surroundings, the household descends into a state of heightened paranoia and psychological siege.

The peace of the void Following the Captain’s death, the survivors are left in a state of shock and uneasy silence. The final beats transition from the sharp, tactical warfare of the living to a strange, lingering questioning of whether the deceased was a monster or merely a man broken by life.

The People

The Daughter of Indra serves as the moral and cosmic observer. She begins with a belief in the necessity of compassion, but her journey forces her to acknowledge that human life is a dream of suffering from which the only relief is transcendence.

The Captain (Edgar) is a man defined by his own ugliness and a lifetime of perceived slights. He is a master of emotional blackmail, using his status and his failing health to control his wife, Alice, and his children. He dies as he lived: a man who believes himself wronged by existence, yet remains a source of torment to everyone he touches.

Alice is the Captain’s wife, who has spent twenty-five years locked in a tower of hatred. She is cold, tactical, and deeply weary. Her evolution—if one can call it that—is a transition from the active, fiery hatred of a prisoner to the hollowed-out resignation of someone who realizes their own life has been consumed by the very person they despise.

Curt enters as a seemingly neutral, rational figure, acting as the bridge between the couple. He is quickly infected by the atmosphere of the fortress, revealing that even a well-meaning outsider cannot escape the "vampiric" influence of the Captain and Alice’s mutual destruction.

In Its Own Voice

"Children, indeed!--Come here, and I will give you a wreath--one that is more becoming to you. [Puts a crown of thorns on his head]"

The Daughter of Indra offers this bitter, symbolic gift to the Lawyer, highlighting her perception of the inherent suffering of humanity.

"There are dead bodies beneath the flooring, and the place is so filled with hatred that one can hardly breathe."

Curt describes the suffocating atmosphere of the Captain and Alice’s home upon his first arrival.

"I suppose he meant that he had always done right and died as one that had been wronged by life."

Alice attempts to process the Captain's final, hypocritical words, showing her struggle to reconcile her hatred with the reality of his death.

What It's Really About

The work explores the "conflict between the pain of enjoyment and the pleasure of suffering." It argues that human life is a series of repetitive, meaningless cycles—a "tremendous hoax"—where people are cast into roles they cannot escape. The book posits that hatred is a "lining of the coat," an essential, if ugly, layer of the self that binds people together in spite of their desire to separate. It asks whether humans are victims of their own choices or pawns in a cosmic dream where the "fall of heaven into sin" has rendered our reality a broken, distorted copy of a truer, original state.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate psychological intensity and the demolition of social facades will find these plays gripping. The prose is lean and unsentimental, cutting directly to the nerves of its characters. There is a profound, almost brutal honesty here; the dialogue often feels like a series of surgical strikes, where characters strip each other of their defenses until nothing is left but the raw, aching reality of their isolation.

However, one must be prepared for the relentless cynicism of the characters. These are not comforting stories; they are portraits of people who have lost the ability to be kind to one another. The period attitudes—particularly the rigid gender roles and the intense focus on military rank—are clearly dated, reflecting the specific anxieties of a turn-of-the-century Scandinavian society. Yet, the underlying truth remains: the depiction of how people "fasten" themselves onto one another out of a desperate, parasitic need to feel alive feels startlingly relevant. If you can tolerate the claustrophobia and the bitter, sharp-edged tone, you will encounter a writer who fearlessly probes the darkest corners of the human heart, leaving you with questions about your own life that linger long after the curtain falls.