John Gabriel Borkman (1896)
By Henrik Ibsen
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Henrik Ibsen (20th March, 1828 – 23rd May, 1906) is often referred to as the father of realism and ranked just below Shakespeare as Europe’s greatest ever playwright especially as his plays are performed most frequently throughout the world after Shakespeare’s. He was Norwegian and although set his plays in Norway, he wrote them in Danish and lived most of his professional life in Italy and Germany. His affect on the theatre is still evident today and shapes the distinction of plays being art as opposed to entertainment since he broke down all previous traditions and explored issues, developed characterisation, revealed uncomfortable truths, challenged assumptions and brokedown facades in ourselves as well as society. These factors are clearly demonstrated in John Gabriel Borkman, a banker who had previously been imprisoned for investing his clients money without their consent but believes himself innocent of any crime as he had not intended to steal funds or swindle them but was caught before being able to pay back the ‘loans’. Borkman is married to Gunhild but as a young man was in love with her twin, Ella who although still a part of their lives, helping to raise his son whilst he was in prison, is estranged from her twin sister. Ibsen explores the despair felt by Borkman and Ella in this play. The dramatic climax and poetic beauty of his words ensures that this lesser known Ibsen play should not be overlooked.
Henrik Ibsen
Born in 1828, Henrik Ibsen was a Norwegian playwright and poet, often associated with the early Modernist movement in theatre. Determined to become a playwright from a young age, Ibsen began writing while working as an apprentice pharmacist to help support his family. Though his early plays were largely unsuccessful, Ibsen was able to take employment at a theatre where he worked as a writer, director, and producer. Ibsen’s first success came with Brand and Peter Gynt, and with later plays like A Doll’s House, Ghosts, and The Master Builder he became one of the most performed playwrights in the world, second only to William Shakespeare. Ibsen died in his home in Norway in 1906 at the age of 78.
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John Gabriel Borkman (1896) - Henrik Ibsen
John Gabriel Borkman by Henrik Ibsen
The outstanding playwright Henrik Johan Ibsen was born on March 20th, 1828 in Skien, Grenland, Norway.
A playwright, theatre director, and poet Ibsen was a founder of modernism in theatre and is often cited as the the father of realism.
His plays include many classics; Peer Gynt, An Enemy of the People, A Doll's House, Hedda Gabler, Ghosts, The Wild Duck, Rosmersholm and The Master Builder are just some of the many that have helped to ensure he is the most oft performed playwright after Shakespeare.
Ibsen wrote at a time when the stage was heavily censored and writers were expected to observe strict moral codes. Ibsen broke these rules producing controversial works that were unafraid to explore the human condition.
Such was his standing that many playwrights and novelists have claimed him as a seminal influence including George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Arthur Miller, James Joyce and Eugene O'Neill.
Ibsen was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1902, 1903 and 1904.
Although most of his plays were set in Norway he wrote almost everything in Danish which was the then common language of Norway and Denmark. Intriguingly most of his great plays were written whilst he resided in Italy and Germany over a twenty five year period.
Henrik Johan Ibsen died on May 23rd, 1906 in Kristiania (now modern day Oslo), Norway.
Index of Contents
John Gabriel Borkman
Persons
Act First
Act Second
Act Third
Act Fourth
Henrik Ibsen – A Short Biography
Henrik Ibsen – A Concise Bibliography
Task Of The Poet – A Speech by Henrik Ibsen
Selected Poetry of Henrik Ibsen
Notable Quotes Of Henrik Ibsen
CHARACTERS
JOHN GABRIEL BORKMAN, formerly Managing Director of a Bank.
MRS. GUNHILD BORKMAN, his wife.
ERHART BORKMAN, their son, a student.
MISS ELLA RENTHEIM, Mrs. Borkman's twin sister.
MRS. FANNY WILTON.
VILHELM FOLDAL, subordinate clerk in a Government office.
FRIDA FOLDAL, his daughter.
MRS BORKMAN.'S MAID.
SCENE - The action passes one winter evening, at the Manorhouse of the Rentheim family, in the neighbourhood of Christiania.
ACT FIRST
MRS BORKMAN.'s drawing-room, furnished with old-fashioned, faded splendour. At the back, an open sliding-door leads into a garden-room, with windows and a glass door. Through it a view over the garden; twilight with driving snow. On the right, a door leading from the hall. Further forward, a large old-fashioned iron stove, with the fire lighted. On the left, towards the back, a single smaller door. In front, on the same side, a window, covered with thick curtains. Between the window and the door a horsehair sofa, with a table in front of it covered with a cloth. On the table, a lighted lamp with a shade. Beside the stove a high-backed armchair.
MRS. GUNHILD BORKMAN sits on the sofa, crocheting. She is an elderly lady, of cold, distinguished appearance, with stiff carriage and immobile features. Her abundant hair is very grey. Delicate transparent hands. Dressed in a gown of heavy dark silk, which has originally been handsome, but is now somewhat worn and shabby. A woollen shawl over her shoulders.
She sits for a time erect and immovable at her crochet. Then the bells of a passing sledge are heard.
MRS BORKMAN. [Listens; her eyes sparkle with gladness and she involuntarily whispers]. Erhart! At last!
[She rises and draws the curtain a little aside to look out. Appears disappointed, and sits down to her work again, on the sofa. Presently THE MAID enters from the hall with a visiting card on a small tray.
MRS BORKMAN. [Quickly.] Has Mr. Erhart come after all?
THE MAID. No, ma'am. But there's a lady
MRS BORKMAN. [Laying aside her crochet.] Oh, Mrs. Wilton, I suppose
THE MAID. [Approaching.] No, it's a strange lady
MRS BORKMAN. [Taking the card.] Let me see [Reads it; rises hastily and looks intently at the girl.] Are you sure this is for me?
THE MAID. Yes, I understand it was for you, ma'am.
MRS BORKMAN. Did she say she wanted to see Mrs. Borkman?
THE MAID. Yes, she did.
MRS BORKMAN. [Shortly, resolutely.] Good. Then say I am at home.
[THE MAID opens the door for the strange lady and goes out. MISS ELLA RENTHEIM. enters. She resembles her sister; but her face has rather a suffering than a hard expression. It still shows signs of great beauty, combined with strong character. She has a great deal of hair, which is drawn back from the forehead in natural ripples, and is snow-white. She is dressed in black velvet, with a hat and a fur-lined cloak of the same material.
[The two sisters stand silent for a time, and look searchingly at each other. Each is evidently waiting for the other to speak first.
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Who has remained near the door.] You are surprised to see me, Gunhild.
MRS BORKMAN. [Standing erect and immovable between the sofa and the table, resting her finger-tips upon the cloth.] Have you not made a mistake? The bailiff lives in the side wing, you know.
ELLA RENTHEIM. It is not the bailiff I want to see to-day.
MRS BORKMAN. Is it me you want, then?
ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes. I have a few words to say to you.
MRS BORKMAN. [Coming forward into the middle of the room.] Well, then sit down.
ELLA RENTHEIM. Thank you. I can quite well stand for the present.
MRS BORKMAN. Just as you please. But at least loosen your cloak.
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Unbuttoning her cloak.] Yes, it is very warm here.
MRS BORKMAN. I am always cold.
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Stands looking at her for a time with her arms resting on the back of the armchair.] Well, Gunhild, it is nearly eight years now since we saw each other last.
MRS BORKMAN. [Coldly.] Since last we spoke to each other at any rate.
ELLA RENTHEIM. True, since we spoke to each other. I daresay you have seen me now and again when I came on my yearly visit to the bailiff.
MRS BORKMAN. Once or twice, I have.
ELLA RENTHEIM. I have caught one or two glimpses of you, too, there, at the window.
MRS BORKMAN. You must have seen me through the curtains then. You have good eyes. [Harshly and cuttingly.] But the last time we spoke to each other it was here in this room
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Trying to stop her.] Yes, yes; I know, Gunhild!
MRS BORKMAN. - the week before he, before he was let out.
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Moving towards the back.] O, don't speak about that.
MRS BORKMAN. [Firmly, but in a low voice.] It was the week before he was set at liberty.
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Coming down.] Oh yes, yes, yes! I shall never forget that time! But it is too terrible to think of! Only to recall it for the moment, oh!
MRS BORKMAN. [Gloomily.] And yet one's thoughts can never get away from it. [Vehemently; clenching her hands together.] No, I can't understand how such a thing, how anything so horrible can come upon one single family! And then that it should be our family! So old a family as ours! Think of its choosing us out!
ELLA RENTHEIM. Oh, Gunhild, there were many, many families besides ours that that blow fell upon.
MRS BORKMAN. Oh yes; but those others don't trouble me very much. For in their case it was only a matter of a little money or some papers. But for us! For me! And then for Erhart! My little boy, as he then was! [In rising excitement.] The shame that fell upon us two innocent ones! The dishonour! The hateful, terrible dishonour! And then the utter ruin too!
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Cautiously.] Tell me, Gunhild, how does he bear it?
MRS BORKMAN. Erhart, do you mean?
ELLA RENTHEIM. No, he himself. How does he bear it?
MRS BORKMAN. [Scornfully.] Do you think I ever ask about that?
ELLA RENTHEIM. Ask? Surely you do not require to ask
MRS BORKMAN. [Looks at her in surprise.] You don't suppose I ever have anything to do with him? That I ever meet him? That I see anything of him?
ELLA RENTHEIM. Not even that!
MRS BORKMAN. [As before.] The man was in gaol, in gaol for five years! [Covers her face with her hands.] Oh, the crushing shame of it! [With increased vehemence.] And then to think of all that the name of John Gabriel Borkman used to mean! No, no, no, I can never see him again! Never!
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looks at her for a while.] You have a hard heart, Gunhild.
MRS BORKMAN. Towards him, yes.
ELLA RENTHEIM. After all, he is your husband.
MRS BORKMAN. Did he not say in court that it was I who began his ruin? That I spent money so recklessly?
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Tentatively.] But is there not some truth in that?
MRS BORKMAN. Why, it was he himself that made me do it! He insisted on our living in such an absurdly lavish style
ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, I know. But that is just where you should have restrained him; and apparently you didn't.
MRS BORKMAN. How was I to know that it was not his own money he gave me to squander? And that he himself used to squander, too, ten times more than I did!
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Quietly.] Well, I daresay his position forced him to do that, to some extent at any rate.
MRS BORKMAN. [Scornfully.] Yes, it was always the same story, we were to cut a figure.
And he did cut a figure
to some purpose! He used to drive about with a four-in-hand as if he were a king. And he had people bowing and scraping to him just as to a king. [With a laugh.] And they always called him by his Christian names, all the country over, as if he had been the king himself. John Gabriel,
John Gabriel,
John Gabriel.
Every one knew what a great man John Gabriel
was!
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Warmly and emphatically.] He was a great man then.
MRS BORKMAN. Yes, to all appearance. But he never breathed a single word to me as to his real position, never gave a hint as to where he got his means from.
ELLA RENTHEIM. No, no; and other people did not dream of it either.
MRS BORKMAN. I don't care about the other people. But it was his duty to tell me the truth. And that