"Henrik Ibsen - Hedda Gabler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ibsen Henrik)

man had intended to return her letters and photograph to a young lady
to whom he was known to be attached, and had in a fit of aberration
mixed up the two objects of his worship. Some time after, Holm
appeared at Ibsen's rooms. He talked quite rationally, but professed
to have no knowledge whatever of the letter-incident, though he
admitted the truth of Ibsen's conjecture that the "belle dame sans
merci" had demanded the return of her letters and portrait. Ibsen
was determined to get at the root of the mystery; and a little inquiry
into his young friend's habits revealed the fact that he broke his
fast on a bottle of port wine, consumed a bottle of Rhine wine at
lunch, of Burgundy at dinner, and finished off the evening with one
or two more bottles of port. Then he heard, too, how, in the course
of a night's carouse, Holm had lost the manuscript of a book; and in
these traits he saw the outline of the figure of Eilert Lovborg.

Some time elapsed, and again Ibsen received a postal packet from Holm.
This one contained his will, in which Ibsen figured as his residuary
legatee. But many other legatees were mentioned in the instrument--
all of them ladies, such as Fraulein Alma Rothbart, of Bremen, and
Fraulein Elise Kraushaar, of Berlin. The bequests to these meritorious
spinsters were so generous that their sum considerably exceeded the
amount of the testator's property. Ibsen gently but firmly declined
the proffered inheritance; but Holm's will no doubt suggested to him
the figure of that red-haired "Mademoiselle Diana," who is heard of
but not seen in _Hedda Gabler_, and enabled him to add some further
traits to the portraiture of Lovborg. When the play appeared, Holm
recognised himself with glee in the character of the bibulous man of
letters, and thereafter adopted "Eilert Lovborg" as his pseudonym. I
do not, therefore, see why Dr. Brandes should suppress his real name;
but I willingly imitate him in erring on the side of discretion. The
poor fellow died several years ago.

Some critics have been greatly troubled as to the precise meaning of
Hedda's fantastic vision of Lovborg "with vine-leaves in his hair."
Surely this is a very obvious image or symbol of the beautiful, the
ideal, aspect of bacchic elation and revelry. Antique art, or I am
much mistaken, shows us many figures of Dionysus himself and his
followers with vine-leaves entwined their hair. To Ibsen's mind, at
any rate, the image had long been familiar. In _Peer Gynt_ (Act iv.
sc. 8), when Peer, having carried off Anitra, finds himself in a
particularly festive mood, he cries: "Were there vine-leaves around,
I would garland my brow." Again, in _Emperor and Galilean_ (Pt. ii.
Act 1) where Julian, in the procession of Dionysus, impersonates the
god himself, it is directed that he shall wear a wreath of vine-
leaves. Professor Dietrichson relates that among the young artists
whose society Ibsen frequented during his first years in Rome, it
was customary, at their little festivals, for the revellers to deck
themselves in this fashion. But the image is so obvious that there
is no need to trace it to any personal experience. The attempt to
place Hedda's vine-leaves among Ibsen's obscurities is an example of