292 
THE AMERICAN-SC AN DIN A VI AN REVIEW 
and callous, lovable and inconsiderate, naively credulous and full of 
suspicion, violent and passionate and at the same time cool and calcu¬ 
lating. He belongs to the group of emotional people, so numerous 
during the last two centuries, who break loose from tradition and de¬ 
pend solely upon their own experiences. It is among the great spirits 
beginning with Rousseau and ending with Tolstoy that he deserves to 
be^placed, and he is one of the most extreme in his unprecedented and 
ruthless individualism. The impression he produces with his untram¬ 
meled vigor is almost that of a natural force, brooking no restraint 
and viewing all culture with more or less suspicion. 
Many who judge Strindberg by his writings alone, or perhaps by 
criticisms of his writings, may easily come to the conclusion that he was 
harsh, coarse, and embittered. But this is a mistake. At bottom he 
was as gentle as a woman and almost abnormally sensitive. As a child 
he delighted in H. C. Andersen’s tales, which portray the refined hu¬ 
manism and idyllic conception of life so typical of the sixties. Noi did 
he ever forget them. A bit of the Danish skald s childlike and yet leal- 
istic point of view combined with the ability to cast a fantastic glamoui 
over it all crops up in Strindberg’s writings. It is strikingly apparent 
in Lucky Per, in his Stories, and in his later dramas, such as Ad¬ 
vent, Swanwhite and Easter. Even his realistic descriptions, other¬ 
wise so gloomy, have touches that suggest the simple childlike method 
of presentation found in the folk tales, thus proving his innate love of 
beauty and harmony. . 
Strindberg loved music, flowers, and children. In his chaiming 
little book, Flower Pieces and Animal Pictures we are given an op¬ 
portunity to observe his pleasures and tribulations as a gardener, how 
he prepares the soil and plants his cucumbers, or how he laises gifly 
flowers and pansies in the winter in little window-pots. He never tired 
of studying the “secrets of the flowers. This side of his natuie, the 
lovable and tender side which is so likely to be overlooked, has been 
charmingly and happily portrayed by Eru Helene Welindei in hei 
memoirs of Strindberg* from the time of his sojourn in Chexbres, 
Switzerland, in the summer of 1884. This was Strindberg before the 
publication of Married, while he was still a happy husband and father. 
Fru Welinder describes him as modest, reserved, somewhat melan¬ 
choly, but not morose, “genial and pleasant. And later she adds. I 
have never seen a more tender father than August Strindbeig. Mans 
of his writings reveal his love of children. He has voiced the feeling 
of tenderness aroused by the helplessness of a little child, and again 
the happiness he felt when a child trustingly slipped its little hand into 
his, or when he heard childish feet approaching, “the patter of little 
feet.” In The Highway and elsewhere he has frequently expressed his 
sorrow at being forced to live apart from his children. 
Life dealt harshly with Strindberg. Very few men of his genius 
