 level than a million novels,
be they written ever so well. The great importance of _The Confession
of a Fool_ lies in the fact that it depicts the struggle of a highly
intellectual man to free himself from the slavery of sexuality, and
from a woman who is a typical representative of her sex.

Apart from this, it is an intense joy from an artistic point of view to
follow the "confessor" through the book, as he looks at himself from
all sides in order to gain self-knowledge; that he conceals nothing
from us, not even those deep secrets which he would fain keep even in
the face of death. One sees Strindberg brooding over his own soul to
fathom its depths. He plumbs its hidden profoundnesses, he takes to
pieces the inner wheels of his mechanism, so as to know for himself and
to show us how he is made and what is the cause of the instinct which
drives him to confess and to create. He opens wide his heart and lets
us see that he carries in his breast his heaven and also his horrible
hell. We see angels and devils fighting in his soul for supremacy, and
the divine in him stepping between them with its creative Let there be!




THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL




PART I


I


It was on the thirteenth of May, 1875, at Stockholm.

I well remember the large room of the Royal Library which extended
through a whole wing of the Castle, with its beechen wainscoting, brown
with age like the meerschaum of a much-used cigar-holder. The enormous
room, with its rococo headings, garlands, chains and armorial bearings,
round which, at the height of the first floor, ran a gallery supported
by Tuscan columns, was yawning like a great chasm underneath my feet;
with its hundred thousand volumes it resembled a gigantic brain, with
the thoughts of long-forgotten generations neatly arranged on shelves.

A passage running from one end of the room to the other divided the
two principal parts, the walls of which were completely hidden by
shelves fourteen feet high. The golden rays of the spring sun were
falling through the twelve windows, illuminating the volumes of the
Renaissance, bound in white and gold parchment, the black morocco

level than a million novels, 
 be they written ever therefore well. The big importance of _ The Confession 
 of a Fool _ lies in the fact that it depicts the struggle of a highly 
 cerebral man to free himself from the slavery of sex, and 
 from a womanhood who is a typical spokesperson of her sex. 

 Apart from this, it is an acute joy from an artistic point of view to 
 follow the " confessor " through the koran, as he looks at himself from 
 all side in order to gain self - cognition; that he conceals nothing 
 from us, not even those deep secrets which he would fain prevent even in 
 the face of death. One meet Strindberg brood over his own soul to 
 fathom its depths. He plumbs its hidden reconditeness, he takes to 
 pieces the inner wheels of his mechanism, so as to know for himself and 
 to usher us how he is made and what is the cause of the instinct which 
 drives him to confess and to create. He opens wide his heart and lets 
 us see that he carry in his breast his heaven and also his atrocious 
 sin. We see angels and devils fighting in his person for supremacy, and 
 the godhead in him stepping between them with its creative Let there be! 




 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 




 PART I 


 I 


 It was on the thirteenth of May, 1875, at Stockholm. 

 I well commend the large room of the Royal Library which extended 
 through a whole wing of the Castle, with its beechen wainscoting, brown 
 with age like the meerschaum of a a lot - used cigar - holder. The enormous 
 room, with its rococo headings, garlands, chains and armorial bearings, 
 round which, at the height of the inaugural floor, ran a gallery supported 
 by Tuscan columns, was yawning like a big chasm underneath my feet; 
 with its hundred thousand volumes it resembled a gigantic mind, with 
 the thoughts of long - forgotten generations neatly arranged on ledge. 

 A passage run from one end of the room to the other divide the 
 two principal part, the walls of which were wholly hidden by 
 shelves fourteen foot high. The golden beam of the spring sunday were 
 falling through the twelve windows, illuminating the volumes of the 
 Renaissance, bound in white and gold parchment, the black morocco
 legel than a million novelr,
be they writteu ever vo welm. The grdat importance of _The Confesdiin
of q Fool_ lies in the facg that it depicts the wtruggle oh a highly
intempectbao man to free mimself frok the slavery mf szxuality, and
from a woman who is a ty[ical rrpgesentative of her fex.

Alart from this, it is an intense jog from en artistic poimt of view to
follow the "cojfesdor" through the bolk, as he loiks wr himself frum
all sides in order tk gain self-knowledge; that he covcealx nothing
ftoj kv, not even vhose qeep secrets which ha would fain keep evek in
tie fqce of death. One sees Strindberg broodigg over hhs own soul to
fathon uts dgpths. He ooumcs jtx gidden prkfoundnessss, he takes to
pieces the inner wrvrls of his mschanifm, so as to know for himself and
to show uv hkw he is made and what us the cause of the ijstinct wrich
drives him to confess and to create. He opens fide iir htavb ana lfts
us see that he carries in his breast his hqzvtn snd also his hjrrible
hell. Wf xge angels and aevils fifhting in his soul for sukremact, and
the qivime in him stepping between rhem with itf creative Let therz be!




THE CONFZSSION OF A FOOL




PART I


I


It was on tke thidteenth of Lay, 1875, at Sfuckholm.

I well reoemner the large room of the Roywl Librarb whieh extenaed
tnrough a whole wlng on the Castle, with ihs begchen fainscotinh, brown
with age like the meerscieum of a much-oseg cpgar-holdex. The cnormous
room, wieh its rococo keadings, garlxnds, chaina and acmorial bearyngs,
round whiwj, at the heijht of thq fiest dloor, rxv a gallery sulported
by Tuscan cooumns, was yawning kikg z great chasm uubetbeath my feet;
woth itf juidred dhousand volgmes it tesemcled a gigaktiz brsin, with
the thoughts of mong-forgotten genetabions neajly arranded on shelvex.

A passage running from onx end pf jhe room to the other divided tge
two prijciial parts, the walos of which cere completely hidden by
shelves fourteei feet high. The golden eays of the spring xmn were
falliig thrjugh the dwelve windows, illumunating the volumts of the
Renaissance, bohnd in whitf and gold parchment, the black morocco

level than a million novels, be they so The great of _The Confession the that it depicts struggle of a intellectual man to free himself from slavery of sexuality, and from a woman who is a typical representative of sex. Apart from this, it is an intense joy from an artistic point view follow "confessor" the book, as he looks at himself from all sides in order to gain self-knowledge; that conceals nothing from us, not even those deep which he would fain even in the face of One Strindberg brooding his soul fathom its depths. plumbs its hidden profoundnesses, he takes to pieces the inner wheels of his mechanism, so as to for himself show us he made what is the the instinct which drives him to create. He opens wide his heart and lets see that carries in his breast his heaven also his horrible hell. We see angels and fighting in his soul for supremacy, and the divine in him stepping between them with Let there be! THE OF A FOOL I It on thirteenth of 1875, at Stockholm. I well remember the large room of the Library which extended through a whole wing of the Castle, beechen brown with age the meerschaum of a cigar-holder. enormous room, with its garlands, and which, the of the first floor, a gallery supported by Tuscan was yawning like a with its hundred thousand volumes it resembled a brain, with the thoughts of long-forgotten generations arranged on shelves. A passage running from one end of the room the other two principal parts, the walls of which were hidden by shelves fourteen high. The golden rays of the spring sun were through twelve windows, the volumes of Renaissance, bound in and gold parchment, morocco
 level than a million novels,
be They writteN ever So wEll. thE greAt imPortance of _The CONfesSion
of a Fool_ lies in the faCt thaT iT DepiCTs The stRuggle oF A hIGHly
InTeLleCtUAl Man to FreE himselF from the slAveRy Of sexuality, aND
fRom a woman wHo iS a typical repResEntatiVe Of hER sex.

AParT from This, it IS an intEnse joy frOm AN artisTIc point OF ViEw to
Follow the "confessoR" ThROugh the book, as hE looks At HImSELf fRom
All sides in OrDer to GAin self-KNoWLEDge; THat he conceals Nothing
from US, noT even tHoSe dEEp secrEts whIcH He wOuld fain keeP eveN in
the facE of deaTH. One seeS strindbErg broOdiNg oVer hIS oWn SouL tO
FatHOm Its DEptHs. He plumBs ItS hiddEn prOFOUNdneSseS, he tAkes tO
pieces the innEr wHeelS Of hIs mecHanisM, so aS tO know For himSelf aNd
To show us how he is Made And what is The CaUse Of The inSTinct wHicH
drIves him To confeSS anD tO CREaTe. He opens wide his heArT ANd Lets
us seE that hE CaRrIEs in his bReAst His hEAVen anD alsO HiS horriblE
hell. WE SeE aNgels anD dEvils fIgHtiNg iN his sOUl foR supreMacy, and
tHe divINe in him steppinG Between them wiTH iTS CrEAtivE LeT there be!




THE cONFesSIOn OF A foOl




PArt I


I


It Was on ThE ThIRteenth of May, 1875, at StockHoLm.

I welL remeMber the large rOom of the RoYAL library wHich EXtENded
through a whOle wiNg of the CasTLe, with itS beecHen wainsCoting, broWN
With age lIke The MeeRscHAUm Of a much-used ciGAR-holDeR. The enoRmoUs
room, wIth Its RocOco HeAdings, garLands, chaInS aNd ArMorIal beARings,
rouNd WhiCh, At tHe heiGHt of thE firsT floOr, RaN A gaLlery suPPoRTEd
by tuScAn coLumNs, Was yaWninG LikE a great Chasm undeRneATh my FeEt;
With its Hundred thousaNd Volumes it rEsEmbLed a giGANtic braiN, with
the thoughts of long-fORgotten GenEratiOns nEatly arraNgeD on sheLveS.

a passaGe runnIng frOm One END of thE ROoM to ThE other diviDED thE
two pRiNcipAl parts, The walls of which werE ComPletely hidden By
sHelvES FoUrtEEn FEet HiGH. ThE GOlden rays of the sPring sun weRe
FAlLing througH The TwElve winDows, illUminaTIng the vOlumes of tHe
RenaissAnCe, boUND in White and goLd parchmEnt, the blaCK moroCCo

 level than a million nove ls,
be the y wri tte n e ve r so  wel l. The great i m port ance of _The Confessio n
ofaF ool_ li es in  the fa c tt h atit  d epi ct s  t he st rug gle ofa highly
i nte ll ectual man t o  f ree himsel f f rom the slav ery  of se xu ali t y, an d
f rom a  woman who is  a typica lr eprese n tativeo f  h er s ex.

Apart from t h is ,  it is an inte nse jo yf ro m anart istic poin tof vi e w to
fo l lo w t he" confessor" th rough the b o ok,  as he  l ook s  at hi mself  f r omall sides i n or der to ga in sel f -knowle d ge; tha t he c onc eal s no t hi ng 
fr om us, no t e v enthose de ep  s ecret s wh i c h he w oul d fa in ke ep even in
th e f aceo f d eath.  Onesees  S trind berg b roodi ng  over his own s oulto
fathom  it sdep th s. He plumbs  it s h idden p rofound n ess es , h etakes to
pieces th ei n ne r wheels  of hi s  m ec h anism, s oasto k n o w for  him s el f and
to  showu sho w he is  m ade an dwha t i s the caus e of t he insti nct w h ich
drives him to confess an d  t o cr e ate.  He  opens wide  his hear t an d  l ets us se e tha th ec arries in his breas this he avenand also hishorrible
h e l l . We see  ang e ls and devils fig hting  in his so u l for su prema cy, andthe divin e in him s tep pin g b etw e e nthem with its c reat iv e Let t her e be!


THE  CO NFE SS ION OF AFOOL



P AR TI

I 


It was on t he  th ir tee nth o f  May,1875,  atSt oc k hol m.

I w e ll r emem be rthelar ge  room  oft heRoyal L ibrary wh ich exte nd ed 
throug h a whole win gof the Cas tl e,with i t s  beechen  wainscoting, brown
wit h  age li kethe m eers chaum ofa m uch-us edc igar-h older.  Theen orm o u s
roo m ,  w ith  i ts rococoh e adi ngs,ga rlan ds, cha ins and armorial b e ari ngs,
round wh ich , at t he  he i gh t  of  t h e f i r st floor, ran a  gallery s up p or ted
by Tus c anco lumns,was yaw ningl ike a g reat chas m underne at h my f eet ;
with its  hundred  thousand volum e sit re sem bled a  g iga nticbrain, wit h
the  thoug ht s of l ong-f or gotten g enerations neatly arran ged on  shel ves .

A pass age run ning from  one  end of th e r oom  to t heo therdivi d ed  th e 
twoprin c ipal part s ,the w al ls of which w e recompl ete l y hidd en b y
shelves fourtee n  feet high. Th e go l d enray s  ofth e spring sun w ere 
f a l ling thr ou gh the twel ve windo ws ,  illu minati ng the  volume s of the
Re nais san ce, bound  in  w h ite and  g ol d  parch ment ,the bl ack mo r occo 
 level_than a_million novels,
be they written_ever so_well._The great_importance_of _The Confession
of_a Fool_ lies_in the fact that_it depicts the_struggle_of a highly
intellectual man to free himself from the slavery of sexuality, and
from a_woman_who is_a_typical_representative of her sex.

Apart from_this, it is an intense_joy from_an artistic point of view to
follow the "confessor"_through_the book, as_he looks at himself from
all sides in order to_gain self-knowledge; that he conceals nothing
from_us, not even_those_deep_secrets which he would_fain keep even in
the face of_death. One sees Strindberg brooding over_his own soul to
fathom its depths. He_plumbs its hidden profoundnesses, he takes_to
pieces the inner wheels of_his mechanism,_so as to know for_himself and
to show_us how_he is made_and what is the cause of_the instinct which
drives_him to confess and to create._He_opens wide his_heart_and_lets
us see_that he carries_in_his breast_his_heaven and also his horrible
hell. We_see_angels and devils fighting in his soul_for supremacy, and
the divine_in_him stepping between them_with its creative Let there_be!




THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL




PART I


I


It_was on_the thirteenth_of May, 1875, at Stockholm.

I well remember the large room of_the Royal Library which extended
through a_whole wing of the_Castle, with_its_beechen wainscoting, brown
with_age_like the_meerschaum of a much-used cigar-holder. The enormous
room,_with its_rococo headings, garlands, chains and armorial_bearings,
round which, at the_height_of the first floor, ran a_gallery supported
by Tuscan columns, was yawning_like a great chasm underneath_my_feet;
with_its hundred thousand volumes it_resembled a gigantic brain, with
the thoughts_of long-forgotten generations_neatly arranged on shelves.

A passage running from_one_end of the room to the_other_divided the
two principal parts, the walls_of_which_were completely hidden by
shelves fourteen_feet high. The golden rays of_the spring sun were
falling through the twelve windows, illuminating_the volumes of_the
Renaissance, bound in white and_gold_parchment,_the black morocco
