This article will cover a few more incidents
of particular interest. It describes some minor accidents and bizarre and
offensive behaviour by random strangers that ruined Strindberg’s enjoyment when
he visited a café and a restaurant.
After describing one accident, Strindberg assures
the reader that he is speaking the truth. I believe that Strindberg is indeed telling
the truth in his accounts of all these incidents. You couldn’t make all this up!
The small details are very convincing, and once again there are some familiar
elements in his stories.
Strindberg and the café incidents
Not long after he had performed his evil
action, Strindberg experienced a string of small but very annoying and
sometimes amusing - although not to him - incidents every time he went to a
certain Paris café.
Strindberg’s main pleasure in life at the time was to sit with a glass of absinthe, a cigarette and some newspapers under a chestnut tree on the terrace of a café that he favoured. He would go in the early evening to relax for an hour or so after finishing his day’s work; he favoured a particular spot that he thought of as his place. Then it all started to go wrong:
Strindberg’s main pleasure in life at the time was to sit with a glass of absinthe, a cigarette and some newspapers under a chestnut tree on the terrace of a café that he favoured. He would go in the early evening to relax for an hour or so after finishing his day’s work; he favoured a particular spot that he thought of as his place. Then it all started to go wrong:
“...this hour of a visionary happiness, for
from this evening onwards it is disturbed by a series of annoyances which
cannot be attributed to chance. ... I find my place, which has been reserved
for me daily for nearly two years, occupied; all the other chairs are also
taken. Deeply annoyed, I have to go to another café.”
He returned the next day, only for this to
happen:
“My old corner ... is again vacant, and I am
again under my chestnut behind the Marshal, feeling contented, even happy. My
well-concocted absinthe is there, my cigarette lighted, and
the Temps spread out.
Then a drunken man passes; a hateful-looking
fellow, whose mischievous, contemptuous air annoys me. His face is red, his
nose blue, his eyes malicious. I taste my absinthe, and feel happy not to be
like this sot.... There! I don't know how, but my glass is upset and empty.
Without sufficient money to order another, I pay for this and leave the café.
Certainly it was again the Evil One who played me this trick.”
It isn’t really funny, but the universe came
up with some good ways to ruin Strindberg’s hour of evening enjoyment. After
staying away for a day, he returned only to be inconvenienced yet again:
“I have slunk round the terrace of the Lilas,
and at last found my corner unoccupied. One must fight the evil spirits and
begin the war oneself. The absinthe is made, the cigarette glows, and
the Temps has important news. Then (I speak the truth, reader), a
chimney of the café over my head takes fire! There is a universal panic. I
remain sitting, but a stronger will than mine directs a cloud of soot with such
a good aim on me, that two large flakes settle on my glass. Disconcerted, but
as unbelieving and sceptical as ever, I depart.”
The black cloud of soot seems symbolic!
He stayed away for almost two weeks, then longing
for the café and his chestnut tree overcame him. He went back to find that his
usual place was occupied. He sat down elsewhere, and became surrounded by a
huge family. They were thoughtless and inconsiderate; they pushed past his
chair and took his matches without asking.
It was the last straw when one of the young men put a small coin on Strindberg’s table. He assumed that he had been mistaken for a beggar and became blind with anger:
It was the last straw when one of the young men put a small coin on Strindberg’s table. He assumed that he had been mistaken for a beggar and became blind with anger:
“The waiter offers me a more comfortable
place, and I leave the money lying. What a disgrace! He brings it after me, and
informs me politely that the young man had found it under my table, and thought
it was mine. I feel ashamed, and in order to calm my anger, order another
absinthe.”
Misunderstanding situations, jumping to wrong
conclusions and taking wrong and unnecessary actions are occupational hazards
for someone who is saturated with bad energy.
The universe had one more treat in store for
Strindberg on this occasion:
“The absinthe comes, and I feel quite
comfortable, when a pestilential smell of ammonia almost stifles me. Again a
miracle or some evil purpose! An escape-pipe flows out at the edge of the pavement,
exactly where my seat is.“
So his attempt to get away from the horrible noisy family
put him in an even worse position.
This series of annoying incidents is followed
by the previously mentioned arrival of a noisy family in the room next to his
in the monastic establishment, the letter from his older children to tell him
that they had been very ill and the encounters with the Danish artist.
Is it just a coincidence that soon after he
had caused damage to his own family, he had trouble with other families?
Strindberg and the restaurant incidents
Here is one more example of the bad treatment
and unpleasant experiences that Strindberg had to endure.
A month or so after the café incidents, he went
out for a meal in a restaurant with a companion. This was a complete nightmare:
“The customers in the restaurant persecute
me. We had our last meal in the courtyard on account of the heat. The table was
placed between the dustbin and the lavatory. Over the dustbin hung the picture
of the crucified woman by my former American friend. They had revenged
themselves so severely upon him that he had disappeared without paying his
debts ...
A
young fellow belonging to the house goes behind my back to the lavatory with
the thinly concealed purpose of annoying me. The court is as narrow as a
mineshaft, and admits no sunlight over the high walls. The women who live in
the different storeys make obscene remarks over our heads. Domestic servants
come with their baskets full of rubbish in order to empty them into the
dustbin. It is hell itself! Moreover, my two neighbours, notoriously immoral
characters, try, with their disgusting talk, to entangle me in a quarrel.”
So they gave him a table next to the dustbins
and the lavatory! Presumably the escape-pipe mentioned above came from a public
convenience too. Is there something symbolic here?
It is all very familiar
As has been said in many places, these are
exactly the sort of experiences that people have when they are surrounded by bad energy. The details may be different but the underlying scenarios are the
same.
They experience trouble. They make wrong decisions. They are drawn to the wrong places
and bad situations. They attract unpleasant people and bring out the worst in
them.
In connection with getting involved with the
wrong people, the above mentioned ‘former American friend’ will be the main
subject of the next article in this series.
August Strindberg’s sojourn in Paris is commemorated
by a plaque in a street named after him:
