Hurdles in understanding Act III
I too read slowly, Janine, though faster by the third, fourth or fifth read.
This respite in our discussion has allowed me to systematically imagine each step the ending through all eyes. Only Dostoevsky's 'The Idiot' occasioned more reflection.
The interaction in Act III between Mrs Alving and Oswald is a minefield of emotional complexity. Some of the stumbling blocks, which must be explained, include:
Mrs. Alving (coming in from the garden). I can't get him away from the fire.
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Oswald. Everything will be burned up; nothing will be left that is in memory of my father. Here am I being burned up, too.
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Mrs: Alving. Let me dry your face, Oswald; you are all wet.
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Mrs. Alving. You said yourself this evening what would happen in your case if you stayed at home.
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Mrs. Alving. Well, then this boy[Captain Alving], full of the joy of life−−for he was just like a boy, then−−
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Mrs. Alving. I had been taught about duty, and the sort of thing that I believed in so long here. Everything seemed to turn upon duty−−my duty, or his duty−−and I am afraid I made your poor father's home unbearable to
him, Oswald.
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Mrs. Alving. I only saw the one fact, that your father was a lost man before ever you were born.
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Mrs. Alving. Regina−−I can see quite well−−you are going to your ruin!
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Mrs. Alving. Yes, about your unhappy father. I am so afraid it may have been too much for you.
Oswald. What makes you think that?
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Oswald. When the child has nothing to thank his father for? When he has never known him?
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Mrs. Alving. Ghosts of beliefs!
Oswald (walking across the room). Yes, you might call them ghosts.
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Oswald. The sun is rising−−and you know all about it; so I don't feel the fear any longer.
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Oswald. I had one attack while I was abroad. It passed off quickly. But when I learned the condition I had been in, then this dreadful haunting fear took possession of me.
Mrs. Alving. That was the fear, then−−
Oswald. Yes, it is so indescribably horrible, you know. If only it had been an ordinary mortal disease−−. I am not so much afraid of dying; though, of course, I should like to live as long as I can.
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Oswald. But this is so appallingly horrible. To become like a helpless child again−−to have to be fed, to have to be−−. Oh, it's unspeakable!
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Mrs. Alving (bending over him). ...You shall have everything you want, just as you did when you were a little child.−−There, now. The attack is over. You see how easily it passed off! I knew it would.−−And look, Oswald, what a lovely day we are going to have? Brilliant sunshine. Now you will be able to see your home properly.
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Oswald. (who has been sitting motionless in the armchair, with his back to the scene outside, suddenly says:-) Mother, give me the sun.
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Mrs. Alving. (going up to him). ...(Throws herself on her knees beside him and shakes him.) Oswald! Oswald! Look at me! Don't you know me!
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