MUNICH, January 27th, 1887
Dear Jonas Lie:
DAY after day I have intended to write to you. But, as usual with me, something else has always come between. Now, however, I will put everything else aside and send you a few lines.
First and foremost, then, I will ask you, on behalf of both my wife and myself, to accept our cordial congratulations on the occasion of “The Commodore’s Daughters.” I suppose you can yourself imagine what a joy it was to us two lonely people out here to receive this living message from home. Neither of us has ever been in those regions where most of the events take place, but from the very beginning of the book it seemed to us that we were, so to speak, quite at home there. And, above all, the people! We see them and we know them. We feel now as if we had known them a long, long time beforehand. Jan and Marte have our deepest sympathy. And what has happened to us in reading this work it seems to me must happen to every reader who possesses even but a trace of imagination and vision.
And next I will thank you for the kind letter with which you delighted me a couple of months ago. Since then I have been in a great bustle, and a part of the time absent travelling. The after-effect of this still makes itself felt in the shape of a great quantity of letter-writing, which, moreover, has to be carried on almost exclusively in German, which condition naturally increases the work considerably. That under these circumstances I should secure sufficient time and peace to grapple seriously with any new dramatic whimsies is out of the question. But I feel a number of such buzzing inside my head, and in the spring I hope to get some method into them. (“The Lady from the Sea.”)
We are seriously considering the possibility of spending the coming summer up at the Skaw if everything goes according to our wishes. The place has for a long time been a haunt of painters, and the great wide sea powerfully attracts us. At any rate we shall not go clear up to Norway. The conditions, the spirit, and the tone up there are to me quite unattractive. It is extremely distressing to see with what voracious eagerness they throw themselves into all kinds of bagatelles, just as if they were all-important affairs.
We have had a rather mild winter here with clear weather, and feel well in every respect. I hope the same is the case with you. When you have an opportunity to see Bjornson remember me to him and give him my thanks for the letter which he recently wrote me, and which I shall soon try to answer. But above all, give your wife and the children most cordial regards from both of us. Farewell all of you!
Yours most sincerely,
HENRIK IBSEN