The Wanderer, the Scholar, and the Fool: An Analysis of Hedda Gabler and Her Three Men

My friend Jean and I saw Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler and engaged in a long discussion about it afterward. The gunshots that were fired on stage still rang in our ears. But what truly lingered in our minds was not just Hedda’s death at the end, but also her yearning for destruction and to be understood, which was suffocating.

Jean said that Hedda was trapped like a wild beast. That reminded me, in that play, in the role of a general’s daughter, she was often seen fiddling with a pistol. Hedda tried to break free from who she was under the constraints of society. She spoke out of both sides of her mouth and constantly tried to manipulate others.

A “crazed woman” in a gilded cage

Hedda lived in a cage, albeit an invisible one. In private, she handled a gun like a man. In public, society demanded that she be demure and “act like a lady.” She looked down on those around her, yet feared scandal, and dared not be too rebellious. These contradictions led her to bristle, like an aggressive hedgehog.

Hedda appears to be a moody “crazed woman.” But if that external shell of madness is stripped away, what lies beneath is a soul yearning for freedom that is unable to find its way out. For Jean, this play brought up mixed emotions as she shared her experience of having been married and her struggles within the framework known as “home” or “family.” She understood Hedda’s feeling of helplessness, “of wanting to break free but having to turn her back on the world.” Thea Elvsted bravely left her husband to follow Eilert Lovborg. To put it bluntly, Hedda’s malicious treatment of her was because Thea did what Hedda did not dare to do: run away for love, without regard for her reputation.

The people we detest are often those who are like what we long to be, but don’t have the courage to be.

George Tesman: Stability and boredom, two sides of the same coin

Hedda married George Tesman. He was a diligent academic and a “good man” but very dull.

To marry this woman of nobility, a general’s daughter, George took out a huge loan to purchase a villa. In the eyes of the world, he was the perfect choice for a husband, loyal and honest. However, in Hedda’s eyes, he was a perpetually immature “mama’s boy,” who constantly talked about his aunt and old slippers.

As we discussed this point, as Jean experienced something similar, her tone became weary. She said that the reason she chose to divorce her husband was that he had reached the limit of what he could offer her. “I don’t need to live a life of luxury,” Jean said. “But there were places in my heart that could no longer bear that endless drain.”

George gave Hedda an expensive house but could not give her space to breathe. Oftentimes, women marry for “a sense of security,” only to find that a sense of security is a slow-acting sugar-coated poison. Hedda despised George’s mediocrity yet depended on his financial provision. This seems like a cruel symbiotic relationship: she needed his money to maintain her dignity but used disdain to feed her own pride.

Eilert Lovborg: Burning that only token of the soul

George is as real as bread, while Eilert is Hedda’s old flame.

He was talented, but he was also a wanderer who often squandered his talents and (possibly) the only man Hedda ever loved. But he was dangerous, so dangerous that Hedda once pointed a gun at him and told him to leave. Years later, when they met again, Eilert had written a masterpiece, with the help of another woman, Thea, and had turned over a new leaf, even giving up drinking.

Hedda became consumed with jealousy. Why wasn’t she the one to save Eilert?

She burned the manuscript that Eilert had carelessly misplaced. As Hedda tossed the pages of his life’s work into the fire, she took away her rival’s victory, in addition to her own unfulfilled creativity. Unable to be a muse, she chose to be a destroyer.

Hedda then gave Eilert her father’s gun and told him to “die beautifully.” This was an extremely cruel and romantic act. She hoped that by manipulating Eilert’s life and death, she could prove that she still had some influence in this world. Unable to be reborn in love, they could be together forever in destruction.

Judge Brack: A look that only we understand

In addition to these two men, there is Judge Brack.

Judge Brack is the most terrifying, yet most captivating, character. He sees through Hedda’s misanthropy and vanity. He has evidence that she instigated a suicide. But instead of exposing her, he chooses to slowly tighten his grip, intending to turn Hedda into his caged bird.

Jean had an intriguing take on this character. She said, “Don’t you think that in life, we all want to find someone like the judge?”

Hedda and Judge Brack are “kindred spirits.” They are evenly matched intellectually and test each other in their quests for power. We crave this kind of connection: one that has a material basis and resonates with the soul, with an opponent who can read between the lines. We want the stability of George, the literary talent of Eilert, and the understanding and control of Judge Brack.

But reality is often not as clear-cut as a script.
We are all Hedda, struggling between desire and compromise.

That night, as I looked at Jean, I suddenly noticed an overlap between her and Hedda. They are both charming and dissatisfied with the status quo. They are also searching for that outlet that will enable them to “live like humans.”

Jean said that she has only satisfied the first point: quality of life. She is still searching for someone with whom she can have a deep soulful exchange. She even hopes to be like Eilert and leave her mark on the world with her works and voice.

Hedda chooses to take her own life with a gun beneath her father’s portrait upon realizing that she could not escape the web woven by these three men no matter what she did. George’s mediocrity was suffocating her, Eilert’s death disillusioned her, and Judge Brack’s extortion stripped her of her dignity. She preferred death to compromise.

We are more fortunate than Hedda. Although in our hearts we all harbor a “crazed woman” yearning for destruction and rebirth, we are learning how to find a less-than-perfect balance amid our choices. Perhaps we don’t need to pursue extreme “beauty” like Hedda. By honestly confronting that cage in our hearts we are already braver than her.

Photo credit: National Kaohsiung Center for the Arts (Weiwuying)
Photography by: Lin Chun-Yong