Considering Ibsen's Peer Gynt

Last year I planned to read 50 Plays and write a response to each one. I read far less than 50 and only wrote one response. But I figure I might as well share it with you so here it is.

Described as a play in five acts, Peer Gynt is very much an episodic narrative with the ongoing fantastic encounters of our ‘hero’ heading inexorably to the final conclusion where, Faust-like he gets an unexpected reprieve.

Structurally, the play can be divided more into three than five. The first three acts are adventures in Peer’s youth where he meets Solveig and culminating in his mother’s death; the two together seem to drive him to flee the country. The fourth act is a sample of Peer’s adventures overseas while the fifth act is his return home in old age and his attempt to run from fate (O Sinner Man, where you going to run to?)

The episodes in the first phase all follow on one after the other, but there are jumps in time thereafter, which seems slightly incongruous. I can see this play working better in three acts; condensing the first three and possibly expanding the last two.

In the end this is very much a moral tale but the moral is to be yourself, whatever your lot. Peer’s various adventures are driven by his desires but also by his willingness to mould himself to the situation. When mistaken for a prophet he becomes a prophet; when asked to be a troll he’s fine with that until he learns it’s forever and he can’t roam. Being trapped, or rather accepting his situation and living it, is something Peer is unwilling to do. He loves Solveig in a fashion but the permanency drives him away – especially without his mother to hold him in place.

The fantastic nature of the adventures and Peer’s willingness to accept them all without surprise drive the action on in an entertaining fashion. His justifications and swift about-faces also keep the tone light, with the lot of Solveig and Aase’s death the only real points of drama.

The fifth act has a more didactic feel to it than the first four as Peer’s life draws to an end and he must finally face up to who he is – which is no-one as he has never been himself. There’s a lot of moralising which slows it down somewhat, but the final few scenes with the Button moulder flow quite quickly and echo Everyman.

In all it’s a light entertainment that pushes a message too hard at the end when it might be better left to example. The structure could be greatly condensed to strengthen it and make the jump in time between Act 3 and Act 4 less jarring. I suppose interval would be had in between but the story should allow for no interval.

What’s noteworthy in light of my ideas of narration are Peer’s speeches between his adventures. These are again quite fantastical but he drives the creation of a whole world through his imagination. He becomes an emperor in his own mind or an historian who is again an emperor but through manipulation of history; trees take on different aspects, he becomes an onion he is peeling. The speeches are illustrative and symbolic and tell us as much of the real story and nature of the play as the scenes themselves.

Reading Round-up

I thought it might be worthwhile to cast a reflective eye over some of the things I read during the first half of the year. A number of things really don’t require much discussion; I was just catching up with what many people already know. I finally caught up with the first two Discworld novels for instance, although I’m loathe to admit I actually expected a bit more from them – possibly the vice of too much success. I also read Game of Thrones, in some ways bowing to peer pressure but seriously, it’s right up my alley anyway. It truly is epic in scope, while remaining character-orientated and is just generally beautiful fantasy. I was less impressed with the TV series I hate to say, I enjoy it but it just skips too quickly over things and doesn’t give the depth that makes the book so good.
Very recently I read Marianne de Pierre’s YA novel Burn Bright, and I didn’t waste much time finding, buying and starting its sequel Angel Arias. This is undeniably YA but that really doesn’t matter when it’s written so well. It’s dark and strangely seductive, with an ominous atmosphere that lures you in. The only problem is the third book isn’t out yet.
In terms of the 50 Plays in 2012 plan, I’ve only managed two full length ones and two short ones; so not going quite to plan. I’m downgrading the target to 15-20 and will publish my responses to them on my website when I’m done. Don’t hold your breath but it will happen.
I have read a lot of short stories lately, both on my e-reader and in anthologies. I think they’re really good ways to discover writers and series. You get a taste without having to set aside huge amounts of time – there are authors who probably just need to cut it down a bit, sure epic is good but a lot of epics suffer from mid-book drag I find – and of course they have their own traits which make for intriguing reading.
Two of the anthologies I read bring me to a decision/realisation I made about what I read and how to think of it. They were The Best of the Realms Vol 1 and Heroes of the Space Marines. Already there will be some who read that who scoff, frown, smirk or in some way look down upon these books and their like. They’re not “serious” literature or even “serious SF”; they’re mass-market, escapist guff; at worst they’re just commercialised tie-ins with no “creative merit”. Firstly, I didn’t think all those things, but I was aware of the disdain they’re held in. Check Goodreads reviews of titles from this ilk and you’ll find people admitting to their ‘guilty’ pleasure in reading them, or generally panning them – but hey, you read them people.
Now, it’s difficult to actually define this ‘type’ of book; it’s not a specific sub-genre, but you can hopefully see what I mean. These are book written to entertain yes, they are filled with adventure and action and don’t weigh themselves down with introspection or literary cleverness. I guess what I’m talking about are in many ways the ancestors of pulp SF, sword and sorcery etc. I have read a lot of them in the past and have more of them to read, part of me felt the scorn and thought to myself, if I want to be a writer I’m meant to read the ‘high-end’ stuff. Reading The Best of the Realms, I thought, wait a minute, who defines high-end? Why should I be bothered by people’s prejudices? And, if I’m honest, isn’t this the sort of book The Scarlet Ring is?
Which is all a way of me saying I’ve decided to read what I want and to ignore all the ridiculous notions out there about ‘serious’ anything. I won’t feel bad for reading something or think of how I need to get back to ‘worthier’ books – a phrase I recently saw go to print by someone currently reading Game of Thrones (I dread to think what she’d make Heroes of the Space Marines). Judge not by prejudice, judge by content and what you enjoy.

Read on and keep dreaming!