Henrik Ibsen.
They say that Norwegians are born with skis on their feet. One thing that may be less obvious to outsiders is that in addition to their affection for skiing, Norwegians are also very proud of their artists. Composer Edvard Grieg, painter Edvard Munch, and writer Henrik Ibsen are the pride and joy of Norwegian society. Those three men are often talked about in tandem; Ibsen wrote the plays, Grieg wrote the music for Ibsen’s plays, and Munch painted his famed counterparts.
As a junior at Luther College and a native of Fillmore County, I’m currently studying abroad in Lillehammer, Norway, and taking classes devoted to the history, culture, and lifestyle of this wonderful country. I honestly did not know much about Henrik Ibsen before traveling across the pond, but now that I’m a proper Norwegian citizen I have come to realize how highly he is regarded. For example, I had to memorize a poem he wrote the very first week of my Norwegian language course. My cultural studies class featured an entire lecture about the literature of Norway, which could have been titled “Henrik Ibsen….and maybe a few other guys, too.” At one point in his career, Ibsen was fed up with Norway and remained abroad for almost 30 years; but despite this abandonment, Norway’s history has not abandoned Henrik Ibsen as their most prized writer.
One reason that Norwegians regard Ibsen so highly is that he is seen as a preserver of their culture. Many of his plays are based on traditional Norwegian fairy tales and address controversial issues, so the people see his work and his fame as a safe hold in maintaining their cultural history. The city of Oslo, which was called Kristiania during his lifetime, is brimming with homage to Ibsen. To investigate Oslo’s adoration of Ibsen, I took the gorgeous, two-hour train ride to visit some of the places that he graced back in his day.
Before heading to the Ibsen museum that fine day in March, I stopped by the historic Grand Café. This now-swanky restaurant used to be an artist hangout spot, and people would walk by at a specific time each afternoon to catch a glimpse of Ibsen drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Today there is a large mural that features the many famous artists who frequented the café, but with his unmistakable facial hair and undeniable prominence in Norwegian culture, Ibsen is rightfully seated as the centerpiece of the work.
After peeking into the Grand Café, I continued down Henrik Ibsen’s Street to the museum. It was a relatively small but impressive place, filled with memorabilia including a first edition copy of Peer Gynt and a pair of his signature wire glasses. I meandered through the museum to learn about how he incorporated his own quirks into his characters and wove contemporary issues and his own criticisms of society into his storylines. The most remarkable part of the museum is that it is attached to the fully-restored apartment where Ibsen spent his last 11 years.
Now that I’m aware of Norway’s special pride in Ibsen, I notice his presence a lot more than I did before. While strolling through the Munch museum, I was automatically drawn to a portrait of Ibsen; even through Munch’s expressionistic swirls and strokes, Ibsen’s distinctive look leaves no room for debate on who the man in the painting is. While paying for groceries at the store the other day, I picked up a curious coin that featured Ibsen’s signature and the image of his glasses on it. Things like these show just how influential Henrik Ibsen has been in Norwegian history, and just how dedicated the people are to maintaining his literature and their culture.
No comments:
Post a Comment