Ibsen's ninth play can be seen in retrospect (and perhaps even at the time) as a watershed in his work. Certainly, it fitted into the pattern of Ibsen's plays at the time, where he alternated between light fantasies and historical works, often based around Norwegian national events.
However, this was a watershed in a number of ways. It was to be the last of Ibsen's historical national dramas. This may have been because it was also Ibsen's first epic play, ushering in a new phase of ambitious large-scale works, before Ibsen returned to smaller-scale dramas again.
However, one reason why Ibsen may have abandoned this particular genre is that this is Ibsen's first masterpiece, and perhaps he felt that he had taken the historical national drama as far as he could go. Indeed, Ibsen only wrote one more historical play. Everything else he went on to write had a contemporary setting.
One of the more peculiar watersheds though is that this was Ibsen's first truly popular drama, and it made his name as a writer. This is curious, because the subject matter is about failure, and it could even be seen as Ibsen's first obliquely autobiographical work.
The story concerns Earl Skule, later Duke Skule, and his rivalry for the Norwegian crown with Haakon. Skule feels that the throne should rightly be his due to all the hard work he has put in to running Norway during Haakon's childhood. Haakon, on the other hand, believes in his divine right to rule.
It has been suggested that this conflict reflects Ibsen's relationship with another playwright, Bjoernson. Ibsen at the time was overshadowed as a writer by the fame of Bjoernsen, who was a national hero, and the relationship between the two pretenders to the crown could be seen as echoing this relationship.
Ibsen's best translator and biographer, Michael Meyer, goes so far as to call it the rivalry for a 'potentially lesser man'. Personally, I feel this is a stretch that would present Ibsen as being more arrogant than is in evidence in the play. After all, Ibsen had not produced a masterpiece at this stage in his career, and would have had no reason to view himself as being the better man.
Similarly in the play, it is not certain that Skule is the better man for the throne. He is weak and vacillating, tormented by doubts about the rightness of his position. By contrast, Haaakon is fearless and utterly convinced of the rightness of his claim. He also has a powerful vision that Skule lacks, seeking to one day unite the disparate factions to make Norway stronger.
The play is fascinatingly complex and takes time to explore the psychology of the lead characters. However, even the supporting characters have important parts. The presence of Peter, a son for Skule who mysteriously appears in the later part of the play, may seem tacked on. However, there is something fascinating about watching the idealistic son becoming corrupted by his father's ideal. Jatgeir the poet also catches our attention with his chameleon personality hiding a little darker cynicism.
Perhaps the most fascinating grotesque is Bishop Nicholas, another would-be pretender for the throne, who has chosen the church instead of secular power, after discovering that he is too cowardly to be a fighter. This embittered and nasty man serves as a dark tempter and corrupter, an embodiment of all the worst instincts of our heroes, and drags Norway down into the conflict that will prove so devastating.
Overall, the play still has a few creaky contrivances, but for the main part is gripping, and has a pleasing variety of scenes and moods that retain the interest of the reader/audience. Just at the point where Ibsen was beginning to voice his dismay about his unsuccessful writing career, he finally made the breakthrough that would cause him to overtop all his rivals.