"A man with a so-called character is often a simple piece of mechanism; he has often only one point of view for the extremely complicated relationships of life"
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The jab lands on the word “so-called.” Strindberg isn’t praising character; he’s indicting the Victorian-era fetish for it. “Character” in polite society reads as moral solidity, a stable brand of virtue you can bank on. Strindberg hears something uglier: rigidity dressed up as integrity.
Calling such a man “a simple piece of mechanism” is more than insult; it’s dramaturgy. A machine performs reliably, but only within its narrow design. It can’t improvise when the situation gets human. Strindberg’s theater is crowded with people who mistake stubbornness for principle, who grind their one moral gear against the messy, shifting demands of love, class, money, and power. That “one point of view” becomes a kind of moral monoculture: efficient for self-justification, disastrous for intimacy and politics alike.
The line also telegraphs Strindberg’s broader suspicion of bourgeois respectability. In a world of “extremely complicated relationships,” the claim to a single coherent character can be a social weapon: it simplifies other people into types, declares certain desires illegitimate, and keeps ambiguity from contaminating one’s self-image. The mechanism doesn’t just fail to understand complexity; it protects itself from understanding it.
Strindberg’s intent feels both psychological and combative: to strip the halo off “character” and reveal the easier truth underneath - that what’s marketed as depth is often a refusal to adapt, listen, or change.
Calling such a man “a simple piece of mechanism” is more than insult; it’s dramaturgy. A machine performs reliably, but only within its narrow design. It can’t improvise when the situation gets human. Strindberg’s theater is crowded with people who mistake stubbornness for principle, who grind their one moral gear against the messy, shifting demands of love, class, money, and power. That “one point of view” becomes a kind of moral monoculture: efficient for self-justification, disastrous for intimacy and politics alike.
The line also telegraphs Strindberg’s broader suspicion of bourgeois respectability. In a world of “extremely complicated relationships,” the claim to a single coherent character can be a social weapon: it simplifies other people into types, declares certain desires illegitimate, and keeps ambiguity from contaminating one’s self-image. The mechanism doesn’t just fail to understand complexity; it protects itself from understanding it.
Strindberg’s intent feels both psychological and combative: to strip the halo off “character” and reveal the easier truth underneath - that what’s marketed as depth is often a refusal to adapt, listen, or change.
Quote Details
| Topic | Wisdom |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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