Sometimes I’m seized by a passionate desire to say exactly what I’m thinking; but I know that if people were absolutely frank the world would come to an end.

The Ghost Sonata

I watched a good video by booktuber R.C. Waldun today. In it, he talked about the need for academics and thinkers to get out in the world and actually live. He described writing as the crossover between living and reading (and, implied, grappling with ideas). This made so much sense to me. I was left motivated to live more, outside of the daily routine of work, and to write more.

That said… As I try to collect my thoughts on August Strindberg (1849–1912), I realize the things which challenged (or even offended) me in his writing are the very things that make his writing an emblem of his life—the crossover between his ideas and his personal identity. This is not unique to Strindberg, of course. From this, I have to ask—how does one “review” a piece of someone’s life?

Continue reading “Writing vs. Being: Miss Julie and Other Plays by August Strindberg” →