"A couple that drives each other mad." If someone asked me to sum up August Strindberg's The Dance of Death in a few words that would be my reply. And it could probably be my summary of many works by F. Scott Fitzgerald and of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? as well. If I found it a weaker Strindberg play that is only because I've already read The Father and Miss Julie, which are the superior works, and to which this play owes a great deal.
In my review of Miss Julie I wrote:
Many of the same themes employed in Strindberg's earlier play, The Father, are also at work in Miss Julie, though I think with greater effect in the previous work. Both plays can be characterized as "naturalistic tragedies." Both deal with social Darwinism. Both have the same socio-historical and mythical setting [Eden After the Fall]. In both it is easy to point to instances of the author's misogyny. Both deal with gender issues. . .
And the same comparisons can be made with these works and The Dance of Death, which is (as with most of Strindberg's work) probably at least semi-autobiographical, which takes place in the late-19th century and which is situated mythically in Eden After the Fall. And as the translator (Harry G. Carlson) notes in his introduction to this work, both this work and Miss Julie underscore Strindberg's fascination with "the spirit of fairy tales and the age of chivalry." He writes:
In Miss Julie the heroine dreams of being trapped in a high place and longing to get down. . . . In The Dance of Death tower and earth-as-prison images are fused. Alice feels trapped living with her husband, the Captain, in a military fortifications tower that once served as a prison, on an island called by its inhabitants 'Little Hell' [it reminded me of Karin's (Ingrid Bergman) experience in Roberto Rossellini's Stromboli or of the isolated life depicted in Ingmar Bergman's The Passion of Anna]. The Captain sarcastically describes their situation as 'Sir Bluebeard and the maiden in the tower. . . .
[W]hen Alice's cousin Kurt arrives at the prison tower, she sees him as her liberator. . . .
We wait for the rescuer until finally we discover that he is us. . . .Psychologically, the prison is childhood. One is liberated by overcoming childish fears and accepting grown-up responsibilities, the most important of which is to give and accept love. Put another way, the prisoner must want to be set free to love, just as the rescuer must have the courage to set love free in himself.
Carlson adds in closing that "In the case of Julie and Jean [in Miss Julie], neither prisoner nor rescuer measures up to the task." And the same could be said of the characters in The Dance of Death.
Strindberg (at least based on the first three of his plays that I've read) really reworked the same main themes and ideas over and again, and it could be said that, as Fellini has remarked of his films ("I feel that I am all the time making the same film"), that Strindberg was all the time writing the same play. And, as I've mentioned in my reviews of other works in which this is the case, the same could perhaps be said about the songs of certain songwriters and of the output of many filmmakers, visual artists and novelists (Balzac's Human Comedy, the world of Dickens, Fitzgerald's couples who ruin each other, Springsteen's class consciousness, the existential crises that plague many a main character in the films of Woody Allen).
Having read The Father, which came out in 1887, and then Miss Julie, which made its appearance in 1888, and now The Dance of Death (1900), one of the things I found most interesting was how Strindberg's style changed during that time, for although his themes remained more or less constant, with Miss Julie (as can be ascertained not only by reading the play itself but from Strindberg's lengthy preface to that work), Strindberg's style became much more revolutionary and experimental. One could really take the preface to that work and amend it slightly and put it at the start of The Dance of Death, as thematically they are so similar, and as in both Strindberg's main concern is with the psychological, but in Miss Julie Strindberg did away with act and scene changes and tried making the theatre seem less artificial and more realistic, and trying to hold the audience's attention without interruption. And in that earlier work he also gave some extremely precise set instructions, to ensure that when performed the set would be as realistic as possible and otherwise relying on the audience's imagination rather than presenting an artificial setting. In this play, such meticulous set details are missing and the play is divided into two parts (the second part coming out months after the first), each with two acts and with at least one act in each section also including a change of scene.
Unlike Miss Julie, and many of the plays that would follow this one, this is not a play that could be performed in one sitting. Part I of this play was written in September and had a somewhat happy and hopeful ending, unlike the two earlier plays to which I've compared this one. But in response to the reaction to this work, Strindberg wrote Part II rather hastily, and with what might be viewed as some errors in continuity. I feel that whereas Part I could really stand alone as a complete work in itself (as it seems was the original intent, making it more of a black comedy than a tragedy), Part II really needs the support of Part I and when combined makes the entire work more of a tragedy than a comedy (though, obviously, with several humorous elements).