Wild Duck

This dialogue toward the beginning of Act V introduces the motif of the "Livslognen" or "life-illusion." It takes place between the play's rival "doctors," two men in conflict over the Ekdals's fate. Relling opposes Gregers's continuous appeals to the "claim of the ideal" with a quasi- medical or psychological discourse. This turn to a discourse of psychology is one of the defining aspects of Ibsen's drama. For Relling, Hialmar suffers not from spiritual tumult but illness. He requires a remedy; the "stimulating principle" of illusion. The ideal does not figure as some moral or spiritual imperative but is yet another pathology, as closely related to the lie as typhus is to putrid fever. The "life-lie" is an "inoculation" against the pathological effects of these delusions, an illusion that makes the patient's survival possible.

Having just revealed the treasure of the garret to Gregers, Ekdal recounts the story of the wild duck in Act II. The wild duck is a "quilting point" for most of the characters' fantasies of themselves and those around them; its tale comes to serve as an allegory for much of the play's action. Thus Ekdal figures as the wild duck in having been betrayed and shot down by his old partner Werle. He has sunk into his reveries never to return. Gregers imagines Hialmar as the wild duck in his entrapment in the "poisonous marshes" of his household, the tangle of deceit that makes his marriage possible. In contrast, he imagines himself in the figure of the clever dog that would rescue the wounded bird. He also considers himself the wild duck in becoming the Ekdals' adopted tenant. Lastly Hedvig figures as the wild duck in losing her family and place of origin—she is in some sense her father's adopted child.

This excerpt comes from Act V during Hialmar's comic return to the household. Much of The Wild Duck's action consists of domestic activity, generally performed or supervised by the ever-practical Gina. Gina will, for example, tabulate the day's expenses, prepare and serve lunch, clean the apartment, and onward. In contrast, Hialmar cannot bear these banalities—they only divert him from his "mission" to redeem the family name. Ibsen repeatedly deploys petty household concerns to deflate Hialmar's fiery tirades in his attempt to undermine the romantic stage hero. Even if he screams that he cannot stomach living amongst traitors, Hialmar has no intention of leaving his home as it is there that he is cared for. Moreover, as the first act makes all too clear, it is only here that he can play what Relling describes as the "shining light," the idealized father and provider even if, as Gina's quiet management of the household economies reveal, this is hardly the case.

This dialogue appears in Act III, offering a view into the space in the Ekdal household dedicated to the production of fantasy: the back room garret. As we recall, the garret is the home of the wild duck and dream-space of the more fanciful members of the Ekdal household. It is here that Hedvig daydreams her fantastic journeys, Ekdal theatrically returns to his hunting days, and Hialmar finds a diversion from his toil. Accordingly, the dialogue between Hedvig and Gregers lends the garret a frozen, mythic temporality. Its broken clock indicates that time has come to a standstill. The allegorical image of Death, the hourglass, and the woman suggest that a mythic or cosmic time is at work within. This mythic time becomes especially important with Hedvig's ultimate suicide, her death figuring in a sense as a revenge for the mysterious crime committed against the woods many generations ago. With this in mind, note that Hedvig does not so much read her history book as a chronicle than as a visual point of departure for her flights of fancy.

This dialogue between Relling and Gregers closes the play. Hedvig has died to no redemptive end. The sardonic Dr. Relling thus delivers a sort of epitaph on the romantic, Salvationist hero cut here by Gregers. Life would be "quite tolerable" if missionaries left men in their poverty rather than preaching the delusions of the ideal. Thus Gregers makes a melancholic exit from a world in which he in a sense has come to have no place. His destiny is to be the "thirteenth at the table," that is, the guest outside the circle of diners. His number recalls the figure of Judas at the Last Supper, and Relling also identifies him as the devil or Antichrist. Gregers's insistence on the ideal condemns him to a false gospel that drives him to the betrayal of his friends and brings ruin to their houses.