赤い部屋 — August Strindberg
You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org . If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title : The Red Room Author : August Strindberg Translator : Ellie Schleussner Release date : August 11, 2011 [eBook #37039] Most recently updated: June 30, 2017 Language : English Other information and formats : www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37039 Credits : Produced by Charlene Taylor, Ron Stephens and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) *** START OF "— The Observer. THE RED ROOM BY AUGUST STRINDBERG AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY ELLIE SCHLEUSSNER LONDON: HOWARD LATIMER. LTD GREAT QUEEN STREET, KINGSWAY MCMXIII Printed by Ballantyne & Company London ltd CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. A Bird's-Eye View of Stockholm 1 II. Between Brothers 15 III. The Artists' Colony 24 IV. Master and Dogs 38 V. At the Publisher's 59 VI. The Red Room 70 VII. The Imitation of Christ 87 VIII. Poor Mother Country 94 IX. Bills of Exchange 107 X. The Newspaper Syndicate "Grey Bonnet" 113 XI. Happy People 124 XII. Marine Insurance Society "Triton" 135 XIII. Divine Ordinance 146 XIV. Absinth 156 XV. The Theatrical Company "Phœnix" 169 XVI. In the White Mountains 182 XVII. Natura.... 197 XVIII. Nihilism 201 XIX. From Churchyard to Public-House 212 XX. On the Altar 226 XXI. A Soul Overboard 232 XXII. Hard Times 239 XXIII. Audiences 247 XXIV. On Sweden 254 XXV. Checkmate 273 XXVI. Correspondence 290 XXVII. Recovery 299 XXVIII. From Beyond the Grave 304 XXIX. Revue 314 XXX. Epilogue 324 CHAPTER I A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF STOCKHOLM It was an evening in the beginning of May. The little garden on "Moses Height," on the south side of the town had not yet been thrown open to the public, and the flower-beds were still unturned. The snowdrops had worked through the accumulations of last year's dead leaves, and were on the point of closing their short career and making room for the crocuses which had found shelter under a barren pear tree; the elder was waiting for a southerly wind before bursting into bloom, but the tightly closed buds of the limes still offered cover for love-making to the chaffinches, busily employed in building their lichen-covered nests between trunk and branch. No human foot had trod the gravel paths since last winter's snow had melted, and the free and easy life of beasts and flowers was left undisturbed. The sparrows industriously collected all manner of rubbish, and stowed it away under the tiles of the Navigation School. They burdened themselves with scraps of the rocket-cases of last autumn's fireworks, and picked the straw covers off the young trees, transplanted from the nursery in the Deer Park only a year ago— nothing escaped them. They discovered shreds of muslin in the summer arbours; the splintered leg of a seat supplied them with tufts of hair left on the battlefield by dogs which had not been fighting there since Josephine's day. What a life it was! The sun was standing over the Liljeholm, throwing sheaves of rays towards the east; they pierced the columns of smoke of Bergsund, flashed across the Riddarfjörd, climbed to the cross of the Riddarholms church, flung themselves on to the steep roof of the German church opposite, toyed with the bunting displayed by the boats on the pontoon bridge, sparkled in the windows of the chief custom-house, illuminated the woods of the Liding Island, and died away in a rosy cloud far, far away in the distance where the sea was. And from thence the wind came and travelled back by the same way, over Vaxholm, past the fortress, past the custom-house and along the Sikla Island, forcing its way in behind the Hästarholm, glancing at the summer resorts; then out again and on, on to the hospital Daniken; there it took fright and dashed away in a headlong career along the southern shore, noticed the smell of coal, tar and fish-oil, came dead against the city quay, rushed up to Moses Height, swept into the garden and buffeted against a wall. The wall was opened by a maid-servant, who, at the very moment, was engaged in peeling off the paper pasted over the chinks of the double windows; a terrible smell of dripping, beer dregs, pine needles, and sawdust poured out and was carried away by the wind, while the maid stood breathing the fresh air through her nostrils. It plucked the cotton-wool, strewn with barberry berries, tinsel and rose leaves, from the space between the windows and danced it along the paths, joined by sparrows and chaffinches who saw here the solution of the greater part of their housing problem. Meanwhile, the maid continued her work at the double windows; in a few minutes the door leading from the restaurant stood open, and a man, well but plainly dressed, stepped out into the garden. There was nothing striking about his face beyond a slight expression of care and worry which disappeared as soon as he had emerged from the stuffy room and caught sight of the wide horizon. He turned to the side from whence the wind came, opened his overcoat, and repeatedly drew a deep breath which seemed to relieve his heart and lungs. Then he began to stroll up and down the barrier which separated the garden from the cliffs in the direction of the sea. Far below him lay the noisy, reawakening town; the steam cranes whirred in the harbour, the iron bars rattled in the iron weighing machine, the whistles of the lock-keepers shrilled, the steamers at the pontoon bridge smoked, the omnibuses rumbled over the uneven paving-stones; noise and uproar in the fish market, sails and flags on the water outside; the screams of the sea-gulls, bugle-calls from the dockyard, the turning out of the guard, the clattering of the wooden shoes of the working-men—all this produced an impress