Strindberg had a history of falling out with
people and breaking off relationships. He tells us in Inferno that the Danish painter
became his enemy and that he and the down-and-out mystery man cooled off and
never saw or heard from each other again. Then there was the correspondence
with Nietzsche that lasted for only a short time.
It is easy to deduce from this what would
eventually happen in the case of the secret friend! According to Strindberg,
this man turned not just from a friend into an enemy but from an angel into a
demon!
My guess is that the secret friend was a demon all along but for a while concealed his real nature behind a mask of benevolence.
This case is of interest not only because of
what it says about Strindberg’s pattern of relationships and the sort of people
he became involved with, but also because this secret friend behaved like a
cult member. I was surprised to recognise in this story some elements previously featured in articles about cults. I detected the Sole Supplier Syndrome for example; the infuriating Superiority Syndrome is much in evidence and so is the dreaded Attack-dog Syndrome!
Strindberg’s ‘secret friend’
Stella Benson had her imaginary Secret Friends; Strindberg had someone he called his ‘secret friend’ who offered
financial and other support, playing, as he said, “... a decisive rôle in my
life as mentor, counsellor, comforter, judge, and, not least, as a reliable
helper in various times of need.”
So why would this man do all that for someone
he had never met? Did he have ulterior motives and a hidden agenda, or was he
just a benefactor, a patron who recognised Strindberg’s talents and wanted to encourage
and assist him?
The answer seems obvious to me: the secret friend cultivated the relationship with Strindberg because he was after something. I have highlighted some key statements that give the game away.
It all began in 1890. Just as Nietzsche did,
this man made the first approach, reaching out to Strindberg by writing to him.
The reason, or pretext, was to ask for Strindberg’s opinion of the occultist and
theosophist Madame Blavatsky.
Strindberg took offence at what he saw as an aggressive tone in the letter. He let his annoyance show in his reply.
Nothing more happened for several years.
How it continued
As Strindberg tells it:
“Four years later I ... received at the most critical juncture of my life a second letter from this unknown friend, in which, in an elevated and almost prophetic style, he foretold for me a future fraught with suffering and glory. At the same time he explained to me that he had resumed this correspondence, because he guessed that I was just now in the throes of a spiritual crisis in which a word of comfort might be opportune. Finally, he offered me material aid, which I, jealous of my miserable independence, declined.”
The timing is interesting. Distress signals attract predators. An apparent saviour may appear, but they may be a destroyer in disguise.
The two men corresponded for over two years, mainly on philosophical and religious matters, with a few differences of opinion from time to time:
“From that time we kept up the most intimate and friendly correspondence, with the exception of a small disagreement which occurred, when he once took upon himself to instruct me in an insulting way about matters which I knew very well, and preached to me proudly about my want of modesty.
After we had made it up again, I imparted to him all my observations, and gave him more of my confidence than was perhaps wise. I confessed to this man, whom I had never seen, everything, and let him admonish me seriously, for I regarded him more as an idea than a person; he was for me a messenger of Providence, my good angel.”
Strindberg certainly was unwise to fully confide in a man he had never met. Corresponding about metaphysical matters is one thing, but personal revelation is something else. The ‘confession’ makes me think of cults that demand to be told all the secrets of their members. They may use the supplied information to blackmail anyone who wants to leave or who won’t obey orders.
The secret friend shows his true colours
Here we see the Superiority Syndrome in the
secret friend:
“..because of the qualities of this unseen friend, whom I felt drawn to love and admire, I put up with his admonitions when he often addressed me in a presumptuous way as his inferior. I always answered him, but did not conceal from him my dislike for theosophy.”
Strindberg obviously let this secret friend
get away with a lot, perhaps because he idealised him and perhaps because of
all the help and attention he was getting from him. He did not always refuse to
accept money!
The ‘good angel’ started to behave as if
Strindberg were his to command; he threatened him with reprisals if he didn’t
obey orders:
“Finally, however...he assumed such a
domineering tone, and became so intolerable in his tyranny, that I feared he
took me for a fool. He called me "Simon Magus, the necromancer," and
recommended me to take Madame Blavatsky as my teacher. I wrote back to him that
I had no need of the lady, and that no one had anything to teach me. Thereupon
what did he threaten me with? That he would bring me back to the right path
with the aid of stronger powers than mine.“
As mentioned in one of the cult articles, it
is dangerous to get too close to people in a cult: they may sooner or later behave
as if you were one of them. They come to feel entitled to your obedience; they
feel entitled to threaten and punish you for disobeying orders or breaking
their rules.
The reference to 'the right path’ reminds me of the Sole Supplier Syndrome. The cult is the only way to salvation. The teacher, or leader, is the
only person to have all the answers.
Still to come
Part II will describe how
