HEDVIG (throwing herself, sobbing, into GINA’S arms). Mother. Mother!
GINA (pats her on the back and sighs). That’s the way it goes when these crazy people come around, summoning up their ideals.
from Act IV The Wild Duck
Ibsen is direct yet provocative in this statement by Gina as she says, “ . . . crazy people come around, summoning up their ideals” and here is a paradox not easy to resolve. We admire people with firm ideals, the lofty visionary, the inspired leader, the hard-working individual who sacrifices his or her comfort for the betterment of humanity. Think Ghandi or think just about anyone who is selfless. What’s not to admire?
But the problem is that ideals can be carried about by such intensity that they are off-putting. Should we then toss out the ideals because the defenders and proponents of them are so single-minded? Probably not. However, just about everyone has been caught in a conversation, perhaps even with a stranger, who is determined to save the world and is beginning with YOU. This missionary is often filled with facts and enthusiasm, and sometimes with arrogance, blame, much finger-pointing and even condemnation, as he (or she) explains and pronounces on the virtues of a particular course of action. This instruction could be school related, community or nation related, political or social. It’s not hard to find oneself sitting on an airplane next to someone who has A LOT to say about some aspect of our complex world and who wants YOU to join his campaign.
So the question I am asking is about the validity of “crazy people . . . summoning up their ideals.” Gregers congratulates himself on what he considers to be truth telling. Maybe therein lies the problem. His self-congratulation suggests that his penchant for exposing deceit is much more self-serving and pompous than it is kind and protective and amounts, in a way, to lie telling. Leaving devastation behind is not really helpful It is always a good idea to tell the truth. This is a legitimate ideal. But maybe it is also important to prepare the way for truth. I have a friend who says that “people can handle so little truth at a time.” Maybe discretion requires a lot of quiet and gentle entreaty and aftercare in telling the truth, just as a good nurse cares for a patient. Perhaps we are all sick with lies—of various kinds—and love requires truth, but in regular, digestible doses. Maybe I require that same kind of support from time to time myself along with everyone else? Ideals are good. We just need to assimilate them little-by-little, regularly, and just step-by-step, like eating an elephant (ideals are that big)—a bite at a time?
