Ibsen, An Enemy of the People

 

Henrik Ibsen

    

A fascinating play, performed by Cambridge students at the ADC Theatre. It ought not to have worked; most of the characters seemed to be wearing their street clothes, and two of the males had earrings, while Stockmann’s wife had stylish nail varnish, but in the spirit of true theatre, you suspended your disbelief as the plot revealed. The play even survived teacups being replaced by baby drink containers, used, I heard from people in the audience, because the stage manager refused to do a risk assessment about liquids on stage. 

To be honest, the plot is not complicated. Dr Stockmann discovers a contamination problem with the water supply for the local baths. But when he reveals the issue, his sister (who happens to be the town mayor) prevents him revealing the story, claiming the cost of fixing the problem would have to be borne by the householders, with the baths closed for two years. At a public meeting, the doctor is outmanoeuvred by the local notables.

There things would end, except that Ibsen introduces a couple of twists in the second half. The doctor rails against public opinion, and produces some rather unsettling complaints against the masses. The masses are stupid, but the stupid majority will always overrule the clever minority. There is more than a hint of racial superiority here: the idea that the best political system is an autocracy, rule by the aristocracy, or rule by a meritocracy. That mass opinion overrides other views is of course one of the major failings of democracy: a referendum on capital punishment in the UK would almost certainly reintroduce it. That does not mean, however, that the majority is stupid.

Ibsen’s rather uncompromising idealism means he pushes the character of Stockman until he becomes a Christ-like figure, and a further late twist emphasises his moral purity – and his practical weakness. His father-in-law,  Morten Kiil, buys up shares in the baths and offers them to Stockmann so his family have something for the future. But to accept shares in the Baths, Stockmann would have to repudiate his principles – so he refuses.

So there is the question: how far do you go for your principles? What struck me were the scarily close links to the present day. The local paper I read would not dream of offending public opinion. Several times more space has been given to residents complaining about the East-West railway that might be positioned near their garden than to anyone presenting a more balanced case. But perhaps the play survives because Ibsen had the awareness to present Stockmann, his prophet (well captured in this production) with a streak of manic enthusiasm, which made his performance entertaining, and even comic, if ultimately unrealistic. We dream about sticking to our principles, but after the play is over, we go back to compromise. Life is easier that way.