Ibsen as a scientist

When Nanson first discovers the three documents, he is perplexed as to why Destry-Scholes would include an excerpt of a biography of a dramatist alongside articles about a taxonomist and a statistician. A dramatist whose work relies on creativity and imagination doesn’t belong in the same class as scientists who are concerned with facts and objectivity, Nanson originally believes. On closer inspection, however, both Nanson and the novel’s readers learn that the dramatist, Henrick Ibsen, is of a unique mold and actually goes about his work with the systematic, calculated precision of a scientist. As he is quoted as remarking on page 99, Ibsen has an established process for getting to know the fictional characters about which he writes. His three-step routine for getting to know his characters as acquaintances on a train, then as friends going to the same spa for a month, and finally as intimate friends who hide no secrets bears close resemblance to the scientific method. It is as if the first step is the initial observation and hypothesis, where Ibsen has to make conjectures regarding many of the unknowns of his characters; the second level is the data gathering and initial analysis, where more information is gathered about his characters but coherent interpretation is still lacking; and the third level is the conclusion, where Ibsen has taken into account all of the facts and has accordingly formulated a complete model that penetrates into the very core of his characters. Ibsen also employs scientific objectivity when considering the characters he writes about. As he comments on page 100, “But the human being is in a spiritual sense a long-sighted creature. We see most clearly at a distance; details confuse us; we must get away from what we desire to judge; summer is best described on a winter day.” It thus appears that Ibsen was confronted with a balancing act when becoming acquainted with his characters, as he wished to drill into their innermost nuances while still keeping a measured distance, observing their beating hearts through the lens of a telescope.

With such dedication to owning his characters without getting tangled up in subjectivity and favoritism, it is no wonder that Ibsen’s desire to distance himself from other humans carried over to his personal life. As he states on page 101, “I have a feeling that all I have available in personal relations is a false expression of that which I bear deep within me, and which is really myself; therefore I prefer to keep it locked up inside, and that is why we sometimes seem to stand as if we were observing each other at a distance.” It is as if all of Ibsen’s character analysis has conditioned him to know himself too well, and to recognize that he is incapable of accurately expressing that which is inside him. Perhaps all humans are similarly unable to express what is hidden deep down – we simply do not seriously contemplate this inability because we have less of an understanding of it than did the scientific Ibsen. It could be that Ibsen insisted on distancing himself from friends because he did not want others to see what he observed in his inner nature, which was a haunting portrait of the human framework. It is thus that Ibsen was both a scientist who was able to probe into the human condition as few have been able to, as well as a man who struggled to separate his obsession from his personality.