The Red Room, August Strindberg [the mitten read aloud txt] 📗

money subscribed by the public for the purpose of encouraging native artists. The excerpt from the minutes which found its way into the columns of the newspapers, was worded as follows:

“The Art Union yesterday bought the following pictures: (1) Water with Oxen, landscape by the wholesale merchant K. (2) Gustavus Adolphus at the Fire of Magdeburg, historical painting by the linen draper L. (3) A Child Blowing Its Nose, genre-picture by lieutenant M. (4) S.S. Bore in the Harbour, marine picture by the shipbroker N. (5) Sylvan Scene with Women, landscape by the royal secretary O. (6) Chicken with Mushrooms, still-life by the actor P.”

These works of art, which cost a thousand pounds each on an average, were afterwards praised in the Grey Bonnet in two three-quarter columns at fifteen crowns each; that was nothing extraordinary, but the critic, partly in order to fill up the space, and partly in order to seize the right moment for suppressing a growing evil, attacked a bad custom which was beginning to creep in. He referred to the fact that young, unknown adventurers, who had run away from the academy without study, were trying to pervert the sound judgment of the public by a mere running after effect. And then Sellén was taken by the ears and flogged, so that even his enemies found that his treatment was unfair⁠—and that means a great deal. Not only was he denied every trace of talent and his art called humbug; even his private circumstances were dragged before the public; the article hinted at cheap restaurants where he was obliged to dine; at the shabby clothes he was forced to wear; at his loose morals, his idleness; it concluded by prophesying in the name of religion and morality that he would end his days in a public institution unless he mended his ways while there was yet time.

It was a disgraceful act, committed in indifference and selfishness; and it was little less than a miracle that a soul was not lost on the night of the publication of that particular number of the Grey Bonnet.

Twenty-four hours later the Incorruptible appeared. It reflected on the way in which public moneys were administered by a certain clique, and mentioned the fact that at the last purchase of pictures, not a single one had been bought which had been painted by an artist, but that the perpetrators had been officials and tradesmen, impudent enough to compete with the artists, although the latter had no other market; it went on to say that these pirates lowered the standard and demoralized the artists, whose sole endeavour would have to be to paint as badly as they did if they did not want to starve. Then Sellén’s name was mentioned. His picture was the first soulfully conceived work within the last ten years. For ten years art had been a mere affair of colours and brushes; Sellén’s picture was an honest piece of work, full of inspiration and devotion, and entirely original; a picture which could only have been produced by an artist who had met the spirit of nature face to face. The critic enjoined the young artist to fight against the ancients, whom he had already left a long way behind, and exhorted him to have faith and hope, because he had a mission to fulfil, etc.

The Grey Bonnet foamed with rage.

“You’ll see that that fellow will have success!” exclaimed the chief editor. “Why the devil did we slate him quite so much! Supposing he became a success now! We should cover ourselves with ridicule.”

The academician vowed that he should not have any success, went home with a troubled heart, referred to his books and wrote an essay in which he proved that Sellén’s art was humbug, and that the Incorruptible had been corrupted.

The Grey Bonnet drew a breath of relief, but immediately afterwards it received a fresh blow.

On the following day the morning papers announced the fact that his Majesty had bought Sellén’s “masterly landscape which, for days, had drawn a large public to the Exhibition.”

The Grey Bonnet received the full fury of the gale; it was tossed hither and thither, and fluttered like a rag on a pole. Should they veer round or steer ahead? Both paper and critic were involved. The chief editor decided, by order of the managing director, to sacrifice the critic and save the paper. But how was it to be done? In their extremity they remembered Struve. He was a man completely at home in the maze of publicity. He was sent for. The situation was clear to him in a moment, and he promised that in a very few days the barge should be able to tack.

To understand Struve’s scheme, it is necessary to know the most important data of his biography. He was a “born student,” driven to journalism by sheer poverty. He started his career as editor of the Socialist People’s Flag. Next he belonged to the Conservative Peasants’ Scourge, but when the latter removed to the provinces with inventory, printing plant and editor, the name was changed into Peasants’ Friend, and its politics changed accordingly. Struve was sold to the Red Cap, where his knowledge of all the Conservative tricks stood him in good stead; in the same way his greatest merit in the eyes of the Grey Bonnet was his knowledge of all the secrets of their deadly foe, the Red Cap, and his readiness to abuse his knowledge of them.

Struve began the work of whitewashing by starting a correspondence in the People’s Flag; a few lines of this, mentioning the rush of visitors to the Exhibition, were reprinted in the Grey Bonnet. Next there appeared in the Grey Bonnet an attack on the academician; this attack was followed by a few reassuring words signed “The Ed.”